Find Me Alastar(34)

“Sorry it took me so long. Where were we?” He reaches over and pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Ahh.” Holy shit. “I’m going home. I’m not really feeling that well.”

He picks up my hand in his. “Are you okay? You seem to have distanced yourself from me since your arrival.” His eyes search mine. “Is everything good between us?”

The door opens and we both turn. To my horror, it’s the damn nosy receptionist again. My face falls and her mouth actually drops open. She thinks I’m here with Mark as he is holding my hand and I just had sex with Alastar. Great. I will never live this down. She narrows her eyes and her animosity bounces through the courtyard.

Oh no.

“Mark, can I see you for a moment, please?” she sneers.

I swallow the golf ball in my throat as my eyes flutter between the two of them.

Mark doesn’t seem to like her tone. “Just a second. I am just going to walk Emerson out to a cab,” he replies curtly.

Huh? I don’t want you to walk me outside. Oh, this night is out of f*cking control.

“She’s not feeling well,” he replies.

She smirks and raises a brow at me. “Poor, poor Emerson. Rough night, hey, sweetie?” She smiles sarcastically.

I feel faint as the blood drains from my face. Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

Mark glares at blondie as he leads me out of the courtyard and toward the auction room. If I walk out into the parking lot with Mark, Alastar will see and will probably lose his shit and then I will lose my job.

This night is going in the Guinness Book of Records as the world’s biggest disaster.

“Can I call round and see you tonight?” Mark asks.

Huh? The auction starts again and the auctioneers voice calls out. “An early piece from the talented photographer, Star.” He holds up an abstract painting of greens and gold and I turn around for the perfect artist. This is his painting. “Can I start the bidding at one hundred thousand?” he calls in an assertive voice.

Four little tickets on sticks get held up and I frown. What?

The battle begins and I stand dumbfounded as four different parties all go to war for the gorgeous green painting. The tickets are getting held up left right and centre. Where is he? He should be here to witness this and my eyes scan around in search of him again.

“Two hundred thousand.”

Mark gestures to the door and I shake my head subtly. I want to see who gets the painting.

“Sold. Two hundred and Sixty Thousand, to the lady in purple.” The crowd clap.

I turn and see a sophisticated lady standing at the back in a purple pants suit. What must it be like to have that kind of money? She smiles proudly as the auctioneer’s secretary approaches her and takes her details.

Wow. One of the big bosses’ approaches Mark. “Mark, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Marks looks to me for a response. Here’s my chance to escape.

“I will just go to the bathroom and meet you back here?” I smile.

He nods and takes off to the other side of the room.

My eyes flick nervously around and as soon as Mark is out of sight I hot foot it to the front door and run down the grand steps. I feel like a naughty child running away from her strict parents. My eyes search the parking lot in the dark and I look around in a panic. Shit, where is he?

My phone beeps a text.

I’m around the side of the building.



I immediately text back:

Coming now.



I walk around to the staff parking area and stop dead in my tracks when I see it. Lit only by the lamppost, Alastar is leaning up against an expensive black car, wearing his navy suit and white shirt. His feet are crossed and his behind rests on the car door, his hands tucked deep into his expensive suit pockets. His dark eyes hold mine as I walk toward him and his jaw ticks in anticipation.

My mouth goes dry just looking at him. He has dark hair that falls over his forehead and his large lips only accentuate his strong jaw line. How in the hell is this guy waiting here for me?

“Took your time.” He smiles as he opens the car door for me.

I smile and fall into the expensive leather seat. “I was watching one of your paintings auction.”

He raises a brow as if to ask me how it went.

“Two hundred and sixty thousand,” I murmur in disbelief.

He smirks and closes the door. I wait for him to get in the driver side with my heart in my throat. Is that normal, every day money for him? Is that all in a day’s work? He doesn’t seem overly excited.

He gets into the car and starts the engine, it purrs like a baby and he turns to me in the dark.

“Where do you want to go?” his deep voice purrs.

I stare at him as the thought anywhere with you runs through my pathetic mind. I shrug.

“Dinner? Have you eaten?”

“I don’t want to go out. I just told work I was sick, so I really don’t want to be seen.”

He frowns as he reverses the car at speed and I hang onto my seat belt. “You mean you just told White you were sick?” He snaps.

I nod. “Yes.”

He swings out of the parking lot violently and I hold on. Shit.

He speeds up the road and hits around eighty km in first gear.

Don’t tell me he’s a streetcar racer. I start to panic.