Read Online Being Audrey Hepburn by Mitchell Kriegman - Free Book Online
Authors: Mitchell Kriegman
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Love & Romance
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his tray and grabbed another.
Thankfully, they weren’t checking IDs that night.
10
“Holy craps that’s really, good!” I said to the waiter. He looked at me funny, and I realized that I had dropped my Audrey accent. I avoided making eye contact. Okay, it was time to blow this Popsicle stand, as Grandpa used to say. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up.
“Nice dress,” said a smooth, deep voice from behind me. Was I busted? I spun around, unsure.
Smiling at me, with dimples so sexy they were wicked, was none other than ZK Northcott. How was it that a couple of cute little dents in a guy’s face, even a face as nice as his, could make him even more appealing? My heart stopped pumping, I swear. His dark, wavy hair was slicked back. I’d bet he just rolled out of bed looking gorgeous. Not like the gorillas I knew who spent as much time (and product) on their hair as the girls. Up close, I could see that his eyes were even more enticing: hazel, caramel-colored with flecks of green and gold. Jeez, talk about genes. He grabbed a bottle of champagne from one of the passing waiters and refilled my glass a third time.
I eyed the line of his jacket against his shoulder and almost swooned. Some guys were just born to wear two-thousand-dollar formal wear. Giorgio Armani would be pleased. I wondered where his date was. Lost, I hoped.
“Everyone wants to know how Tabitha is,” he said. What did he say? Who was Tabitha? I couldn’t believe he was talking to me. My mind went totally blank. He was gorgeous. For a second I flashed on the fear that he would recognize me from outside on the street when our eyes locked. But of course not. When I went gaga, gazing into his eyes, he didn’t even notice me. We settled into an uncomfortable silence because I had no idea how to respond.
I took another sip of champagne, buying time to think, but the bubbles made it harder. Finally I began to sputter, “Well, Tabitha was, well…”
“There you are!” ZK turned, and Dahlia Rothenberg inserted herself between us before I could utter another word. Dahlia Rothenberg. Holy shit. She was even more perfect up close than she was in the magazines.
“Yes, how is our dear Tabby?” she asked. “We’re all dying to know.” She stared right through me as though I were made of tissue paper. I was so over my head, I felt like I’d plunged into the deep end with piranhas and had forgotten how to swim. Time stopped. How long had I been standing there absolutely tongue-tied? No line lifted from Sabrina or Tiffany’s or Roman Holiday . No witty retort. A total blank. All I could think of was that ZK was starting to look bored, which seemed the worst possible thing in the world. Each second ticked by excruciatingly.
“Well, I guess dear Tabitha’s the center of attention as usual,” I finally offered, smiling, hoping this would pass for conversation. It was only the most obvious thing I could think of, but Dahlia and ZK laughed as though I was brilliant. Good grief.
“You know her too well!” ZK said and gave me an amused look. I felt as though he knew I was faking and was congratulating me on my recovery, but it didn’t really matter what he was thinking. I was gobsmacked by his gold-flecked eyes.
“Well, you haven’t done poorly yourself,” Dahlia added, watching ZK watching me, but he barely seemed to notice. As I searched for a witty reply, I saw Joe the security guy leaning over the upper gallery stairs. He was pointing right at me and looking down at—Jess! She’d just reached the bottom stairs of the main gallery.
I was in so much trouble. Jess motioned me to come right away. I shrugged helplessly, unsure how to extricate myself.
“Is there something going on over there?” Dahlia asked. She couldn’t quite see Jess, and even if she had, a mere museum employee wouldn’t register for her.
“Not at all, it just seems as though someone has had too much fun and it’s time for them to go home,” I said sadly. Jess
Thankfully, they weren’t checking IDs that night.
10
“Holy craps that’s really, good!” I said to the waiter. He looked at me funny, and I realized that I had dropped my Audrey accent. I avoided making eye contact. Okay, it was time to blow this Popsicle stand, as Grandpa used to say. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up.
“Nice dress,” said a smooth, deep voice from behind me. Was I busted? I spun around, unsure.
Smiling at me, with dimples so sexy they were wicked, was none other than ZK Northcott. How was it that a couple of cute little dents in a guy’s face, even a face as nice as his, could make him even more appealing? My heart stopped pumping, I swear. His dark, wavy hair was slicked back. I’d bet he just rolled out of bed looking gorgeous. Not like the gorillas I knew who spent as much time (and product) on their hair as the girls. Up close, I could see that his eyes were even more enticing: hazel, caramel-colored with flecks of green and gold. Jeez, talk about genes. He grabbed a bottle of champagne from one of the passing waiters and refilled my glass a third time.
I eyed the line of his jacket against his shoulder and almost swooned. Some guys were just born to wear two-thousand-dollar formal wear. Giorgio Armani would be pleased. I wondered where his date was. Lost, I hoped.
“Everyone wants to know how Tabitha is,” he said. What did he say? Who was Tabitha? I couldn’t believe he was talking to me. My mind went totally blank. He was gorgeous. For a second I flashed on the fear that he would recognize me from outside on the street when our eyes locked. But of course not. When I went gaga, gazing into his eyes, he didn’t even notice me. We settled into an uncomfortable silence because I had no idea how to respond.
I took another sip of champagne, buying time to think, but the bubbles made it harder. Finally I began to sputter, “Well, Tabitha was, well…”
“There you are!” ZK turned, and Dahlia Rothenberg inserted herself between us before I could utter another word. Dahlia Rothenberg. Holy shit. She was even more perfect up close than she was in the magazines.
“Yes, how is our dear Tabby?” she asked. “We’re all dying to know.” She stared right through me as though I were made of tissue paper. I was so over my head, I felt like I’d plunged into the deep end with piranhas and had forgotten how to swim. Time stopped. How long had I been standing there absolutely tongue-tied? No line lifted from Sabrina or Tiffany’s or Roman Holiday . No witty retort. A total blank. All I could think of was that ZK was starting to look bored, which seemed the worst possible thing in the world. Each second ticked by excruciatingly.
“Well, I guess dear Tabitha’s the center of attention as usual,” I finally offered, smiling, hoping this would pass for conversation. It was only the most obvious thing I could think of, but Dahlia and ZK laughed as though I was brilliant. Good grief.
“You know her too well!” ZK said and gave me an amused look. I felt as though he knew I was faking and was congratulating me on my recovery, but it didn’t really matter what he was thinking. I was gobsmacked by his gold-flecked eyes.
“Well, you haven’t done poorly yourself,” Dahlia added, watching ZK watching me, but he barely seemed to notice. As I searched for a witty reply, I saw Joe the security guy leaning over the upper gallery stairs. He was pointing right at me and looking down at—Jess! She’d just reached the bottom stairs of the main gallery.
I was in so much trouble. Jess motioned me to come right away. I shrugged helplessly, unsure how to extricate myself.
“Is there something going on over there?” Dahlia asked. She couldn’t quite see Jess, and even if she had, a mere museum employee wouldn’t register for her.
“Not at all, it just seems as though someone has had too much fun and it’s time for them to go home,” I said sadly. Jess
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