CHAPTER 10

                                    

                                          
An hour later, I finally stop smiling. Carson introduced me to so many people my face felt like it was going to fall off if I smile at anyone else. I walk around, looking for something to eat and drink. I haven't had anything in my stomach since I arrived. While I'm sipping my wine, someone startles me and I almost pour my drink on myself.
"Do you have a death wish?" Mr. Crawford asks. 
We're away from the party, so no one can see or hear us. I left the crowd to enjoy some time alone, but I think I made a mistake. Mr. Crawford looks like he wants to kill me, and there's no one here to save me. 
"What do you mean?" I ask, taking a step away from him. His close proximity scares me right now.
"You think I didn't see you out there, getting to know all the board of directors? And to make it worse, you made sure to introduce yourself as my grandfather's goddaughter."
"Mr. Crawford, I didn't know the people your grandfather introduced me to were members of the board. He only introduced me as his goddaughter because people might get the wrong idea if he said I'm his friend."
Before Carson introduced me around, he told me he was going to say I'm his goddaughter to prevent people from thinking I'm his younger lover. If only he knew it'd make his grandson irate.
"Wow. You're blaming my grandfather now. Would you stop lying?" he demands, stepping closer to me. Why does he step up into my space when he's angry with me? It's like he knows being close to him scares me. He towers over me, his height making me more afraid of him when he's close.
"Mr. Crawford, I'm not lying. You can ask your grandfather," I say, avoiding eye contact with him. He's scaring the shit out of me. He looks like he wants to rip my head off right now.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he says, grabbing my arms to get my attention. I accidentally spill my wine on his shirt. 
I wonder if God hates me because if Mr. Crawford's anger could be described on a scale of 1-10 from when he first started speaking to now, I'd put him at 100 because of what happens next.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Crawford," I say, trying to clean the wine stain off his shirt. 
To make matters worse, I was drinking red wine, at an all-white party. They didn't serve red wine, but I felt like drinking a glass, so I asked Kassie to pour me one of Mr. Crawford's special wines. It was one of the reasons I was away from the crowd. 
While I'm unsuccessfully attempting to clean the wine stain from Mr. Crawford's white shirt, which might cost more than my life right now, I feel something amazing on the tips of my fingers. Mr. Crawford's abs. Unconsciously, I start tracing his abs one at a time with the tip of my finger. He has eight abs, and they're as hard as a rock. I can feel myself getting hot the more I touch them. How can someone be so sexy?
"What the hell are you doing?" Mr. Crawford's voice booms loud in my ears, and my hand freezes. I quickly move back and try to use my hair to hide my cheeks. They must be beet red with my embarrassment right now.
"I'm sorry." 
"Say that one more time, and so help me, God, I'll do something that'll make you regret ever meeting me," Mr. Crawford says, sending a cold shiver down my spine.
What would he do to me? Is he going to kill me? Mr. Crawford doesn't seem the type of man who could take a life. So what could he do that'd make me regret meeting him? I don't say a word so as not to make him angrier than he already is.
"I'll deal with you on Monday. I need to go change my shirt," he says and walks away from me.
Thank God! I couldn't bear to be in his presence any longer. It was so hard not to look at the abs visible through his shirt because of the wine stain. Mr. Crawford is an angry man, and has severe reservations toward me, but he is one sexy man.