[EVE]
Inside the bathroom, the scene was sothing out of a makeup comrcial.
The won crowded around the mirror, touching up their lipstick, dabbing on highlighter, and even reapplying perfu like it was a group ritual.
One girl leaned forward to add bronzer to her cleavage, the movent deliberate and practiced.
I couldn't help but stare, bewildered.
Riri caught my look and chuckled, "Reloading our weapons."
"Uh-huh . . ." I nodded slowly, unsure whether to laugh or keep my confusion to myself.
"So, you and Cole, huh?" one of the girls asked, snapping her compact shut and turning to with a knowing grin.
"What about us?" I replied cautiously.
The girls exchanged glances before bursting into giggles, clearly amused by my obliviousness.
"Co on, it's obvious he's into you," one of them teased, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.
"Yeah, the way he looks at you? Girl, that's
not
normal," another chid in, fanning herself dramatically.
Riri leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was thinking the sa thing. He's got it bad."
Heat crept up my neck, and I waved my hands dismissively. "You're all imagining things! That's just how he is—stoic, broody, overprotective, and annoying."
"Annoying, sure," one of the girls said, smirking. "But the way he stares at you? Like you're the only person in the room? That's sothing else."
"I wish soone would look at like that," another sighed wistfully.
"Like he's starved, and you're his favorite al!" one added with a devilish grin, sending the group into peals of laughter.
My face burned as their laughter echoed in the tiled room. I glanced at the mirror, my reflection betraying the flush that had risen to my cheeks.
That perverted guy! Just
what
kind of look had he been giving ?
Returning to the room, it was clear that the boys were utterly dazzled by the girls' fresh makeup, as if they'd just witnessed a team of magicians pull off the sa trick simultaneously.
The mixer resud in full swing, and I couldn't help but notice Riri casually snapping selfies with the guy she had her sights set on. She even went the extra mile, claiming she needed his number to send him the pictures.
Slick move, Riri.
I had to admit, in just this short ti, I'd learned quite a bit about the unspoken strategies of mixers—not that I planned to use any of them, of course. Definitely not.
As the evening wore on, the conversation began to shift, moving from light chatter to the boys casually—
too casually
—talking about their work, possessions, and general awesoness. It didn't take long for the alcohol to loosen their tongues.
"I own multiple condo units in the city," one of them boasted, swirling his drink like a seasoned tycoon. "Honestly, I've lost track of how many I have. Perks of being so rich, you know? Sotis, I don't even rember what I own."
"Wow, that's
so
impressive," one of the girls gasped, her eyes wide with admiration.
Not to be outdone, another guy leaned forward, smirking. "Condos? That's nothing. I have three sports cars. Well, four, but one's still being custom-built overseas. I'm thinking of getting a yacht next. You know, sothing small and cozy, just to relax on the weekends."
"Cozy? A yacht?" another girl chid in, blinking like she was trying to process the idea, totally fanning his ego.
"Oh, totally," the guy replied, utterly serious. "Anything bigger would be too flashy."
"Right, right. Flashy. Of course," she said, nodding like it made perfect sense.
The third guy, feeling the pressure to keep up, cleared his throat. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I own a chain of cafés downtown. We're opening two more locations next month. Business is booming."
Riri leaned closer, feigning awe. "That's amazing! I bet you get free coffee every day."
"Of course," he said, puffing out his chest. "But honestly, I've been thinking of branching out into fine dining. Maybe a Michelin-starred restaurant or two. You know, just to diversify."
At this point, the conversation had turned into an unspoken competition of who could sound the most ridiculously wealthy to get the girls fawning over them.
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh when one of the guys said, "And, uh, I have a private jet. Well, I share it with my family, but it's practically mine."
Another guy jumped in, unwilling to be overshadowed. "That's cool, but I'm more into experiences. I just got back from a three-month safari. The guide told I have the makings of a professional wildlife photographer."
By now, the girls were either playing along enthusiastically or trying not to roll their eyes too visibly.
Riri, ever the pro, nodded with mock seriousness. "Wow, that's incredible! You're all so successful. It must be tough to keep track of it all."
"Tough?" the first guy scoffed. "Try impossible! Just yesterday, I found out I still own shares in a tech startup. Totally forgot about it."
"Sa here," the second guy said, as if it were the most relatable thing in the world. "I opened my closet the other day and found a Rolex I didn't even know I had."
At this point, I couldn't help but mutter under my breath, "Must be so hard being rich."
Unfortunately, Cole, who'd been quietly sipping his tea and observing the whole charade, heard . He leaned in, smirking. "See? You're better off with soone like . Low maintenance."
I glared at him. "Low maintenance? You're the most high-maintenance person I know."
He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "But at least I don't brag about yachts or forgotten condos."
"True," I muttered, and, added, "You just barge into mixers uninvited."
"Touché," he said, raising his glass in a mock toast.
"How about you, Cole?" one of the guys asked, turning to him with a curious yet challenging look. It was clear they had noticed he hadn't joined in the unofficial
Who's the Richest in the Room
contest.
George, still sore from being displaced earlier, saw an opportunity to stir the pot. With a smirk, he added, "Yeah, Cole. What's your story? What do you do? What does your family do?"
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