Rebirth: Love me Again

[EVE]

Inside the bathroom, the scene was something out of a makeup commercial.

The women crowded around the mirror, touching up their lipstick, dabbing on highlighter, and even reapplying perfume like it was a group ritual.

One girl leaned forward to add bronzer to her cleavage, the movement 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 me with a knowing grin.

"What about us?" I replied cautiously.

The girls exchanged glances before bursting into giggles, clearly amused by my obliviousness.

"Come 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 chimed in, fanning herself dramatically.

Riri leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was thinking the same 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 something else."

"I wish someone would look at me like that," another sighed wistfully.

"Like he's starved, and you're his favorite meal!" 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 me?

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 same trick simultaneously.

The mixer resumed 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 time, 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 awesomeness. 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? Sometimes, I don't even remember what I own."

"Wow, that'sNôv(el)B\\jnn

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, something small and cozy, just to relax on the weekends."

"Cozy? A yacht?" another girl chimed 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 me 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."

"Same 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 me. He leaned in, smirking. "See? You're better off with someone like me. 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?"