8
I meet Stephanie in front of the hotel where the Christmas party is being held. It’s one of those five star places where one night in their cheapest room costs more than my monthly rent. There’s a beautiful display in the lobby with a massive tree decorated with powder blue and white ornaments, twinkling lights, and ribbon cascading down from the top. There is tinsel and garland strewn on every surface, reindeer made of glass, and candy canes made from crystal. The whole thing is a winter wonderland and captures those whimsical feelings the holidays gave me as a child.
“Wow, this is amazing,” I say.
“Let’s take a picture in front of it,” Stephanie suggests. “We look amazing too.”
“No pictures,” I say. Smiling feels like a chore right now.
“Come on. It’ll make you feel better. You are the ultimate vixen in that dress. You shouldn’t keep all that to yourself,” she says, making hand motions toward my body.
I decided to go with a silver mini dress with a low back and black stilettos, even though it’s a big risk with the slippery sidewalks. So far so good.
Heath ending up with that sexy Latina woman from the bar last night has depleted my self-esteem. My last chance at redemption is this dress and these heels. My boobs and legs are my best assets and this dress displays them perfectly without being slutty. At least I know the I.T. nerds at the office party will appreciate them.
“All right, one picture,” I say.
Stephanie finds a bellhop to take our picture in front of the tree. “Make sure to get her legs in the picture,” she says to him.
He nods, gaze sliding up my body, smiling his approval. “Of course.”
“Now smile,” Stephanie says to me. “Fake it till you make it.”
I do my best. When Stephanie gets her camera back from the bellhop and sees the picture of us, she squeals. “We look hot! This is going to be a great party this year. I can feel it.”
I hope so. All the different branches of the company will here, so it won’t be the same stiffs I see day in and day out, but still, it’s a computer logistics company whose techs spend 90% of their lives in their office running diagnostics and playing World of Warcraft. How fun can it be?
“What are you doing with your phone?” I ask, as she types away.
“Tagging you and sending it too all our social media.”
Fantastic. Another photo for the No-O file.
“Let’s get in there and get a drink before I change my mind,” I say.
* * *
The party isn’t half bad, actually. Hank liked his gift and the food is good. Last year it was an unfortunate potluck where everyone brought dishes. There were a whole lot of deviled eggs to the point where the entire room smelled like an outhouse. This year it’s catered, and there’s champagne. And, as always, the eggnog is spiked.
I’m getting plenty of attention in this dress. Several men stand around me, telling me that secretaries are the backbone of the IT business, and without us, the system would fail. All the while their eyes never leave my breasts and legs. I feel like a roasted chicken on display at the grocery store in front of a hungry mob. Maybe this dress wasn’t such a good idea after all. I can’t have an actual conversation with anyone.
While I’m showered with attention, Heath remains in the back of my thoughts no matter how hard I try to push him out. This party was a bad idea. All these men vying for my attention is just making the situation worse because the only man whose attention I want doesn’t want me in return.
I look around the room for Stephanie to tell her goodbye before I leave.
Instead, I find Heath.
He’s next to the door, watching me, a head taller than everyone else in the room. He looks incredibly sexy as usual with his mussed up hair, bomber jack, and that serious gaze. At first I’m confused, like maybe somehow that’s not really Heath, just an image my mind conjured out of the blue from thinking about him so much. Why would he be at the company IT party too?
“Excuse me,” I say to my audience, my legs already moving toward Heath before my words are done leaving my mouth.
“What are you doing here?” I demand when I’m in front of him.
He swallows and runs his hands through his hair as if he were nervous. “I need to talk to you.”
“How did you even know where to find me?”
“The same way I found you last time.” He says the words, but immediately looks as though he wishes he could take them back. Head down, he scrubs his hands over his face.
“What last time?” I say. “You mean on the subway?”
He cusses under his breath.
I shake my head, confused, mad, and intrigued all at once. “That wasn’t a coincidence, was it?” I say.
“Yes …” he says, hesitant, then, “and no.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Please explain. I’d love to hear how that could possibly have a yes and no answer. Also, you’re kind of freaking me out right now.”
“Can we please talk somewhere else?” he asks. “I can’t think straight with all this Christmas music and your hoard of admirers staring me down.”
I glance behind me and see the men I’d been talking to dog-eyeing Heath. That’s exactly how I’d felt with all those women looking at me at the bar last night. Serves him right.
“Fine. Let’s go out into the lobby,” I say.
Once we’re alone, he reaches out and pulls me into a hug. I stiffen in his arms. When I don’t hug him back, he steps away.
“You look incredible,” he says.
My hands shake. I wish I had pockets to hide them in.
“Thanks.”
He looks incredible too, but I’m not about to return the compliment.
He stands there watching me. I start to fidget. “If you’re not going to explain yourself, I’m going back to the party,” I say.
The muscle in his jaw flexes. There’s tension in the set of his mouth. “I was in Brettsville the day we met on the subway. I was checking in at the restaurant I own, going over the new menu with the chef. Then I saw you were tagged in all those ‘No-O’ posts at the subway station. I saw an opportunity and I took it. I thought I could follow you and bump into you on the street, make it look like an accident. But then you needed my help.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So you were stalking me.”
Words stumble clumsily out of his open mouth. Every time I’ve been with him he’s been so self-assured. Not now. “What? No. Okay, kind of, but I’m not normally like this. I don’t need to stalk anyone to get a date. It’s just, I wanted to meet you and I knew you wouldn’t agree to go on a date with me because of the whole sex with strangers thing. I figured if we met in person, I wouldn’t be a stranger anymore and I could win you over.”
Which is exactly what he did.
I kind of like this fumbling side of him. It’s refreshing. I would find it rather sweet had it not been for the fact that he slept with another woman less than an hour after he slept with me and allowed her to use his phone to taunt me.
I let out a huff of breath. “What did you come here for?”
He takes my hand. I should pull away from him, but I don’t. His touch is comforting even though I hate him right now.
“I tried calling you last night, but you didn’t answer,” he says.
That’s because my phone is in a hundred pieces on my floor.
“It’s not working at the moment. And frankly, even if it were still working, I wouldn’t have answered it anyway. Not after last night. I’m not into games,” I say.
He laces his fingers with mine, pulling me closer to him.
Damn it. Why do I still want him?
“Whatever you think happened last night, it didn’t. I swear to you. I forgot my phone at the bar before you and I went into the office. I didn’t even realize it was missing until I went to text you goodnight and to tell you what an amazing time I had with you. I went onto my computer to track it and then I saw you’d responded to something I’d posted on Twitter. Except, I didn’t post it. That’s when I saw what that woman—whom I’ve never spoken to ever or seen before that night—had written to you.
“I had to go to a payphone and call her to ask for my phone back. She tried holding it hostage and said the only way she would give it back was if I had sex with her.”
I chew on my bottom lip, afraid of the answer I’ll get to my next question. “Did you?”
He screws up his face, looking angry. “Fuck no. I would never do that. I contacted Corbin at the bar and had him take it from her and kick her out of my restaurant. I picked it up after I got off work today and have been trying to get ahold of you ever since.
“Your restaurant?” I say.
“Yeah. I own it. Corbin runs it for me. I have one in San Pedro County and a couple on the east coast as well.”
My jaw drops on the floor. That luxurious restaurant where drinks cost as much as a meal, and an actual meal would cost me a full paycheck … belongs to him? I thought we went there because his friend worked there, but he took me there because he owns it. And all of that time thinking someone might walk in on us in that office. That office was his.
“So you lied about that too?” I say, furious. First the subway, now this. I probably shouldn’t, but I believe him about not sleeping with that woman last night. There’s something sincere about his words that I don’t think even the best liar could fake. Still, he’s been playing me this whole time.
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you,” he says. “You didn’t tell me you worked for an IT company. I didn’t think it mattered.”
“But I didn’t fuck you in my office and not tell you I worked there either.”
He sighs and pulls me in even closer until my chest is touching his and I have to look up at him. “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t ready to let you into my life until I knew for sure I wanted you in it.”
“Do you?” I ask.
“More than anything. Seeing that crazy woman’s post to you and thinking about how it might hurt you, it drove me crazy. I knew then I wanted to only be with you.” The crease on the skin between his eyes deepens when he looks down at me. “Don’t you feel that connection between us too?”
I put my hands around his back, run my fingers up his spine. “I do, but it will be hard to date someone who lives an hour away.”
“That’s going to change very soon. I talked to Corbin this morning. He’s been begging to take over the restaurant in San Pedro County, and I kind of like Brettsville. I figured we could switch places. See what happens.”
I take his face between my hands and pull him into a kiss. He clings to me as if I might float away like a balloon if he were to let go.
When we part, he looks at me with a flirty smile and says, “You know, they have really nice rooms here, and I don’t think I can wait another minute to have you all to myself.”
“Lead the way.”
* * *