“How many employees am I going to have to layoff to pay for stunts like this if he keeps it up?”
“I’ll help you fix it,” I promise her.
I’m shocked to see several guys in the crowd wearing those big yellow hats that Brooke tried to get me to wear. I guess I should know better than to question my sister when it comes to fashion.
The first model walks out and there’s a snicker from the crowd. He’s wearing huge white boots and bright red overalls that look like they’re made of plastic.
It doesn’t stop there. One model after another comes out, looking like they’re cosplaying for the space version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
All around us, people are whispering and laughing. It’s not going well.
Even the models seem to be embarrassed about the clothes they’re wearing. One girl hides her face from the photographer who stands up to take her picture. Ouch.
“I can’t watch anymore,” Victoria says as she finds my hand and squeezes it. “Let’s go.”
She gets up and I follow her into the room we were in before. There are a few people who are enjoying the show as much as we are, grabbing drinks and stuffing their faces with the remaining appetizers.
Victoria looks really upset. She’s near tears. “Please get me out of here,” she says as she squeezes her eyes shut.
The security guards start advancing on the people by the bar, telling them to either head inside or leave the premises. “You can’t stay here,” one of them barks at the freeloaders.
“Follow me,” I say as I grab her hand and head away from the security guards.
I have to find another place where we can stay. I know she doesn’t want to go back into the room, but it’s also too early to leave. Like it or not, she is part owner of this train wreck and we might have to make sure it doesn’t fly off the rails even more than it already has.
We burst through a door that says Employees Only on it and rush down the hallway, Victoria’s heels click-clacking on the cement floor.
“Let’s try in here,” I say as I push open a random door.
“Wow,” she gasps when we walk into another huge empty ballroom. The lights are off with only the blue lights from the emergency exits casting a warm sensual glow throughout the large cavernous room.
I watch her as she sinks against the wall and closes her eyes, taking several deep breaths. She’s so beautiful. I can’t even handle it.
Her strength and confidence as she charged up to our table at the wedding and demanded a meeting was what drew me to her in the first place, but this other side of her, the soft vulnerable side, is what’s making me fall in love.
I want to be the man she goes to when she’s like this. When the world is weighing heavily on her shoulders. When she’s falling apart. When she’s about to break into pieces.
I’ll be the man to lift her back up. To dust her off. To get her back into fighting shape.
I’ll be the one she can count on. Her rock. Her safe space. Her man.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she covers her face with her hands. “What a great date I am, eh?”
She drops her hands and looks up at me with a sigh. “You can take me home if you want. I know this hasn’t been very fun for you.”
“This has been the best night of my life.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, right. It’s been a disaster. All I’ve done is complain about my brother.” She shakes her head as she drops her eyes to my shoes. “And I really liked you. I thought for once…”
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
“No, tell me.”
She sighs. “I thought that we might be good together. That we might have clicked. But of course, I ruined it.”
“You didn’t ruin it.”
She looks up at me with the softest brown eyes imaginable. It’s like she’s gripping my soul. I’d do anything for this girl.
“I didn’t?”
“Come here,” I say as I reach out my hand to her.
She looks at it for a second and then slides her hand into mine. I pull her back up to her feet and walk her into the middle of the dance floor.
A smile returns on her face as she looks around the vast empty room.
“What are you smiling at?”
“It’s like my favorite scene in Beauty and the Beast. They dance in an empty ballroom. It’s so romantic.”
I pull out my phone and quickly find Beauty and the Beast by Celine Dion on Spotify.
“Awww,” she says as I hit play and put the phone upside in the chest pocket of my coat.
“Perfect song,” I tell her. “You’re definitely a beauty.”
“But you’re no beast,” she says as she looks up at me with desire in her hazelnut eyes.