The Boss Upstairs - Roya Carmen Page 0,81

Gretchen. I don’t want you to think that way. It was just one of those unthinkable things that happen in life. I blamed myself for years for Jonathan’s death. If only I’d been around more. If only I’d paid more attention. It’s taken me years of therapy to realize that it wasn't my fault.”

I look up at him, thinking about his precious little boy, only six months old, a bigger tragedy than Donovan’s passing. “I’m so sorry, Weston.”

We’re both in tears when the server reappears. Realizing she’s just inadvertently stepped into a private moment, she quickly backtracks. “Uh… I’ll come back later. I’ll bring you the dessert menu shortly.”

Weston and I smile at each other. “Look at us,” he says, “a bunch of sad saps.”

“You know what I need to cheer me up?”

He smiles mischievously. “A little bum slapping?” His gaze darts across the room. “I don’t think I can oblige right now, not unless you want to sneak into the washroom with me.”

I laugh out loud. “No… you dirty boy. I need dessert.”

“Well, that, we can definitely manage.”

35

I’m overwhelmed by the beauty of this place. I feel like a princess in another era. Everyone is dressed to the nines, and I no longer feel conspicuous in my Chanel gown. I’m frozen, my gaze skyward. The interior architecture is exquisite, beautiful light fixtures dot the gold coffered gilded ceiling. Marble floors and stunning giant pillars complete the picture. “Amazing, isn’t it?” Weston says.

“Sure is.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here.”

I smile. “I’ve led a very dull life apparently.”

He takes my hand as we head to our seats, a few rows back from the stage. The red velour seat is super soft, and I feel very special, very sophisticated in my dress.

“You look beautiful,” he tells me again.

I blush. “Thank you. You clean up good yourself, Mr. Hanson.”

He leans in closer. “You know… I twitch every time you call me that,” he whispers. “Mr. Hanson.”

I laugh. “I knew you liked it.”

He takes my hand again, and wraps it in both of his. I study his hands. They’re beautiful and soft. His finger are long, and his nails are well kept. My nails look nice too, painted a soft pink. I can’t see the wedding ring I still wear on my finger. It’s hidden in Weston’s hands.

The curtains finally open, and the show starts. The Color Purple, based on the novel by Alice Walker. I remember reading it in school and loving it. I was really affected by it, and knew I would never forget it. I also really enjoyed the movie adaptation.

I’m completely mesmerized. The singing fills me with chills, and I can’t peel my eyes away, not even for a second. Weston never lets go of my hand. Not until intermission.

“I just love watching you,” he says. “You’re precious.”

I blush. “What can I say? I love this kind of thing.”

He smiles. “I tried to shoot you a sexy grin here and there, but your eyes were glued to the stage the whole time.”

“I really have to pee now.”

He laughs. “Well, we better hurry then, before the line gets too long.”

He grabs my hand and leads me out of the theatre, and all I can think is, I could get used to this.

“Good evening, Miss Gretchen,” Edward says as I step out of the town car.

I smile up at him. “You too, Edward.”

Weston joins me and takes my hand. I lift the skirt of my long dress as we walk to Orchard Heights. A different security guard opens the door for us, and we make our way in. My heels click-clack against the tiled floor in the lobby. Weston presses the elevator button.

“So the security guards… are they permanent?”

He smiles. “I like to think of them as doormen. And yes, they are.”

“Oh…” I can’t quite believe it. All because of me.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures me. “Condo fees won’t increase.”

I smile. “Did you do this because of what happened with Samuel?”

The elevator doors ping open. “Yes, initially. I care about your safety and the safety of everyone in my buildings. It made me realize that security was quite lax here.” He presses the P button.

I press the 2 button. He smiles at me and shakes his head. “You’re not going home quite yet. You’re coming with me.”

“Uh… but Claudia will be expecting me.”

“Can you call her and ask her to stay the night?” he asks. “It’s a lot to ask, but it’s late already. Perhaps she won’t mind.”

I really, really love the