Maybe we’ll go to a restaurant or for a cocktail. Cocktails will lead to kisses and kisses to more. We’ll be under the sheets and making love, and …
“Can you ring for a car to pick me up in twenty minutes? This party is post, but if I’m being honest, I have a date waiting for me at the Blue Ribbon. If you could help me escape without anyone knowing where I’m going, it would be a real treat. Can you do that for me, love?”
My heart, the one that was pounding amorously moments ago, has now stopped.
He has a date.
Waiting for him.
And he wants me, the ever-faithful assistant, to help him get to her.
“You have a … date?” I try to sound unaffected.
“And you can get out of here too. Hang with your friends. Go home and bake one of those wonderful cakes you like to make for the office.”
I glance down at my green dress, realizing now how stupid I was for wasting the money, and mumble a curse. “You stupid, day-dreaming idiot.”
“I’m sorry. I missed that,” he states in his fine accent, leaning in like he’s truly concerned.
If he only knew.
“Nothing.” I swallow my hurt and blink up at him with eyes that feel like they want to cry, but I won’t let them. I hold my chin up as I speak, “I can arrange that. I’ll have the car meet you in the garage, so no one sees you leave. The party’s large, and they’ll all be five glasses deep in no time. I’ll text you the details.”
Branson grabs my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I close my eyes at the brief contact. It’s the first time he’s kissed me. I’ve dreamed of having his lips on my skin, but this is all so different than what I imagined.
“I can’t live without you.” His mouth says the words I’ve longed to hear, but his face says it’s because he’s happy with only my job performance, not me as a woman or his love interest.
“Oh!” He reaches into his fine Italian suit jacket and procures an envelope. “This is for you. For all your hard work.”
I take the envelope from him and search inside. It’s a gift certificate for a salon and spa on Fifth Avenue. It’s a place I can’t afford to go on my own, but he’s treating me to a full day of pampering and beautification.
I turn away, trying to regroup. It’s silly to think this polished and powerful man, who looks like a prince and speaks like a king, would ever see me the way I hoped he would. Like his queen.
“Thank you,” I say, holding up the envelope. “I’ll get glossed and glammed!” My joke makes him laugh.
“Brilliant!” he says and then waves at someone over my shoulder. “You know, my mum is always telling me I have to be good to you. She’s grown quite fond of you when she rings.”
“And I, her. She’s always asking me when you’re going to settle down. She wants me to set you up with someone.” That someone could be me.
“Yes, and I plan to. Not getting any younger. Perhaps the woman of my dreams is right under my nose.” There’s a twinkle to his eye. I part my lips to speak, but before I can utter a sound, he sees someone over my shoulder and lifts a hand to them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go say hello to a few people before I sneak out of here.”
I nod my head in understanding as he walks away.
With a deep breath, I keep myself facing the windows. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” is playing on the speakers, and people have started to dance. The room grows noisier with alcohol-infused conversation, and the waiters have started to serve the second round of hors d’oeuvres.
I take out my phone and arrange for Branson’s pickup. It’ll be here in five minutes. I forward him the confirmation and then toss my phone back in my purse. I grab a flute of champagne off a serving tray and down it in three quick swallows.
Everyone is laughing and chatting away as I watch Branson move about the room. He places his hand on another woman’s arm, the same way he did to me before. It has me grabbing another champagne glass. When he kisses Iris from the Sales department on the cheek, I take a third, drain it, and then slam it down with a