Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,75
because he did first. This event is no more than a means to get under my skirt.
I shake those thoughts from my head and reach for my items. “All ready,” I say with a forced air of cheeriness.
He holds out his elbow for me, and I stare at it for a moment. He’s being a gentleman, and all I can think of are Hunter and his words.
“Our chariot awaits,” he says.
I lock the door behind me, and we walk downstairs.
He holds the front door to my building open as I step outside. His usual town car is not waiting for us. Instead, there’s a limo.
“Who else is joining us?” I ask, glancing around the car.
“No one. I thought you deserved a special treat tonight. I guess you’ve never ridden in one?” He slides in the car as the driver holds the door open, and I take the seat beside him.
“Only for my high school prom, and there were sixteen of us packed in like sardines.”
“Rubbish. You should be escorted around town in the best. Don’t you get treated to finer things?”
He’s being sincere, which is one of his greatest qualities, and yet it feels off.
“I’m more of an Uber around town kinda gal.”
“That just shows you haven’t been around town with the right kind of man.” His comment comes off as pompous instead of genuine. Maybe it’s the accent. “Is everything okay, love? You don’t seem yourself.”
I play with the clasp on my purse. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. I suppose I’m nervous about who you’re going to introduce me to.”
“Yes, that. I have a few people in mind.”
The car pulls up to the Fifty-First Street entrance of Rockefeller Center. The one with the lit-up marquee for the Rainbow Room and NBC News.
He opens his palm to me. “Shall we?”
I take his hand, and he escorts me out his side of the car, where I instantly drop his hand to adjust my dress.
We walk into Rockefeller Center and through the lobby to the elevator banks that will take us to the Rainbow Room. Men and women in their finest attire are loading into the available spots. Branson says hi to many as I wait patiently for my chance to board.
Someone makes room for him in a packed elevator, and he steps on. The doors are about to close when he notices he’s left me behind. He stops the doors from closing and calls out for me to climb on board with him.
My back is to him, right up against his chest. He places a hand on my waist, but I don’t know if it’s to touch me for the sake of touching me or to keep himself from losing his balance as he stands in the middle of the car.
The doors open, and I’m the first to step out, handing my jacket to a woman who’s offering a coat check.
The ballroom is iconic with its round dance floor and crystal chandelier. Talk about opulence. From the sixty-fifth floor, you feel like you’re floating among the stars with the most gorgeous view of New York City.
People surround us on all ends, all dressed to the nines in ballgowns and tuxedos. Cameras flash, trying to get the best pictures of everyone as they enter.
Branson places his hand on my lower back as he leads me through the cocktail hour. True to his word, he walks me around the room, introducing me to people as Katherine McGee. I don’t get to have work conversation yet, as everyone seems to be keen on discussing their recent travel plans and when they will open their Hamptons house for the season. A waiter walks by with caviar, and the champagne is even better than what we served at the Empire Media holiday party. It’s all so very high class and extravagant.
I think about my time with Hunter’s family and how simple everything was and yet so perfect. There was something about seeing that man do the dishes that I found impossibly sexy. I giggle to myself, just thinking about how crazy that sounds.
“Everything okay, love?”
“Yes.” I wipe the smile from my face. “Just remembering something.”
He seems put off by that. “Well, as they say, there’s no time like the present.”
“Mr. Ford, you can take your seat. The dinner is getting underway,” a woman says as she turns to escort us directly to our table.
She keeps her eyes on him, glancing back to him multiple times on the short walk from where we’re standing to