A Date for the Derby - Heidi McLaughlin Page 0,4
shakes William’s hand. There was a time when he hoped there was more to mine and William’s relationship, but I burst his bubble when I told him I wasn’t William’s type.
My father walks to the door and smiles at me before exiting. William takes my arm and links it with his. “Let’s go, my darling.” As soon as we’re out the door, I can hear all the commotion downstairs. William leans in close. “Now don’t let me spoil the night for you. Your dad told me about all the men who look forward to dancing with you at these events. He doesn’t want them thinking you’re taken.”
I roll my eyes. “I see it as you saving me. Whatever you do, don’t leave my side. You’re my wingman tonight.”
Brows furrowed, he jerks his attention my way. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Actually, there is, but there’s no time to explain. As soon as we reach the staircase, all eyes are on us. The foyer is filled with reporters and cameras. Lights flash all around us and I hold onto William’s arm, pulling him close. “I’ll tell you later,” I say through my teeth as I smile.
William’s grin widens. “Oh good Lord. Can’t wait to hear this.”
Arm in arm, we take the stairs together. Once at the bottom, we’re bombarded with comments and questions. William and I pose together for the pictures and he holds me close. Hopefully, having it look like we’re together will take the media’s focus away from me finding the perfect bachelor. Over the years, I’ve dreaded seeing all the pictures with me and various other men with the headlines reading … Which One Will She Choose? It’s like I’m on The Bachelorette trying to find my soulmate in one weeklong carnival of chaos.
One of the reporters, a woman named Charlotte, holds a microphone up to me. She works for one of the local news stations and has interviewed me every year for the past five years. She’s always been nice and reminds me so much of my mother with her blonde hair and kind smile. It makes me miss my mother all over again. Cancer took her away from me last year.
“First of all,” she begins, “you look gorgeous, Brielle. I know everyone always looks forward to seeing your elegant styles every year.”
I glance quickly over at William and smile before focusing back on her. “Thank you, Charlotte. This year I’ve done things a little differently.”
Charlotte beams. “How so? Please tell me.” Her gaze roams down my dress with fascination. “I can already tell your style is different this year. New designer?”
“It is,” I answer happily. Then I look up at William. “This is William Ashton, the designer of everything you’ll see me wearing this season. He’s a dear friend of mine.”
As soon as the other reporters hear what I say, more cameras flash all around us. Charlotte gasps and holds the microphone toward William, asking him a slew of questions just like a gazillion of the other reporters. It’s nice to have the focus on someone other than me for a change.
Once we’ve answered everyone’s questions, we make our way through the house. There are so many people it takes us a while to get through them all. I introduce William to everyone we pass, several of who want William to design their dresses for next year.
“I’m starting to think I’ll never get back to New York,” William says, laughing.
I squeeze his arm. “Is that so bad? You’ll be here with me.”
He winks and gazes around the room. “And all these handsome gentlemen.” Speaking of handsome gentlemen, I search the room for the one person I wondered if I’d see. Colby Hensley. I shouldn’t care about seeing him, but I can’t help it. The last time I saw him was the day he quit working for Armstrong Acres. Right before that, things had started to heat up between us. We stole a few kisses here and there, but it had to be a secret, especially from my father. He wouldn’t approve of me being with a horse trainer. I thought Colby and I meant something to each other, but after he up and quit, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Now he works for our biggest competitor. My father said he left because he was tired of working with us. Talk about a slap in the face.
William and I walk back into the main foyer and he grabs us a couple glasses of champagne. He