was the look in his dark eyes when he did it.
She had never, ever seen Tate look at her like that. Lordy, if it wasn't completely embarrassing to admit, she might even go so far as to say that her traitorous knees had been preparing for a mutiny when she'd seen that flicker of interest in his freakishly chiseled face. And wouldn't that be perfect?
She could just imagine Triple E staring down at her with disdain stamped over her features, causing Rachel to crumple to the floor. Then the mayor would probably have had a heart attack triggered by a droopy hydrangea and then Natalie would have chosen that exact moment to glide, yes glide, into the room and lay one on Tate's mouth.
She straightened up and smoothed a hand down her dress, snapping out of the nightmare that would never come to fruition.
No droopy hydrangeas could be found on the entire premises of the hotel.
Natalie wasn't here and wouldn't be getting close to Tate's lips.
And she, Rachel Nora Hennessy, had no weak knees.
She pivoted to head back into the ballroom, knowing that she needed to double check that the vegetarian meals were going to the right seats, and almost ran smack into Emily.
It went down like nails covered in glass and then coated in tar to admit, but Triple E looked flawless. The gold sequined column dress covered her lithe frame in a way that was sexy and still classy.
Bitch.
"Why are you hiding back here? Trying to escape the train wreck of this event you put together?"
Aaaaaaand there went her heart rate again. Rachel clenched her jaw and pulled air in through her nose.
"I'm not hiding," she replied, her tone staying miraculously even. "I just needed to use the restroom."
"Already? You've been here for like two minutes."
"I've put in ten hours just today, Emily. I think you're well aware of that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to check a few things in the kitchen, and then make sure the silent auction items are set up correctly."
Emily crossed her slim arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes, and Rachel stepped to walk past her. She was about clear the alcove when Emily spoke from behind her.
"You're insane if you think I'll recommend you or this company to anyone after this."
Don't do it. Don't do it. Customer loyalty is ... the ... the ... something something ...
Job. Paycheck. Can't be stuck at parents forever. Don't. Do. It.
Rachel whirled around, not really giving two shits about the pep talk Deidre had given her earlier. "What exactly is your problem? I don't know what I ever did to you, but I am not going to let you treat me like the shit that your Louboutins stumbled into. If you feel insecure because of how little you scare me, then I truly am sorry." She stepped towards Emily and got a ridiculous charge from the way her skinny little shoulders jerked at the sudden movement.
She scoffed. "You're delusional if you think I feel insecure around you."
"Then please," Rachel said, spreading her arms wide. "Explain it to me. Because it looks incredible in there. I have been nothing but professional with you, and I have put up with every possible snide and degrading comment that you could come up with over the past year. I organized a damn good event that will bring in a lot of money, so why else do you hate me so much?"
Emily tilted her head, and oh, did Rachel want to smack it back into place. "I don't hate you. I couldn't possibly bring myself to feel that strongly about you."
"Okaaaaay, fine. Then what is it?"
"You're exactly the kind of woman that makes my skin crawl, Rachel."
Scriiiiiiiiiitch. That sound when the needle crawls across a vinyl record? Rachel heard it echo through her head.
And then she laughed. "What?" she gasped out when she finally collected herself. "I'm what kind of woman?"
Emily narrowed her eyes. "The kind who laughs at a moment like this. I literally hold your job in my hands, and you can't find even a modicum of respect. You think that being the sarcastic, brazen redhead makes you something special. You're worse than a cliche. You're a clown, a caricature."
Rachel's chest heaved, and she struggled to pull her tongue from where it stuck to the roof of her suddenly dry mouth. She could have bit down on her tongue until it drew blood and it wouldn't have made a lick of difference.
"Well, color me impressed.