Chapter Sixteen
Cierra
I pulled on a pair of black heels to complete the look and fluffed my hair in the mirror. I had to admit I looked pretty damn good, and I didn’t have to use most of my paycheck for it, lucking out by finding the dress at Nordstrom’s Rack. The minute I saw the black tulle cocktail dress with a spattering of crystal beading, I loved it. When I saw it was backless, I had to have it. I wanted to look awesome for the launch since so many high-profile people were going to be there.
Yeah… I didn’t think that was very convincing.
I hated to admit it, but I’d bought the dress to wow the hell out of Trace. For the past week, I’d acted like I didn’t care whether I saw or talked with him, but the truth was it was the longest week I’d had since I started working at Velocity. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt by Trace’s indifference. So what did I do about it? I bought a sexy, in-your-face dress to show him that I didn’t give a damn if he wanted to ignore me. I only wished Cory could’ve come with me to really show Trace I didn’t care.
I pulled out a few tendrils from my upswept hair, swiped on dark, wine-red lipstick, and grabbed my satin clutch. A final glance in the mirror assured me that I at least looked the part of assistant director of marketing, even if I was beyond jittery at that moment. The phone buzzed on the countertop. Perfect timing. I grabbed it and checked to see who was calling me—the cab had arrived. Sliding on my black cashmere cape, I opened the door and walked out.
On the ride to the Four Seasons, butterflies danced the samba in my stomach. I would be under a microscope by the press, the stockholders, the board of directors, and a ton of other people who had money and influence in the business community. Everything I’d worked for over the past few months culminated in that one night.
There was an air of excited tension as I entered the ballroom. The team and I had managed to pull off the launch of the year, and a thread of pride and satisfaction wound around me. Heads turned to look at me, and a woman rushed up to take my cape. Scooping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and taking a sip, I looked around. Yeah, this was exactly what I’d pictured all those months before when we’d started planning this event.
It looked like some kind of fancy post-awards show party, with everyone dressed impeccably and mingling easily. The booze and food were flowing, and the phones were set up under little glass display cases, giving the impression of some ancient and important artifact that wasn’t for the consumption of the general public—yet. Those glass cases would slide down later in the night and allow guests to play with the new phones. I couldn’t wait to see their faces once they got their hands on them.
“Cierra, you look lovely,” Lindsey said as she came toward me, husband in tow.
“Thanks. Isn’t it exciting?” I asked as I snagged my second glass of champagne.
“It’s beautiful. You did a wonderful job in overseeing all of this.”
“Thanks, but I definitely didn’t do it by myself. The team we have in our department is amazing.”
Several more people came up to me, hugging and air-kissing. Photographers came over and snapped a zillion pictures of me, Lindsey, and the people on my team who were there. It was crazy and I was loving it. When Sofie joined me, I clasped her arm and tugged her into the photo shoot.
“You look sensational,” she whispered between clicks.
“You do too.” I beamed and took in her blood red short dress with gold metallic threading. She squeezed my forearm, and then we smiled widely for the cameras.
My face felt like it would break with all the smiling I’d been doing, and I was happy to spend a few minutes with Sofie and Colin just chatting. Waiters carrying silver platters of bacon-wrapped shrimp, mini quiches, jalapeño poppers, and chicken teriyaki and pineapple on skewers weaved in and out of the crowd. I managed to scarf down some of the poppers and quiches before I had to schmooze with the editors of the technology magazines who were milling around the glass cases.
As I headed over to them, I looked around the room and my eyes fell on Trace. He was wearing a charcoal Armani suit with slightly darker lines that tapered in and drew attention to the wideness of his shoulders. Under it, he had on a purple tie that popped against the white shirt. His hair was slicked back and he was perfectly clean-shaven, and honestly, I couldn’t remember a time when he’d looked better to me. I noticed several women giving him a double take as they passed by, and I didn’t blame them one bit. He looked so handsome, chatting away with industry people, most probably charming the hell out of them, a glass of wine in hand. A man in black-framed glasses said something to him, and he tilted his head back and smiled. My gaze lingered on his mouth; I knew what his lips could do. For a brief second, I could feel them on mine, devouring them.
“Someone from the Chronicle is looking for you,” Lindsay said as she breezed by me.
“Uh… right.” Focus. I’m here to promote Vibra, not ogle Trace. As I turned to the glass cases where a large group of people congregated, a woman approached him, and my stomach dropped. She was around his age, with blonde hair pulled up into a delicate chignon at the back of her head, dripping with expensive-looking jewelry, and wearing a dress I was certain I’d seen on a high-fashion catwalk not so long ago. She slipped her hand around his arm and leaned in, whispering something in his ear. The sweet smile he gave her made me press my lips together and roll my eyes. Who is she? When he was kissing me, he didn’t act like he was with someone. He’s such an asshole!
Instead of meeting the tech journalists who were waiting for me by the display cases, I stood studying her. She looked about as far removed as possible from the women Trace was usually spotted with on the cover of those tabloid magazines, but somehow that made it all the worse. The only thing she had in common with any of the women Trace dated was that she was blonde. Like Kelsey. Trace clearly had a physical type, and I didn’t fulfil it.
Gritting my teeth, I stalked over to the journalists, pushing Trace to the back of my mind. I refused to let him ruin the night for me. I was getting bent out of shape for what, a few incredible kisses? He never promised anything. We just got caught up in the moment. He was here with his date, or his girlfriend, or his whatever, and I wasn’t going to let it bother me.
The whole time I spoke with the journalists, anger seethed inside me. I was so pissed at Trace, and for some crazy reason I felt betrayed, even though I knew I was being ridiculous. I’d wanted him to show up looking forlorn and like he hadn’t slept well, not sexy and handsome as hell in a killer suit.
“What’s wrong?” Sofie asked, snapping me out of my stupid little mood. She handed me a glass of champagne. “You look really upset.”
I shook my head, pushing all thoughts of Trace and that beautiful blonde woman on his arm out of my head, and smiled. “Nothing. I guess I got a little head rush. I’m fine now.”
“It is overwhelming. Why don’t you get some food with us? The buffet just opened.”
“You and Colin go ahead. I’ll be along in a few minutes.” I brought the glass to my mouth and took a deep drink as I watched her disappear into the crowd.
A waiter balancing a silver tray covered in tempting hors d’oeuvres came up to me, asking if I wanted the coconut shrimp while he handed me a napkin. I took one and while I was nibbling on it, I glanced over in Trace’s direction. He was watching me, his intense gaze holding me still while my hand stopped midair, a half-eaten shrimp between my thumb and index finger. My eyes darted to his date, who was turned away from him and chatting with an older man, then back to him. Our eyes locked over the crowd, and something in my chest seized up as his gaze burned into mine. I shivered on the spot, inwardly hating the effect he had on me.
“This is one helluva launch, and you look sexy and amazing,” Paul gushed as he brushed up next to me. The scent of whiskey radiated from him and I stepped back.
“You look like you’re having a good time. The launch is successful because of you and the rest of the team.”
Paul leaned in to me, his arm dangled around my shoulder. “You’re too humble. You can’t be that way in this cutthroat business. And you smell so good. You always do. Did I tell you that you look damn hot in that dress?”
In trying to politely push him away, I lost my footing and stumbled backward, bumping into someone. Paul stood there with a Cheshire cat grin on his face while his unfocused eyes watched me. Strong arms steadied me and I pivoted around to apologize when the scent of him wafted around me. I stood still, barely breathing. It can’t be. But it was. All at once, I was acutely aware of his fingers on my skin, his breath on my shoulders, and his hard chest pressed against my back. The room grew small and a suffocating heat consumed me. I slowly turned around to face the man who’d put my emotions through the wringer for the past week.
Slowly and seductively, his gaze slid downward, taking in every inch of me as my skin tingled and my pulse pounded. The one thing I could count on was my body’s reaction to Trace Prescott. No matter how hard I tried, it just wouldn’t behave.
“Congratulations.” He squeezed my upper arm. “You did a fantastic job with this launch. You must be proud.”
I lifted my chin as I pulled away from him. “I am.”
Paul came closer and dangled his arm around my shoulder again. I wanted to push him away, but the glint of anger in Trace’s eyes made me laugh and bat my eyes at Paul. Totally high school, but the sting of seeing him with a beautiful, elegant-looking woman was still there.
He darted his gaze between the two of us, then said, “I can see you’re busy. I just came over to congratulate you.” He spun around and disappeared into the crowd. When I couldn’t see him any longer, I elbowed Paul and walked away.
As the evening progressed, I snuck too many peeks at Trace and his blonde date, and drank too many flutes of champagne. Self-pity crept in, and even though the unveiling of the new phone was a smash and everyone congratulated me, loneliness spread through me. I was in a packed room on one of the biggest nights of my career, and I felt lonely as hell. All of a sudden, excited voices became fingernails on a chalkboard, aromatic scents of rosemary and thyme became repugnant, and champagne became my enemy. I couldn’t breathe. The room was closing in on me, and I had to get out of there.
I teetered toward the French doors and slipped out onto the patio, the cool night air a welcome change to the stuffiness inside. Tilting my head back, I inhaled and exhaled deeply, letting the crisp, briny air fill my lungs. The city lights twinkled on the bay, and I watched them shimmer across the water in the light spring breeze. I had to clear my head. Not a jealous person, I was surprised how upset I was about Trace’s date. I had to forget about him, and if I couldn’t, I needed to leave Velocity and find work with another company.
I looked behind me. I didn’t want to go back inside. I liked the fresh air, the cover of night, and the mesmerizing effect of the water. I didn’t want to think about anything anymore. Especially Trace Prescott.
I sighed and stared at the ocean.