Bryn
I want to make a good impression on him and I really think being free to mingle will be the way to go, so I arrive at the dinner scene dateless, with a backless dress that I cut up and sewed myself, and a gung-ho attitude that quickly takes a hit when I say my name at the door and step in.
Classical music plays in the background, and I’m instantly impressed by the edgy, simple floral arrangements and chrome banquet tables.
It’s not a huge event. But the kind of people here aren’t numerous in the world to begin with. Two hundred of the most elite, rich, high-powered movers and shakers in the city. From bankers (I recognize some) to marketers, to successful business sharks like my possible investor himself.
I feel a prick on the back of my neck, and when I turn, he’s there. He’s seated at a table next to a couple, and I feel my breath snag in my throat when I realize he’s looking at me. His expression pensive. His eyes curious.
I try not to notice how hot he looks in his gray suit with his hair slicked back away from his forehead. A black button shirt and no tie. He smiles at something the couple says and looks away for a second, and I quickly turn around and try to find a glass of wine.
I’m going to need it tonight.
“Hey, babe.”
I glance at the purple-haired man with a drink in his hand. He looks like he’s an artist. Long hair in a ponytail, eyes a little red. I think he’s stoned.
“Want a drink?” he asks.
“The one you spiked, amigo? No, thanks.” I turn away when he grabs my arm to spin me around back to face him.
“How would you know if you haven’t even taken a sip, feisty? Come on, don’t be like that,” he says in an obvious attempt to be charming. “We’re here to mingle. Get to know each other. Aren’t we?” He winks. “I’m Yael—the brains behind every successful campaign you see everywhere.”
My heart skips when I feel the warmth of a body behind me. A pleasant scent of soap envelops me, and my stomach clutches when I recognize the smell. Nobody else would have this effect on me.
I feel his fingers on the small of my back and his voice so close to my ear that the warmth of his breath spills along the back of my neck. “I see you’ve met Yael,” he says.
I feel myself blush and nod.
“Did you go overboard on the coke tonight?” Christos asks him.
“Just following my heart.” He grins.
“Follow my advice—take it down a notch.”
“Christos,” the man says, sobering up instantly. “Come on. I was nervous, all right? I want your gigs.”
“I invited you here to show my partners what you have to offer—I regret you didn’t decide to bring your best to the table.” He nods at me. “He’s still good. You might consider him in the future. If you’ll excuse us, Yael.”
I inhale as he moves me away. “That was harsh,” I say and reach out impulsively to take the glass of wine from his hand. His fingers accidentally touch mine. A million tingles race up my fingertip and arm, making me want to rub the touch away.
Please God, I don’t need this complication.
I down the wine, frowning up at him as he frowns down at me.
“What?”
“I told you to look like a million bucks.”
“What?” I gasp, blinking in shock as he grins—slowly, predatorily.
This man is lethal. His face isn’t spoiled by too much beauty, only chiseled angles and masculine features. It’s very attractive. More than a perfect face, its imperfection stuns you. Everyone seems to stare at it—at him.
He leans forward. “You seem to have mistaken your millions with billions, Wicked Miss Kelly.”
He winks, and all the heat in the world settles inside my stomach.
“Are you all right to mingle?”
“Yes,” I say.
He leaves me and spends the night talking to everyone but me.
He’s clearly the most powerful man in the room, but his attitude is calm. He’s in control, subdued, even though his energy is a pulsing, magnetizing, electric thing noticeable from far away.
I try to ignore it as I make my way through the room, introducing myself to people. “Are you working with Christos?” I’m asked.
“I…well. I might be.” I don’t know what to say. I mean, he’s been asking. He’s seemed interested.
That’s when I realize he’s got other people here, people like me, whom he’s prioritizing with his introductions. I start to stew.
He sends me a smile across the room.
And that’s that.
I start getting really pissed off.
I exhale and try to head outside to get some air when he follows me. I don’t even reach the doors when I feel him behind me and I whirl around.
“You son of a bitch, you’re playing with me. You’re not interested in my business!”
He raises his brows. “I am.”
“Why did you even bring me here? I don’t know what to answer when people ask me about our business. MY business. Which may not even see the light of day.”
“Do you really believe it won’t?”
I purse my lips.
He takes me by the chin. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. I have every confidence you’re not only going to get on your feet. You’ll fly.”
“If you believe that much in me, prove it. Say yes. Give me the money. Do something!” I croak out.
His eyes lose their sparkle, and in its stead, a blazing gold hue takes over them as he reaches into his pocket. Ever so slowly, he pulls out a check. “I was planning to give it to you at the end of the night.”
He stares me down as he hands it over: a check with my name on it and a six-digit figure.
I cannot believe what I’m staring at.
My hand trembles as I take it from him. I fold it in half and tuck it into my purse, my throat raw. “Thank you. I…I’m sorry I overreacted…”
I want to cry. Nobody’s done anything like this for me. I blink and move away, heading to the restroom.
I splash water on my face, then pat it dry and hasten to go back out. Christos is standing with Cole, and that same woman they were sitting with when I arrived is standing with them too.
“Hey, little lady,” Cole says.
“Hi and bye, Cole,” I say, smiling as I hug him.
“You’re leaving?”
I nod. “I’ve got some business cards and I’m inspired to brainstorm with myself now that Christos said yes.” I smile nervously, and Cole frowns.
“Sugar, being invited here is an automatic yes,” he says, as if it’s obvious.
I feel heat on my cheeks as I realize I must have sounded like a desperate idiot to Christos just now. “Well, it’s official,” I say, still avoiding Aaric’s gold gaze. “And he won’t regret it. Well, goodnight!” I nod at all three of them when I hear Christos’s gruff voice.
“He,” he specifies, “will take you home.” He reaches for his jacket on the back of the chair.
“Oh no, I’ll take the train. Thank you. Goodnight.”
“I insist,” he says, warning. Low.
He puts on his jacket and grabs his cell phone from the table.
I pause, breathless when our eyes meet as he pockets his phone. It’s as if he knows I was having a moment in the ladies’ bathroom. “I don’t want you to go out of your way,” I breathe.
“I won’t.” He nods down at me, his voice a little tender.
Cole notices something off for his tone changes too.
“I’ll drop off Therese,” Cole interjects.
“Thank you, goodnight,” Aaric says noncommittally, putting his hand on the small of my back as he leads me outside.
We head for his car. I’m trembling. He puts his arm around me and pins me to his side.
I press closer.
His little act of kindness makes me feel accepted—understood. I feel as if he sees me, and it causes me to come unhinged.
I slide into his car when he opens the door for me, despite my previous efforts to avoid it. I thought it would feel intimate and it does. He’s a powerful, attractive man and I’m only human.
I smell the leather of the car and Aaric as he slides in behind me, shuts the door, and tells his driver his Park Avenue address.
The car heads into traffic.
I turn, and he cups my jaw and presses his lips to mine.