CHAPTER EIGHT
“There. That should do it.” Emanuel had instructed me into a mauve-colored gown with a plunging neckline and off the shower sleeves. “You look perfect.” He purred, rolling his Rs as he looked at me. “Now for the piece de resistance.” He pulled out some open toe, white lace pumps. “Fifth Avenue.” He grinned.
“You mean Saks Fifth Avenue.”
“That’s the one.” His grin deepened. “Limited edition.”
I snatched up the shoes and grinned. I hadn’t held a designer shoe in my hand since I sold off my collection to pay off some of my debt. “And I can wear them?”
“Of course you can, now hurry, your escort will be here any minute.” I nodded and sat down to put them on. They fit me perfectly. I stood up and looked down. The knee length front hem of the dress allowed the shoes to be on full display.
“How’s the back hem? You’re not going to trip, are you?” I looked behind me. The train of the dress just barely skimmed the ground.
“I should be okay.”
“Then my work here is done.” As Emanuel started to pack up his things there was a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, I opened it. I felt a little more confident now, especially since Emanuel had transformed me into some kind of goddess. I still had the fear I would smudge my makeup throughout the night or that one of my fake eyelashes would fall off or something but Emanuel had assured me that nothing would happen and I trusted him. At the door, a security guard stood there looking like a giant. Even with my heels on, he towered over me. “Come with me, Ms. Winslow.”
I followed as best I could. The dress fanned out behind me and I worried that maybe I would trip over it after all but it was too late to go back now.
***
We arrived at a ballroom. It looked like something straight out of a movie. Floor to ceiling windows draped with gold-colored curtains. Chandeliers. A brilliant dance floor. Elegantly placed tables surrounding it.
The room was large, but still it was crowded. Waiters walked around holding platters filled with appetizers. Large shrimp surrounded a dish of cocktail sauce. Chucks of gourmet cheese. Bruschetta. Quinoa sushi rolls.
A waiter walked up to me and handed me a glass of champagne. I held it, taking a sip before walking around. I kept my eyes on some of the guests. I spotted the red-haired twins who were standing near a couple of men in deep purple tuxedos. They looked very similar. Same sharp nose. Same black hair. But one of the men was a bit shorter than the other. Fraternal twins maybe. Their laughs were identical: bellowing and straight from the gut.
I kept walking around, lingering near a large group where I blended in easily. Being in this atmosphere was easy for me. I had spent a fair share of my time at parties from galas to get togethers to functions. I watched a tall, dark-skinned man with braided hair walk toward a beautifully crafted ice sculpture. He was on his phone, pacing around, looking distraught. His dark eyes burned. His plump lips moved rapid fire as he shot words into his phone.
I looked away, spotting a few older men, reminding me of Bruce. One of them with shocking white hair and a crooked nose, kissed a young woman on the hand, behaving like a perfect gentleman. The girl had a soft giggle that traveled through the air. Her short, brunette hair bounced off of her shoulders. I took another sip from my drink, surprised how everyone in the room seemed to be incredibly attractive, no matter their age. I wondered how on Earth I compared to these other women, especially since some of them looked like supermodels with their long legs, killer bodies, and flawless smiles.
Feeling self-conscious, I moved toward the doors, thinking no one would notice me but I could feel the weight of various gazes. I looked seductively over my shoulder making eye contact with a man who looked to be in his late thirties. He had an angular face and deep-set eyes and short hair. He grinned at me and I smiled back, tossing my hair over my shoulder before I walked away. He looked very good for his age. Very rugged. A man’s man.
I placed my empty champagne glass on a table and lingered there. I still didn’t know what my job was here at Breslyn’s, but I had a hunch that the more attention I gained from the men, the better it would be.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around, face to face with the rugged individual. He was even more handsome in person. There was a bit of gray stubble on his face but it suited him well, softening his otherwise harsh appearance. His eyes were hazel and kind. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were…”
“Why would you apologize?” I asked, grinning at him.
He beckoned over a waiter, grabbing two more drinks. I grabbed one out of his hand, making sure to brush my fingers against his skin. “Thank you.”
“I’ve never seen you here before.” He pointed out.
I tensed a bit. “Oh, you just weren’t looking,” I said smoothly. I didn’t want to give away that I was new at this and that frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I grabbed my champagne, taking a slow, seductive sip, making sure not to smudge my lipstick. I couldn’t remember if Emanuel said it was the long-lasting kind or not. Either way, I didn’t want purple lipstick on my face.
“I don’t think I’d overlook someone as beautiful as you.”
“You flatter me.” I could feel my cheeks burn with blush and wondered if it showed through the makeup.
“You haven’t told me your name,” I whispered, getting closer to him, mimicking some of the other girls.
“Greg Ferguson.”