Chapter 8

Maya

The week had been uneventful which was good and bad. Good because there hadn’t been any drama, and bad because although I’d gotten my things, Craig had my phone with him and I still needed to get it. James told me he’d buy me a new one, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. He’d let me call home, and I had been able to talk to my friend Rosie who’d said she had a couch and a job at her mother’s herb shop if I wanted it. I thanked her for the offer, but I’d try and make the most of New York. I told her about the party, and she said she didn’t blame me for wanting to stay.

James’ rejection had hurt, and even though I knew he was a good guy and trying not to take advantage of me, it still had bruised my ego.

I had tried for days to get him to go to the party with me on the sixty-ninth floor, but he was so stubborn about mingling with the others in the building.

I held my dress up and turned in the mirror. I still had a few things to do to get ready, but I’d wanted to see the color next to my skin one more time. Red lipstick would never do. Maybe the pink. I’d managed to grab a few cosmetics but hadn’t found the right lip shade.

“Is that the dress for tonight?”

I looked up to see James behind me in the mirror. It was nice to see a different reflection other than Craig’s, but James’ seemed uncertain.

“Do you not like it? It’s one from your friend’s shop. What did you say her name was again?” He hadn’t said, but I wanted to know. I wondered tirelessly about the women in his life, and though I knew he’d had a few calls since I’d come to live with him, he’d kept that part of his life to himself.

“Her name is Tabitha. She’s been a friend for years.” The name struck a nerve, but only because Craig knew her too. He’d done some shots for her catalog.

“Tabitha,” I mumbled. “Did you two date?”

“I don’t date, but if you’d like to know if we were intimate, the answer is no. Isn’t that neckline a little low?” He walked over and put his hand up to rest it on his chin and gave me a contemplative look.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with me?”

“Positive. I was just thinking it’s a shame you’re going. I could take you down to the Lovehouse. It’s the best food in the city, and I have a standing reservation, no wait time.”

He had tried his best to bribe me into not going by offering me shopping earlier that morning, and now he suddenly wanted dinner with me. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m sure they’ll have wonderful food at the party.”

“Careful what you eat. I don’t want you to have a reaction. Take your tablets I gave you.” He walked out leaving me to get ready.

Once my hair was done up, I slipped into my dress and stepped out to ask for his help. “Could you zip me, please.” His eyes widened as I approached and spun around.

He moved my hair aside and put his nose on my shoulder; his warm breath tickled sending tingles to all of my most intimate places. “You smell good enough to eat.” He slipped the zipper up, his fingers tickling my neck.

“How do I look?” I spun around, and he looked me up and down, but his expression stayed relaxed.

“Beautiful. I’m sure you’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

“I’m hardly a girl.” I did appreciate him thinking so.

“You’re younger than me, and you have breasts; you’re a girl. Are you sure you don’t want to go to dinner with me?”

“I will go if you take me to the party first.” I thought a compromise might work. If he didn’t have to stay long, maybe he’d at least make an appearance with me.

“Never mind. Have a wonderful time. And don’t forget your key. I’m going to be late tonight. Don’t wait up.” He cut his eyes, and I tried to keep the disappointment off my face. This was the way things were. We weren’t a couple, or dating, or anything more than friends and one silly kiss in a weak moment hadn’t changed a thing. He was a nice guy who’d only offered to help me because I reminded him of his sister.

I left without another word and waited for the elevator. When it opened, I found a man waiting inside. He stepped aside and gave me a puzzled look, but I entered the elevator absolutely speechless. I knew him.

As the door closed me in, I turned and faced it trying to keep my cool.

“I’m sorry to pry, but it’s not every day I see a woman coming from that room who isn’t going down. Are you attending the party?”

“Yes, I’m a guest of James Thomas. And you’re Darek Dillon. I’ve seen your programs. ’Dream it. Believe it. Live it.’”

“That was the early days, but yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet a fan.” He held out his hand. “What’s your name?”

I took his hand. “Maya Benton. I’m staying with James.”

“You’re a southern girl. Your accent sounds like you’re from the New Orleans area, am I right?”

“That’s impressive. I’d guess you’re from South Carolina.”

His eyes lit with surprise.

“I read a story about you in the airport lobby on my way up.” I’d always thought the guy was a little cheesy, yet fascinating. Anyone who would work their way up the ladder of success like he had was an inspiration.

“Us Weekly or People?” he asked as the elevator came to a stop.

“People.” I was a little star-struck and surprised that he didn’t run off and leave me when the elevator doors opened.

“I guess you have to find Mr. Thomas.” He gave me a regretful look.

“Actually, no. He’s not coming. He has plans of his own, and I didn’t want to be stuck at home alone.”

“You two aren’t dating?” His eyes lit with surprise as a cool smile played around lips.

“No, we’re not together. I’m just a guest.”

“Well, I’m alone too, and I can introduce you to a few people here if you’d like.” A man approached and offered us some wine from a tray, and we both took a glass, and he quietly walked away.

“Whose place is this?” The posh furnishings made the place look like a palace, which was fitting since most of the people in attendance were in a class far above mine. “The invitation didn’t say.”

“No one knows, and I think finding out is the reason his parties are so popular.”

“How do you know that the ’he’” isn’t a ’she?’” I shrugged.

“You’re absolutely right; it very well could be.” He let loose a laugh and flashed his million-dollar smile. Then he took my hand and led me around to meet some of the other guests, but after a half-hour or so, we stepped aside and grabbed another drink.

After our third drink, we were becoming fast-friends and engaged in laughter over one of his stories, which any other time, I wouldn’t have found funny. My face felt hot, and I realized that I hadn’t drunk quite so much in some time. I knew I had better slow down when I realized he had his arm around me.

Darek was charming and handsome with a great body and chiseled features that had made women adore him, and men throw their money at him. Billions of people were mesmerized by him, and many wanted to be him. Any woman would have been happy to be receiving his attention, but there was just one thing wrong—he wasn’t James Thomas.