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“Sure,” she says.
I hope the bubbles will help ease the tension.
I pour two glasses and hand her one. She takes a sip, my mouth drawn to the rosy shade of lipstick painted on her perfect lips. I want to kiss them again. I want to bring her back to my place. I’ve tried to deny these feelings, but sitting here now, breathing her in as she sits here looking absolutely delectable, there’s no denying how badly I want her.
She catches me looking at her and clears her throat nervously.
“Is there anything you’d like me to focus on tonight?” she asks.
I look at her confused.
“For my column…”
“Oh, just coverage of the whole event is fine. Who is there. The speeches. Quotes from the who’s who of New York. Anything you’d like.”
She nods and takes another sip of champagne. I down mine, realizing this night is going to be torture standing next to her and knowing I can’t have her. Maybe this was a bad idea.
It’s even more torturous as we enter the event, and all eyes are on Erica. Men’s eyes follow her as she walks into the room. It’s as if the fresh flowers hanging from the ceiling and the chandeliers dripping in crystal roses don’t exist in her presence. I’m jealous of anyone who looks at her, and there’s nothing I can do to evenpretend she’s mine. My hand wants to cradle her lower back as we walk through the party, but I keep it held tightly in my pocket.
She stays next to me for most of the night as I make my rounds, talking business and about my latest acquisition. She keeps up with my conversations, her wit and intelligence only making her more desirable to me and the men I’m talking to. I see her every so often jot down notes in a notebook she has in her small purse. I smile, watching her focus as she does so. Always so serious about her work. I love that about her.
Toward the end of the night, she excuses herself to talk to a few acquaintances she says she knows through her father. I watch her go before finding a cocktail table to settle in at. I spot Jacob across the room and he makes his way over with two amber-colored drinks. He hands me one and follows my gaze toward Erica, who is laughing about something as she talks to another woman across the room. I wish I could hear her laugh again. I wish I could be the one who made her laugh.
“Who is she?” asks Jacob curiously.
“She works for me.”
“Is that all?” he chides.
“She’s been helping me with the acquisition.”
“She must be doing an incredible job for you to look at her like that.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t blame you. Every man in here has been sneaking glances her way, butyou,my friend…you have it bad for her.”
I take another sip of my drink, trying to ignore him, even though he’s right. I can’t help the way I look at her or what I feel when I’m around her. I’m not myself. I’m nervous and jumbled. I’m jealous as hell. I can’t seem to think straight when she’s next to me or when she’s across the room now in that dress. I want her so badly, and this pining stays with me until we leave the event and get back in the limo that signifies our night is almost over. My time is almost up.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say, looking at her, the lights of passing cars bouncing off her perfect face. I just want her toseeme, to look at me like she doesn’t hate me.
“It was a beautiful event,” she says, her eyes remaining locked on the window, watching the city go by.
“You’rebeautiful,” I say softly, brushing a tendril of her hair back so I can see her face.
She turns to look at me and I can’t help it. She’s right here and so close. I lean in and watch as her eyes flutter closed. I feel her breath hitch against my lips, but before I can feel them against my own, she quickly puts her hands to my chest and pushes me away. I look at her confused.
“This can’t happen,” she says, shaking her head. She looks like she might cry or curse me out. I don’t know what happened. We both felt something just now. Didn’t we? But she looks so upset that maybe I imagined it.
“Driver, let me out here!” she says loudly.
“Erica!” I say, trying to stop her. We are nowhere near her apartment.
“Don’t!” she says shrilly, pointing at me to stay where I am as the limo stops.
She clambers toward the door, pulling her dress behind her as she steps out onto the sidewalk, slamming the door behind her. I know stopping her is futile, but it’s late and I wait in the limo to make sure she gets in a cab.
I watch as she drives away, wondering if I just blew it.