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Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, and the ceiling seemed to stretch on forever.
The banquet tables, with their crystal stemware and lavish place settings, appeared more like something out of a fairy tale than a dining experience.
Notes from a live piano trio wafted through the air, soulful music that stirred something in me, and I turned and smiled at the pianists. One of the men tilted his head to me in an acknowledging nod. I couldn’t help but be captivated by the music. It was a stark contrast to the sounds of my everyday life, a reminder of the beauty and luxury that existed beyond my world.
The lighting was soft, and I looked past the Roman statues that dotted the circular lobby to Sean.
“Do you prefer a signature cocktail, or will champagne do?” he asked.
My mouth fell open a little, and I managed to shut it and simply nod like this was a normal question I got asked at the end of the day. Like I didn’t normally decide between a beer or a wine straight out of the bottle.
“Champagne, please,” I said and turned to see Lucas scanning the crowd.
“The seats are that way,” he said, looking down the short corridor to the open seats. “Do you mind if I go sit down now? I can’t wait for it to start.”
I nodded just as Sean came back to me in a minute, holding two flutes of amber liquid.
“Lucas has gone to our seats already,” I informed him as he handed one to me. “We’ll join him in a bit.”
“Good,” Sean said, standing by my side. “I feel like I need a minute alone with you.”
I blushed and regarded him. Back in the car, our flirting had seemed harmless. A response to his possessiveness over me, which had come across as endearing. No romantic partner had demanded my complete attention that way.
Now, in the dim lights, I could see his eyes burn as they took me in. And the best part was that I let myself enjoy it for once. I was tired of being the good girl. I licked my lips as his arm slid around my waist.
I took a sip of my champagne, feeling its sweetness down my throat while his gaze lingered on my lips.
“Did I tell you that since we first met in the café, I’ve thought of you often?” he murmured, pulling me closer.
The side of my hip met his upper thigh, and I angled my body to him, feeling heat radiate off him.
He did?
“What did you think about?” I asked, not breaking eye contact as I took another sip.
Sean kept running his fingers gently down my arm, and little tingles of anticipation ran through me. His eyes looked intense, and I felt very turned on.
“That instead of stealing your drink, I could have stolen you.”
His eyes searched my face while my cheeks flamed. The piano trio played Moonlight Sonata in the background, which was somehow both soothing and seductive.
It’s just the night, I told myself. The music, the dress, and the alcohol speaking.
Before we could go further, before Sean could lean in—which he very much looked like he was poised to do, right in the middle of the lobby—we were interrupted.
“Sean, is it not?” asked an older gentleman, looking stately and with a scotch in his hand. He extended his hand out as a glimmer of irritation crossed Sean’s face before he shook it. “I’m Ron Gellinger, the host of this event and owner of Faux Industries. Nice to see you here.”
Sean nodded, turning to me. “This is Chloe Nichols. She loves dance and was eager to support the art program.”
I nodded, feeling both shy and nervous as Mr. Gellinger acknowledged me with a small smile and a nod.
“Did you dance, Ms. Nichols?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Ballet,” I said, afraid I sounded like a gushing teenager. “I danced for ten years. An art scholarship in my school helped support my classes, and I’m glad you’re doing this. It means so much to the kids, more than we can ever know.”
His smile seemed more genuine, and he introduced his wife in a minute—a smaller, cheerier woman who I warmed up to in an instant.
And so the night went.