To pass the time, I turned on the radio and found my favorite station.
I was humming along to the words of an Ed Sheeran song when a blood-covered face smashed into my window. I screamed and Charlotte ripped off her mask squealing with laughter.
I lowered the window.
“Oh my God, you are so easy to scare.”
“Don’t do that,” I yelled. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Better now, than when you see what I picked out for you. Oh this is gonna be fantastic. I can hardly wait!”
“Oh God.”
Chapter Six
Abigail
The night of the party came faster than I thought it would. I’d thought I’d have time to gather my strength so to speak, but I’d no sooner agreed to go, than the event was upon us.
Charlotte, after telling me this was a girls’ night out and we didn’t need men in our lives, had been badgering me all week about taking a date instead of her to the party. I refused, although I agreed I could get ready at her apartment so we could ride over together.
I stared into the floor-length glass mirror for the last and final time, smiling at my reflection. My boobs looked amazing, more round and perky than they actually were, and the push up bra gave me spectacular cleavage. Top that off with the auburn waves I‘d added to my hair, and this sexy, red dress and I were ready for some action.
Chase, eat your heart out. Nothing is going to ruin this night for me.
After puckering my lips a few times in the mirror while pretending I was a movie star, my phone pinged. Figures. Charlotte texted that she was running late at work and would meet me at the party.
Abby: You fucking kidding me?
Charlotte: It will be fine.
Abby: You did this on purpose. What the hell could distract you from your duties? No one is there!
Charlotte: I’m not feeling well.
Abby: Yeah, right. I’ll see you at the party then.
I glanced in her closet and noticed her costume wasn’t in it. “You better be there,” I said to the phone but didn’t type back. I took a deep breath, determined that tonight would go well. It had to. I just needed to think positive.
I felt like Cinderella but without the tasteful ball gown and glass slippers, although wearing clear six-inch stilettos may have given me that illusion. I didn’t don the mask yet, but I had so much makeup on anyway—I was a little paranoid about losing the mask—I knew no one would recognize me. I hardly recognized myself and I liked it. A lot. The scared little girl from Nebraska was gone. So was the teary-eyed woman who had her heart ripped to shreds.
“I refuse to think about him today,” I told the yellow tabby called Tiger purring by my feet. The cat looked at me strangely, and then flipped up his tail.
“How is it that you know who I am? I hope it’s just because you saw me put this whole getup on. What do you think? Am I slutty enough to make Chase’s tongue hang out? He should really see what he’s missing.”
The cat purred.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
I did feel like a call girl. The dress hugged me like a body stocking, accenting my soft curves with crisscrossed laces over the bare skin of my cleavage. It was sexy and rough, not something I would ever wear in public, or around people I knew, but tonight was all about fantasy. At least, it was for me.
Smoothing the red filmy fabric over my tummy—which was completely firm thanks to Jane Fonda workouts—and long slender legs, I turned to make sure the barely there dress didn’t split at the seams if I bent over. It didn’t tear, but it certainly gave a nice view of my crotch-less panties, something Charlotte had dared me to wear. “I am not going to sleep with anyone,” I’d told her.
“No, but I might, okay? And you’re the one who insisted on dressing similar. Besides, those slutty undies will make you feel sexier. You need to feel like a woman, Abby.”
She hadn’t been wrong. I so missed feeling appreciated in that way.
Grabbing my matching sequined clutch, I started down the stairs, my hands white-knuckled on the railing so I wouldn’t trip in these impossibly high shoes. “If I get through this night without spraining my ankle, it will be a miracle,” I told the cat.
As I reached the bottom step, I realized the limo had already arrived. I stuck my head out, put up a finger, and ducked back in the house, my heart racing so fast I almost thought about changing. Everyone I knew would be at this party. We were almost like a family. What we they think if they knew it was me in this sleazy getup?
You can do this. It’s just like going trick or treating.
Gathering my courage, I peeked out the side window, wondering what the limo driver looked like, and then noticed something odd. Before I could decipher the thought however, a text message popped up on my cell.
It was Charlotte. Again.
I glanced out the window again as Tiger jumped up on the back of the couch.
“Why is she texting me from the limo?”
I stared down at my phone.
Charlotte: Very sick. Like at death’s door sick. I’m soooooo sorry!! Please don’t be mad at me.
Abby: You could have let me know before I put on this ridiculous outfit!!!
Charlotte: You should still go.
Abby: No.
Charlotte: You have to.
Abby: I don’t want to go alone. Bad enough he’ll be there. There’s only so much bravery you can expect from a woman dressed like this.
Charlotte: You won’t be going alone.
“What the hell...!”
I pulled back the curtain, snuck another peek at the limo and then pulled back. I could just make out a dark head in the back seat. “Shit. It is! She set me up with someone.” I threw the phone across the room, furious.
Then, I started pacing the floor. No way in hell was I bringing a date to the company Christmas party. Not when Chase was there. Talk about rubbing salt in an open wound. He’d said he still loved me. Of course, it was in the heat of the moment, and he did have a healthy sex drive so maybe those were hormones talking. Did that really make a difference in the scheme of things though? We were divorced. Didn’t we both have to move on no matter how much it hurt? It was probably going to hurt more before it ever got better. I needed to realize that. Besides, this just may be my second chance at love. I doubted it, but one never knew what opportunities were waiting.
I pulled the strap up on one of my stilettos, checked my teeth in the mirror for smeared lipstick, and slung the black velvet cape I’d bought at the last minute over my shoulders. I put on my mask and grabbed my purse. “Well, here’s to second chances,” I told Tiger as she purred around my legs for the second time today. “I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
THE CHAUFFEUR OPENED the back door for me and then handed me a cell phone. “It’s a burner,” he said while tipping his hat. “The gentleman would like to correspond via text message. He has a bit of...” The older man cleared his throat. “Laryngitis.”
Oh great! Seems Charlotte isn’t the only one who is sick. Oh well, at least I won’t be tempted to sleep with the guy.
He had a mask on as well. It concealed all but his full masculine lips and he was dressed like the Phantom of the Opera.
My phone pinged in my hand making me jump.
I read the message.
Mystery man: You look gorgeous.
Abby: Thanks
Mystery man: I hope this is okay. I can barely speak but I’m not contagious.
Abby: That’s good.
Mystery man: Doctor said I’m not contagious.
Abby: You said that.
Mystery man: Just want to put your mind at ease.
Abby: No need to explain. I believe you.
Mystery man: Good and thank you.
I was a little nervous but something about this guy felt familiar, which made no sense at all. All I could tell from his appearance was he was well-built, had large hands, and a shock of dark wavy hair, but that could have been colored.
/> Mystery man: You ready for this?
Abby: Ready as I’m ever going to be.
So far, this conversation was going nowhere. I was dreading a very long night.
Mystery man: Would be good if we told each other our names. You don’t have to give me your actual name, make one up if you want. I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.
Giving a factious name sounded like an excellent idea.
Abby: Cinderella
Steve: Cinderella? Like in the fairy tale.
Abby: Yeah, but this time the prince is my slave.
Steve: Oh yeah? Lol
Abby: Got a problem with that?
Steve: Nope. Consider me your slave for the night.
Abby: You have no idea what you’re asking.
Steve: lol. I’d like to let someone else be in charge for a change.
Abby: Now that would be a first.
Steve: Come again.
Abby: My being in charge. My life seems a little out of control right now.
Steve: Why?
I had to take a minute before responding. I wasn’t sure how much of myself I wanted to divulge to this perfect stranger, but something inside was clamoring to get out and he seemed...gentle. Kind even. Almost safe. Probably because of the whole pretending thing.
Abby: I’m at the beginning of a divorce.
My heart sank as I uttered those final words and then Steve placed his hand in mine. It was a tiny gesture, not romantic or the act of someone who wanted to get in my panties. The warmth of his fingers calmed me though.
Steve: I am too. I still love her, I’m sorry.
Abby: Don’t be. I still love my Ex too.
Steve: You do?
Steve: Yeah but he’s an asshole.
Steve: lol. Okay.
Abby: I almost didn’t come tonight.
Steve: Why is that?
Abby: Because of the CEO.
Steve: You mean Chase Remington?
Abby: Yup. I heard he wasn’t coming tonight, but I’m not surprised either. He doesn’t actually care about his employees. If he did he would come.
Steve: What do you mean?
Abby: The guy eats, drinks, and sleeps work. I’m not surprised his wife divorced his ass.
Steve: Wow. You really have a low opinion of the guy.
Abby: Just your average rich asshole who would rather suck his own dick than have a lasting relationship where he actually had to care about someone.
I could see he was bursting at the seams as his hand covered his mouth. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t text his response for several minutes.
Steve: LMAO Okay, if you say so. Let’s not ruin our evening by talking about any other men or women. There’s just you and me tonight. No one else. Deal?
Abby: Yes. I’d love that!
THE ROOM RENTED FOR our Christmas party at the Strathallan Hotel was exotic and not what I expected. At the same time, the flies buzzing around my stomach at seeing Chase—just in case he changed his mind and showed up—possibly with another woman—had transformed into raging yellow jackets jabbing at my ribs.
What the hell had I been thinking? That I would heal faster if I saw lipstick on his collar or some bimbo hanging all over him? Naturally, being as rich and handsome as he was, he could have his pick of almost any woman on the planet. Why had I thought he’d be alone tonight? Simply because we fucked a few days ago?
Suddenly I felt—no I knew—my coming here was not in my best interest. Why had I let Charlotte talk me into it, again? I considered pretending I needed the ladies room and then calling a cab to take me home until my date—possibly sensing my apprehension—patted my arm and whispered in my ear. “We’re the only ones here, Cinderella. Remember that.”
That voice. It sounded scratch and breathy, but somehow it was just what I needed to hear. I nodded and his arms swept around my shoulder, unclipped the clasp below my neck and swept off my cape. He draped it along his arm and held out his other arm.
As we walked into the music filled room, I scanned the surroundings. Half hoping to discover the whereabouts of my ex-husband and half praying I wouldn’t. I didn’t see him. So far so good.
The room was filled with people. Half standing around the full-length bar, while the rest were seated. There were Christmas lights everywhere and the pillars were covered in red and white candy canes. A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne flutes. Steve snatched one, and gave one to me.
I took the phone out of my purse.
Abby: Just this one. Champagne really puts me under if I drink too much. Not sure why. I can drink other stuff, but for some reason champagne is a kicker.
Steve: Huh? No kidding.
I had no idea why he seemed so surprised by that, but I dismissed the thought as quickly as I had it.
Abby: But I really like champagne!!And it is a party, right?
Steve: As long as you don’t think I’m only getting you drunk for sex.
Abby: What if that’s exactly what I want?
He took a few long minutes in answering so I figured I’d crossed some sort of barrier. What was wrong with me? The guy was still in love with his wife. Did I have no shame?
Abby: It’s okay. We’ll take it slow. No expectations.
Steve: No expectations.
Once I was finally at peace with knowing Chase was indeed absent from the room, I looked around. The walls were covered in glittery white paper, which gave the illusion of a snowy day, but I didn’t see the traditional Christmas tree we usually had at parties. Nope. I saw fifty trees! Scattered all around the perimeters of the room. Decorated with clear, crystal lights strewn with silver garlands, and blue, pink, and white balls, the white ones having the company logo on them, and each tree was upside down, suspended from the ceiling. The effect was nothing short of spectacular.
Abby: It’s lovely, don’t you think?
Steve: Even prettier than last year’s.
Abby: Have you worked here long?
Steve: You could say that.
Abby: And what department did you say...”
Steve: Oh. I’m from out of town. The Pittsburg office.
With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me toward the only table for two in the whole room. Three crystal candleholders with liquid red candles perched in the center of the table and our dinnerware was bone china. The rest of the tables were not as elegant.
Abby: You did all this?
Steve nodded.
So romantic.
Shocks of adrenaline shot up and down my spine. I’d never been a girl for jumping into bed with someone I hardly knew, but tonight I had to remind myself I was someone else. I was Cinderella. Of course, judging by his hesitation, perhaps he wasn’t as attracted to me as I was to him. He might even be gay!
Wouldn’t that just be my luck?
For the rest of the evening, I decided to take it slow. It was great that we had a private table. It was far enough from the band, nestled between two of the trees that made it seem like our own personal oasis. I found myself hanging on his every word. Literally, since most of our conversation was through our phones. At one point he tried to talk to me but the noise was such that I couldn’t make out a single word so we went back to our burners.
He didn’t want to talk about his personal life and neither did I, so we talked about Yankees, the fact that he loved children, and a huge shaggy sheepdog he hoped to one day have, when and if, he ever slowed down from his work, he told me. Another workaholic? Maybe this guy wasn’t that perfect after all.
I told him I wanted all of that too, but I loved my job at Remington’s as well, even though I hated the CEO. That part was a lie, but I didn’t want him to put two and two together. It was bad enough everyone knew about my divorce. I didn’t need people gossiping about my slutty outfit and the fact I showed up at the company party with someone other than Chase. To top that off, I’d caught Zachary Taylor, Chase’s best friend and the biggest player I’ve ever met, staring in this direction from the bar.
Maybe I’d imagined that, but if he knew who I was, it would be all over. He’d tell Chase in an instant. My mouth went dry.
After dancing several waltzes, eating crab legs and prime rib, and listening to the stand-up comedian who had us rolling in laughter, my phone pinged on the table where I set it.
Steve: Wanna stop somewhere for a drink?
Abby: Okay.
Steve finished the Manhattan he’d been nursing for the last hour, dabbed his sexy lips with a napkin, and picked up his phone.
Steve: Let’s go, Cinderella, before you turn into a pumpkin.
I downed the last drops in my fourth champagne flute, grabbed my purse, and then turned around so Steve could drape me in black velvet. I felt giddy and extremely happy. I’d come here tonight thinking there was no way I could get over Chase in just a single date, and though I knew the champagne had a lot to do with it, I felt there was something more between Steve, or whoever his name was, and I. Was that crazy? Was it real? Who knows. I was just going with the flow right now.
The minute the door closed behind us in the limo, Steve filled my empty glass of champagne and my mind began to work. How was it that I’d had so much fun with another man, that I was actually wondering if he’d agree to see me after tonight? At the same time, a lump formed in my throat. What had happened to Chase? Was he sick? Had he been in an accident? Or did he just decide to blow off the party for the first time in his career? And why did I care?
Snap out of it, girlfriend. You’re Cinderella. Remember? Not some heartsick ex-wife who can’t let go of the past!
Inside the limo, I let my hand drop to one thigh as my gaze traveled down his firm muscular torso. Yes! He wanted me too. That much was evident by the bulge between his legs.
Got some trouble in your shorts? I typed.
Steve: They’re a bit tight. Yeah. Wanna relieve the pressure, Cinderella?
I giggled. Gravitating toward Steve’s heat, I realized he probably needed this as much as I did. To get over his ex-wife, that is. Maybe it would be a one-night stand for both of us. I just didn’t care what the reason was right now.
The Christmas Secret Page 3