by Susan Meier
“Ricky and I went to a party last night.”
Tina’s face glowed with curiosity. “Another formal one?”
“Yep.”
“On a Thursday?”
“Rich people don’t need to keep the same schedule you and I do. I’m guessing if there’s a party on Thursday, they don’t work on Friday.”
Tina took the left at the hall that led to their office. “So while you’re here nursing a hangover, your date’s probably still in bed?”
“Yep.” But now that she thought about it, she doubted it. She’d never met anybody with the work ethic Ricky had. Plus, he had enough technology in his den that he could work in his pajamas. The thought made her laugh.
Tina narrowed her eyes at her. “So add a hangover to a silly laugh, and I’m guessing you had a really good time last night.”
She slipped into their office and over to her desk. “Yes. I had a good time.”
Tina sat and eyed Eloise. “Let’s see... What is it you aren’t telling me?” She tapped her index fingers on her cheeks. “You drank too much. You probably also danced a lot.” Her expression grew thoughtful. “But you’ve been doing that all along.” She considered that for another second, then her mouth fell open. “He kissed you good-night.”
Getting to work, Eloise examined the files list on her screen and said, “I wish.”
Tina gasped. She bounced from her chair and over to Eloise’s desk. “Your fake dating has turned into real dating!”
Eloise shook her head. “I said I wish. I didn’t say it happened.” And because of how happy dancing snuggled against him had made her feel, the realist in her had wept with sadness when he’d walked away from that kiss. A chance to bond. A chance to express that their feelings were changing. A chance to actually be themselves.
And he’d walked away from it.
“You really like him, don’t you?”
Eloise squeezed her eyes shut. Memories from the night before flooded her. The joy of simple human contact had morphed into happiness, which had shifted into an acknowledgment that she more than liked this guy. “Sometimes I think I might be falling in love with him.”
“Oh, honey!” Tina leaned her hip on Eloise’s desk. “It’s one thing to want to kiss and feel like you’re living a fairy tale with a rich guy. It’s another to start believing it’s real.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to get your heart broken. And this isn’t going to be like whatever heartbreak you had in college that drove you to New York City.”
Eloise frowned. “What makes you think getting my heart broken drove me to New York City?”
Rising from Eloise’s desk, Tina laughed. “The sad look that doesn’t often leave your eyes.”
“I have a sad look?”
“Sort of like a lost puppy.”
Her head swam. All this time she’d thought she was a rock of sanity, when she was giving off a sad look. “I look like a dog?”
“You look like somebody who needs a hug. You’re a sweet, wonderful person. If someone gets to know you and like you, it’s hard not to want to help you.”
“People want to help me?”
“Not everyone.” Tina returned to her desk and put her attention on her computer screen. “But it’s not easy to watch you struggle every day. It makes me want to do something nice for you. If only bring you a doughnut.”
She remembered the once-a-week doughnut Tina bought her and then thought of the conversation she’d had with Ricky before he’d suggested the shots. “Or tequila.”
Tina peered around her computer monitor at Eloise. “Tequila?”
She shook her head. “Never mind.” But mortification filled her. Ricky Langley had been seeing her “sad face” for weeks. And last night she’d been particularly sad. So, like Tina, he’d wanted to cheer her up. He wasn’t falling for her. That was why he hadn’t kissed her. He didn’t want to get romantic. He just wanted her to stop her sadness.
What an idiot she was! No wonder she couldn’t get a job. Her ability to read people and their actions was nonexistent. And people looked at her and saw sadness. Not competence. Not reliability. Sadness.
She had to fix that.
* * *
Ricky got up late with no sign of a hangover. Smug, he showered, congratulating himself for remembering to hydrate before going to bed. But even as he had the thought, he wondered if Eloise had drunk enough water—
His heart stuttered. Eloise. He’d damn near kissed her the night before. Just the memory of that almost kiss put the need in his blood again, tightened his chest. He’d desperately wanted to kiss her, but he’d risen above it.
Thank God. Because he wasn’t good for her. He lived in a world of guilt and sadness. He refused to bring her into that.
Norman arrived, and he got into the limo and tried to focus on that day’s meetings, but he failed. Even thoughts of Blake drifted away when memories of laughing with Eloise filled his head. The noisy way they climbed up her stairway. Those thirty seconds he could have kissed her—
He frowned. He might have risen above the temptations of last night, but what about the next time?
The “next time” he’d be tempted wasn’t a week away, time enough to shore up his defenses. Tonight they had another party. And he still had a tingle in his blood. A funny feeling that pressed into his heart every time he thought her name.
He groaned. She liked when he said her name. He liked saying her name. This was bad.
He entered the private elevator to his office suite.
He could handle the desire. That sweet need that nudged him to touch his lips to hers was a natural male urge. Especially with a woman as beautiful as Eloise. But that yearning to be held? The longing for connection that he’d nearly drowned in the night before? That was just wrong.
He didn’t need connections. He didn’t even want connections. Being alone was better for him. Then he didn’t worry about snarling at his employees or insulting his friends. Ever since he’d met Eloise, his entire life had kept getting confused. Even his work life.
He paused his thoughts. That was the real problem. She was drawing him back into the world again, as if he belonged there. She made him forget he had trouble in his life. But he did. He had troubles that wouldn’t go away with a wave of a magic wand. He couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist.
He scrubbed his hand across his mouth. If he were smart, he’d have David call Eloise and tell her that her services were no longer needed. But they had made a deal, and he hadn’t fulfilled his end of the bargain.
He couldn’t back out. True leaders never reneged on deals. That was how otherwise-smart business professionals got bad names. He had to take her to the party that night. And every night until he found her a job.
Which meant holding her and talking to her.
He scrubbed his hand across his mouth again. If there was one thing he hadn’t expected from this deal it was that he would like her. But, surely, he could get beyond that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THAT NIGHT ELOISE wore a black gown paired with bright silver jewelry.
Feeling awkward and wishing he’d called and canceled, Ricky said, “As always, you look amazing.”
She caught his gaze, her eyes searching his. He stood very still, very proper, under her scrutiny, hoping to make her believe it had been nothing but the tequila that had made him so affectionate the night before. That he didn’t really want to kiss her. That he didn’t really want anything from her except to finish their deal.
Eventually, she smiled slightly. “As always, you’re good for my ego.”
She handed him her cape, and, closing his eyes, he slid it on her shoulders, so relieved that she was handling this with grace and discretion that he couldn’t even put the feeling into words.
But
an unexpected urge hit him. His end of the deal was to help her find a job. Although that hadn’t yet panned out, he would see to it that it did. And it would cost him nothing but a little time and effort.
But she spent every darned Friday and Saturday night with him. Not to mention a Thursday and some Sundays. Buying her an evening jacket, a fur, something better than her worn cape, wouldn’t be out of line. To his bank account, it would be small token of appreciation. Just as going out with her had become difficult; going out with him couldn’t be easy either. Yet she handled it like a trooper.
“I was actually thrilled to find a way to wear this jewelry.”
Pulling himself out of his reverie, he realized they’d not only clattered down the four flights of stairs, but he’d missed a chunk of conversation. He opened the building door for her and she strolled outside.
“The jewelry looks nice with your dress.”
She laughed. “Good evening, Norman.”
He tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”
They climbed inside. “You don’t have to pretend you enjoy talking about jewelry.”
“I don’t mind.” But he was clueless.
“I just sometimes get carried away.” She sighed. “I love to dress up.” She winced. “That makes me sound like a kid. I don’t love to dress up as much as I love fashion. I love it when Olivia calls for advice.” She paused, faced him. “You do know Olivia and Tucker will be at tonight’s party.”
That woke him up. “Really?”
“Yes. She called this morning, then texted pictures of two gowns. She almost wore something brown until I talked her into a beautiful red Vera Wang.”
He struggled with a smile. He’d forgotten how goofy women could get about clothes. And tonight Eloise was particularly goofy, talking nonstop, as if she were trying to prove to him that she was fine. Happy. Not going to get hysterical on him because he wanted to pretend last night hadn’t happened.
Appreciating that, he kept the conversation going. “That’s a tragedy averted.”
She playfully nudged his arm. “All right. All right. I get it. You think talking about clothes is silly.”
Laughter bubbled through him. The kind he’d almost forgotten he existed. Teasing, we-don’t-have-to-be-normal, merriment. “Tucker once called and asked for advice about his tux.”
She laughed. “Stop.”
“I said, ‘Tucker, go with the bow tie.’”
She swatted him. “Stop!”
“He went with the regular tie and all night long everybody kept giving him funny looks.”
“Stop!”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
But to Eloise he didn’t look sorry. He looked happy. The way he had when they were drinking tequila the night before. Three shots and some champagne hadn’t nearly put him under the table as it had done to her. But it had certainly relaxed him. And it appeared his good mood wasn’t gone.
She blanched remembering how she’d all but asked for a good-night kiss, and she was glad he’d not only walked away, but also seemed to have totally forgotten that she stood there wide-eyed, her lips parted, her brain chanting a litany hoping he’d telepathically get the message that he should kiss her.
Now that she knew he didn’t like her—he only felt sorry for her—she absolutely wanted him to forget her begging for a kiss the night before. If it killed her, she intended to project happiness. No sad puppy-dog eyes, as Tina said. Just a normal woman at a party. With him still happy and with Olivia and Tucker around, that should be relatively easy.
As they got out of the limo at the Ritz, Ricky reached for her hand. His warm fingers wrapped around hers and her heart stumbled. All right, need-to-look-like-a-normal-woman aside, she desperately wanted to have another fun night. Another night when he was warm and natural. She would be alone on Christmas day. She needed good memories of these nights with him, nights when they laughed and had fun together, to think about when she played carols on her phone and tried not to remember she had no one in her life.
They met Tucker and Olivia in the lobby. Eloise hugged her pregnant friend, who, to a baby novice, felt extremely large around the middle. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Tucker said, “We couldn’t miss Fred Murphy’s party.”
His hand on the small of Olivia’s back, Tucker headed for the elevator to the ballroom, and Ricky leaned down and whispered, “He was the first banker to give Tucker money.”
She peeked up into his sleepy brown eyes, fighting the urge to believe his keeping her up-to-date with necessary information proved he liked her. Even though that might make her memories more interesting on Christmas Day, she didn’t want to get carried away. As Tina had said, that was how women got their hearts broken. She just wanted to have a good time. Something to think about on Christmas morning.
“So all this fuss is about a loan?”
He shook his head. “An investment.”
“Ah. Money he didn’t have to pay back.”
“Yes. But it was more the confidence he had in Tucker.”
“I get it.”
She and Ricky caught up to the Engles just as the elevator door opened. Eloise undid the buttons of her cape and Olivia gasped.
“So that’s what you did with that big black ball gown?”
She laughed. “Hard to believe this used to have eight layers of tulle, isn’t it?”
“It’s stunning. I should be coming to you for my gowns.”
“Oh, I don’t know. That Vera Wang suits you very well.”
Olivia glanced down at her red gown. “It is pretty.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
Olivia shook her head. “Yeah, and I’m glad you talked me into it. You have such a talent for this stuff.”
* * *
The discussion of gowns and sewing swirled around Ricky’s head, and he almost laughed again at the silly conversation he and Eloise had had in the car. When he was with her, something about her always made him smile, and that wasn’t good. When he was happy, he let his guard down and if he let his guard down too much, he’d kiss her. And if he started kissing her, he’d hurt her.
The opening of the elevator doors came as a grand relief, and they stepped out. Eloise handed Ricky her cape, and, as she turned, he saw the back of her dress.
Or lack thereof.
Walking to the coat check desk, he silently prayed for strength. She was making him laugh, forget himself and tease her. He was only human. With his attraction and sense of comfort with her, he kept inching closer and closer to the place where he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her. And tomorrow he’d regret it and pull back and probably hurt her.
He could not hurt her. No matter how hard he had to fight, he would do everything in his power to keep his distance.
Still, after dinner and the short, humorous awards ceremony Fred put on, he and Eloise were one of the first couples on the dance floor. Everyone knew he loved to dance, but, more than that, Tucker and Olivia were also here. As much as he wasn’t the kind to fool his close friends, the charade was well under way. Despite fighting feelings for Eloise, he couldn’t end their deal when he hadn’t found her a job. And he couldn’t tell his best friend that he wasn’t really dating his wife’s BFF, that it had been a bargain. They’d both look crazy.
So he pulled Eloise into his arms and she nestled against him. When her softness met his chest, he struggled with the desire to just close his eyes and enjoy.
He looked down. She looked up. Their gazes met in acknowledgment of the fact that their tequila night had brought them closer. But he didn’t want to be close. He wanted them to go back to being polite strangers who could pretend they liked each other.
So he pulled several inches away, putting enough space between them to retain his sanity. Still, every time they moved, his hand on the small
of her back slid against her satiny skin. He remembered the sparkle in her eyes at her apartment door last night. How she’d wanted him to kiss her. How he’d longed to do just that.
But he also remembered that he was grieving his son, filled with guilt and remorse over his death. She had troubles of her own. Neither one was in a position to indulge an attraction that might end up hurting them both.
He held himself stiffly for the first set and was relieved when the band took a break. Eloise chatted with Olivia about her clients and art in general, and he and Tucker bounced around ideas about the stock market.
When the second set began, he was a little too tired to hold himself away from her. When she melted, his body tried to resist, but it was no use. Her breasts met his chest. Their thighs brushed as they moved to the music. His hormones awoke like a band of angels ready to sing the “Hallelujah Chorus.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many diamonds in my life.”
Glad to get his mind off his hormones and also curious about where her mind had gone, he laughed. “Cumulatively or at this party?”
“It almost doesn’t matter.” She pulled back and looked at him. “Something odd has been striking me tonight.”
With the feeling of the velvet skin of her back pressed against his hand, something had been striking him all night, too. He’d love to run his hand down her back just once. Just for the thrill of it.
But talking about that wouldn’t do either one of them any good. So he smiled and politely said, “What’s that?”
“My mom doesn’t have a diamond necklace.”
He bit out a laugh. “What?”
“Look at all these necklaces. Or just think about the one around Olivia’s throat. Tucker adores his wife so he showers her with diamonds. That’s how wealthy men show their love.”
He smiled. “It is?”
“Sure. If you can’t say the words, you buy a gift. A necklace. A bracelet. A fur.”
His mouth twisted. He wanted to buy her a fur, but that didn’t mean he loved her. “It’s not always about love.”
“True. It could be about respect or appreciation. You know, a thanks-for-putting-up-with-me gift.”