by M. S. Parker
But Aleena was on the phone on her desk, busily writing.
“Yes…yes.” She glanced up at me and then away. “I understand. I’ll be sure to give him the message, Ms. Rittenour.”
A moment later, she disconnected and then tore off the notepad. It bore the Winter Corporation logo and beneath it was Penelope’s name and phone number. She also gave me two more pieces of paper. “You had three calls, Mr. Snow.”
“Fuck them,” I said, grabbing the notes and wadding them up. “Let’s go out to lunch. Want to try Bouley’s?”
“I’m already eating.” She gestured at a small bar on her desk. “And I’m afraid neither of us will have time for much. One of the numbers you just threw away was Ms. Dudeck’s. She called. There’s been an emergency with the band. The lead singer woke up this morning with no voice. He has severe laryngitis and will be unable to perform.”
The apology I’d been trying to drag back up my throat died as I processed her words.
“You…” I fisted a hand in my hair and tugged. “Please tell me you’re saying this just to get back at me for being an asshole.”
“Of course not, sir. I’m simply passing on your messages as you hired me to do.”
“Aleena!” I wanted to grab her now, grab her and shake.
“Yes, Mr. Snow?”
“Dominic!” I snapped.
“I’m more comfortable calling you, Mr. Snow.” She turned back to her computer. “Ms. Dudeck is sending me a list of possible bands. We’re splitting it up. I should get to work making calls.”
Chapter 4
Aleena
Valentine’s Day was cold, bitterly cold.
I shivered as I cracked the door and glanced outside and then down at my dress.
Fawna and I had butted heads more than once during our shopping excursion last month and most of it had been over the formal dresses, but I had to admit, she’d been right.
Lately, I was coming to realize there was little of which Fawna wasn’t right.
Now, I wished she would have decided I needed some sort of formal overcoat or cloak and…penguin suit? Just what did a woman wear outside when it was freezing?
The wind was going to tear me to pieces. But I’d just have to suck it up. Easing the door shut, I hurried into the bedroom and checked my appearance one last time.
I’d been both dreading and anticipating this day. Now that it was here, I thought the dread was about to overtake me and I’d end up on my knees, puking my guts up.
Today wasn’t just Valentine’s Day and it wasn’t just kicking off the opening of Dominic’s match-making service.
Fawna’s last day had been yesterday and I was now, officially, Dominic Snow’s personal assistant. And officially, the two of us weren’t really talking.
Okay, there wasn’t really anything official about it, but things had been tense between us for the past week and a half, ever since that mess with the party planner. Fawna had told me that the original party planner had sort of fallen through—as in ended up in rehab. It was being kept quiet, but while Dominic had thought he could handle it on his own, Fawna had squashed that idea. The man has no idea what goes into planning a party of this magnitude. If he ever attempts to have you organize anything for more than fifteen people, put your foot down and say no. Get a party planner. I always did and if you’re firm, he’ll do it.
I would definitely be firm.
I’d had enough headaches just throwing birthday parties back at my dad’s old restaurant for groups of ten or twenty. People really don’t get how much work goes into that sort of thing—it’s a job in and of itself. I didn’t need another one on top of…well, Fawna had called herself Dominic’s babysitter and I was starting to understand why.
Not that I’d be dealing with Dominic much tonight. I’d be helping the household manager, Janice, while she stayed on top of the staff, and attending to a million other little things.
Dominic was simply here to shine.
But I still got to go to the ball.
Amused with myself, I studied my reflection.
One thing about my heritage, it had gifted me with excellent features. I might have hated them growing up, but I’d come to accept the light brown skin and the gold-streaked brown curls as I’d gotten older.
I’d selected a red dress—why not? It was Valentine’s Day, after all. It was a deep, seductive red, but the cut itself was almost conservative, ankle length with a slit up one side that went to just above my knee. It had cap sleeves and a modest neckline, although it still managed to make the most of my assets. The necklace I’d received from my grandmother hung around my neck, resting between my breasts.
I smoothed my hand down the skirt once more, smiling a little at the sight of my white opera gloves glowing against the red silk of the skirt.
“Okay, Cinderella,” I murmured. “It’s time to go.”
I wasn’t going to find Prince Charming tonight—and probably not any other night—but wasn’t half the fun of it just going to the ball?
I left my bedroom, turning off the lights as I went. I hadn’t quite made it to the door when I heard the knock. Frowning, I hurried to the door and checked the peephole, looking out to see Dominic waiting on the porch.
He was facing away, but I’d know him anywhere. Those golden curls, the set of his shoulders…
I opened the door. “Dom…” I corrected myself. “Mr. Snow.”
A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “May I come in?”
I hovered there. I didn’t really want him in my space. “Is everything okay? I was just leaving. I have to grab my bag—it has my phone. If I need to take care of something—”
“Damn it, Aleena, let me in,” he said, pushing past me.
The cold wind sliced into me and I closed the door, shivering as goosebumps broke out over my arms.
Turning to face him, I readied myself for whatever had gone wrong, but he had moved deeper into the house. I found him standing in front of the cold fireplace, staring down into it.
“I need to apologize to you.”
Stiffening, I turned away. My little purse, just big enough for my phone, lay on the counter. “Hardly necessary, Mr. Snow. You were right to criticize me as you felt my performance was lacking. Now, we really should be going—”
The rest of the words froze in my throat, then faded, as he brought his hands down on my shoulders. “Stop, Aleena. And for fuck’s sake, stop calling me, Mr. Snow.”
“Yes, sir.” Then I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes, sir…fuck me, sir…
Immediately, images of what I’d seen—Dominic bringing the flat of his hand down on Maya’s ass, Dominic driving his cock into her waiting body. Yes, sir…fuck me, sir…
“Aleena…” My name sounded terribly loud on his lips.
I pulled away from him. Needing room, I strode into the kitchen and pulled down a glass from the counter. After filling it with water, I took a slow, careful sip. “Mr. Snow—” I began.
“Dominic!”
I slammed the glass down with so much force, it was a wonder it didn’t break.
“I’m your employee!” I said quietly, forcing myself not to snarl. “I’m not your slave, your toy, a thing, or an idiot. And for the record, this is my home—while I’m in your employ. It’s my legal residence, which means you don’t get to come barging in. I’d appreciate some modicum of respect.”
He went to say something and I jerked up my hand, cutting him off. “Please, let me finish. I realize I’m only your employee, but surely even employees are worth that much courtesy.”
“Surely.” His tone was remote, the angle of his head austere.
It was enough to send a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t tell if it was nerves…or something else. Forcing myself to continue, I folded my hands in front of me. “You want to flirt with a woman to get her to do what you want, that is fine…Mr. Snow. To my recollection, I don’t think I made any sort of comment or laughed or did anything unprofessional. However, I did something that dis
pleased you. I’m trying to stay professional so I keep my job. Now, either fire me or tell me what I did, but would you please stop going from one extreme to the other because you are giving me whiplash!”
He stood in front of me, his face like stone, the only sign of life was the flicker in his eyes. “Are you done?”
I reached for the water and took a sip. I’d splashed some of it on my gloves. I could see the faint little marks on the silk left by the water. I took another sip and then sent him a cool look. “I’m done.”
“Good.” He took another step toward me. “I’m sorry. I was…” He looked away, staring at the counter over my head for a long moment. Finally, he looked back at me, his eyes solemn. “You’re right. This is your home and I shouldn’t have forced my way in, so I also owe you an apology for that. I’m sorry. About the matter with the party planner, I was letting a personal issue get in the way and I took it out on you and Fawna. Sometimes, I can be an ass. I have no intention of firing you. You clearly have no problems recognizing when I’m being an ass—you’ve seen it this past week and you’ve behaved admirably. You actually should have just told me I was being an ass.”
Sniffing, I looked away. “You’re my employer. That’s not my place.”
“I’m making it your place.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach up. I tried to brace myself for his touch, but it was impossible.
He trailed his hand down my arm, his fingers grazing my skin. “I’m sorry.”
That light touch sent a shiver down my spine. I edged away and rubbed at my arms, pretending to shiver again.
“You’re cold.”
“It’s cold outside,” I replied.
“I…yes.” He sighed.
The sound was…strangely desolate. Empty, somehow. I slid him a look and saw that he was looking at something. I followed his gaze. He noticed and held up the item in his hand.
It was a mask.
“It’s for you, Ms. Davison.” His tone was formal.
I’m going to regret this, I thought. “Aleena,” I said quietly as I held out my hand for the mask.
He studied me and then moved behind me. “If I may?”
“Why do I need this?” I asked as he lifted the mask and settled it into place.
“It’s a masquerade…Aleena.” His voice was rougher than normal and I closed my eyes, swallowing around the ache that came to my throat.
This was torture. I was starting to think I’d be better off if he did fire me.
“But I’m just helping…”
He turned me around and studied me, lifting my chin to angle my head back.
“Come.” He held out his arm. “It’s almost time for the ball.”
“I…um.” I cleared my throat and backed away. “I need to get my coat.”
***
I didn’t take his arm.
I don’t know if he noticed—or cared—but he held the door for me and we walked side by side toward the house.
“There’s somebody I wanted you to meet before the ball starts,” he said as we neared the house. He gave me a look that was decidedly grimmer than it had been a few moments earlier. “Ah…you’ve talked to her a few times…”
The door swung open before he could finish and I glanced up and then grinned.
“Max!” I climbed the steps and caught the older man around the neck, hugging him. “Don’t you look handsome?”
Maxwell had become my regular driver, but I hadn’t expected to see him today. He was clad in a tuxedo rather than his normal suit tie and when he saw me, his face lit up. “Miss Aleena. You looked positively lovely.” Then he paused, arching a brow. “That is you, isn’t it?”
I laughed. “No. It’s Cinderella, silly.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. I’ll keep an eye out for pumpkins and missing shoes.”
“Do shut that door,” a cool, cultured voice said. “It’s freezing out there.”
I turned and found myself facing the very picture of American aristocracy. If such a thing existed…did it?
She looked to be in her early fifties, or perhaps later forties, although I was learning to pick up on the subtle signs of excellent plastic surgery. She was probably in her sixties, but she was absolutely lovely, regardless. Her hair was dark, swept up in an elegant style. As a matter of fact, almost everything about her was elegant.
She stared at me with an arched expression on her face. Somehow, I didn’t think introductions were necessary.
Not for me anyway.
“Aleena Davison, this is my mother, Jacqueline St. James-Snow.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I extended a hand.
She accepted, although I had a feeling it was more out of politeness and obligation. After a light press of her palm to mine, she took her hand back.
“You’re replacing Fawna?”
I felt more than saw Dominic stiffen. I gave his mother a polite smile. “No one can replace Fawna. The best I can do is hope to rise to the standard she set.”
“Of course.” She inclined her head and then turned to Dominic. “I should go out and check the arrangements, make sure your staff has everything under control, Dominic.”
“That’s Aleena’s job, Mom,” Dominic said. He glanced at me. “She’s perfectly capable of handling it herself. Besides, I want you here with me.”
“Of course.” I gave them both a polite nod. “Mr. Snow. Mrs. St. James-Snow.”
As I walked away, I wondered just what he meant by that. It seemed like their relationship was strained at best, but maybe he just didn’t want her wandering around by herself.
I focused on work, heading toward the front of the house. There was a ballroom, small but elegant. In addition to that ballroom, the living room and library had been cleared of furniture, while an elegant buffet had been set up in the formal dining room. There were other public areas as well, a large den, several sitting areas, the oversized foyer and a music room.
I’d wondered if he could possibly fill this huge house, but just the catering staff alone had me shutting down that line of thought. The RSVPs had been flooding in, so my newest worry was where we might put all the people who were going to show.
When the guests began to arrive, everything was ready. Fawna was there.
She didn’t work for Dominic anymore, but she’d made this one exception.
“My going away party,” she told me, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. She asked me if I wanted one and I shook my head.
“You can relax a little,” she said. “It’s going beautifully.”
“I can’t drink and work.” I shrugged. “I’m a lightweight. You should, though. This is one heck of a going away party.”
“Yes.” Fawna heaved out a sigh and I don’t think it was my imagination that it seemed a little sad. “It certainly is.”
Dominic’s laugh rang out over the low roar and we both looked up, following the sound. The sadness in her gaze deepened.
Reaching out, I touched her arm. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I know.” She gave me a smile that just ripped at my heart. “He’s…Dominic is like the son I never had, Aleena. This hurts.”
Then she nudged me between the shoulder blades. “Now, you, pretty young thing, go out there. Dance a little. Live it up.”
“I…” I gaped out at the crowd and looked back at her. “I can’t!”
“You can.” She gave me a sage nod. “Call it a break.”
I went to argue and she gave me what I’d come to call her schoolteacher look.
There was no arguing with that. And I knew it.
***
It was the mask, I decided.
Wearing the mask made it so much easier to move among these people.
I’d been watching how everybody acting—not just tonight, but over the past three weeks. I put it into practice now, how they spoke and moved, their mannerisms.
But not their actions.
Maybe I’d pull a chameleon and pretend to f
it in. I’d been doing that all my life, but I would never be one of these people who smiled at your face and then cut you off the moment your back was turned.
Still, when a man caught my eye and then my hand and proceeded to flirt with me, I was more than a little surprised, then…delighted. I started to smile, then flirt back.
The mask was surprisingly freeing.
Nobody here knew who I was, just a girl from small-town Iowa. They saw a woman in a lovely dress who moved with confidence and poise.
Fake it until you make it, I told myself.
“May I have this dance?”
I glanced up to meet a pair of dark eyes, hidden behind a mask of ivory silk. It glowed against deep brown skin and I felt my lips bowing up in a smile. I almost said yes. It would have been nice, I thought, to see what it was like, to spin across a floor in the arms of a man who found me attractive.
Back home, I’d been the oddball, the geek…the freak. Ugly fat whore had come up once or twice, too, after my one, miserable attempt at dating. Yeah, that hadn’t gone well.
But as he stood there waiting, his hand outstretched and a smile on his handsome face, I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Another time,” he murmured and then retreated into the crowds.
“I think you might have broken his heart,” Dominic said.
“I…”
I licked my lips and went to step aside.
But he caught me around the waist and then lifted my hand. “Fawna sent me to dance with you.” The music began to play and my breath caught as he dipped his head to murmur in my ear, “Do you know how to waltz?”
“I…ah, yes.” I managed a weak smile. “My mom and dad loved to go ballroom dancing, so they taught me. It’s been a very long time, though. I was just a kid.”
“Just follow me.”
“You can find a better partner.”
“No.” He drew me in closer and the shock of his body so close to mine was almost more than I could handle. “I couldn’t. Besides…I’m following orders. And you’re following me.”
We started to move and it wasn’t long before the familiarity of the moves came back to me. I’d never confess it to anybody, but Dad and I used to waltz around the basement. I’d loved dancing and thought, maybe, for a while, I’d pursue it, but it hadn’t ever happened.