He takes a step closer, places his hand on my cheek, and says, “I’m glad you came.”
When his lips meet mine, I breathe in the normalcy I felt when we were in Connecticut and fall into his touch once again.
My mouth is pursed, ready for more of his kiss, but he pulls away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says as he steps back and rounds the car to the driver’s side.
“Bye.” I wave as I head into my place, rubbing my head, still unsure of what we are.
The only negative about working for a media company is that television doesn’t take a holiday, so neither do we. Three days after Christmas, I’m back in the saddle, working on my daily report.
“Morning, Katherine.” Branson enters the office, wearing a herringbone suit and his dazzling smile. He even has on a silk tie and matching handkerchief, the one he usually reserves for special occasions.
“You’re looking extra dapper today,” I respond, handing him a printout of his schedule for the day.
He pauses by my desk and takes a deep breath. “I was hoping you’d say so. I woke up this morning and felt like putting on a little something special today.” He motions toward his office. “Join me for a second.”
I stand, and he ushers me to walk in front of him.
I wait by his desk and watch as he hangs up his coat before taking his seat in his large leather chair. I have my notepad in hand, ready to get to work on whatever he has for me today.
“Put that down for a bit. I want to ask you something.” He motions toward the guest chair. “Have a seat.”
I do so and place the pad on my lap. “Okay, shoot.”
“The event I’m going to on New Year’s Eve, the one you graciously emailed me the details of last night, I was thinking it over, and I have a splendid idea. I’d like for you to join me.”
My heart skips a beat. A formal gala at the Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Center with the glistening lights of the city below and the magic of New York City during the holidays while drinking champagne—it’s quite possibly the best way I can imagine spending New Year’s Eve.
“Join you? This isn’t a work event. Well, okay, it kind of is, as it’s hosted by the American Media Council, but it’s not something you need an assistant for.”
He leans his elbows on the desk and steeples his hands. “I want you to come as my plus-one.”
“I’m sorry. You want me to—”
“Come, so I can introduce you to the who’s who of the media world,” he says in a booming voice, his arms raised out, as if this is the invitation to end all invitations. “I think it’s time we start working on your next step here with Empire Media. This will be the perfect event to do so. You can’t be my assistant forever. It’s time you start getting ready to take a role in market strategy. There will be many people there you’ll only benefit from knowing as you assume your new position with this company.”
My hand flies to my mouth as I try to hide my smile. “You really think I’m ready?”
“You have that presentation coming up. After which, I’d be a fool to keep you strapped to your desk. Not when every producer in the building will be eyeing you to come work for their show. I’m a smart man and a greedy one. I want you to move up, and that all starts with the New Year’s Eve soiree. What do you say?”
My eyes widen as I take in this enormous opportunity. People at my level of the industry are never invited. Shoot, even Hunter wasn’t invited.
“Oh, um, well, yes. Of course I’ll be there.” I smile brightly, excited for the chance.
“Wonderful.” He sits up and reaches for his wallet in his coat pocket. “I want to treat you to more than the spa day I already got you for your holiday bonus. I have my card on file at Saks Fifth Avenue. Give Jasmine a call; she’s expecting you. Pick out a dress for the evening; it’s black tie, as you know.” He grins playfully because I have black tie written in all caps at three different locations on his calendar, so he doesn’t miss it.
I hold up my hand in protest at his offer. “No, Branson, I can’t let you pay for my dress. I have something I can wear.” It’s actually a lie. I have absolutely nothing to wear, and I spent my last paycheck on an overpriced green dress.
“Please.” He hands me Jasmine’s business card again. “I insist. You’ve been so great to me. It’s time I repay the favor and help you in ways you’ve helped me. Plus, this is entirely too much to ask for you to pay for a dress to an event that has a mandatory black-tie dress code.”
I reluctantly grab the card and look at the engraved lettering. They say it’s not about what you know, but who you know. This event is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone in my position. Being dressed to impress is in my best interest. “Okay, thank you.”
“I should be thanking you, love.” Branson rises, and I follow.
His arms are out, and as he walks around the desk, I see he wants to give me a hug. He’s never done this before. Then again, he’s never asked me to go to a gala with him before either. I walk into his arms and momentarily find myself lost in the scent of peppermint.
There’s a knock on the door, and when I turn, I see Hunter with a confused yet stoic expression covering his face.
I pull away from Branson and quickly put my hands to the sides. Branson, however, keeps an arm around my shoulders.
“Hunter, come in,” he calls out.
“You wanted to see me?” Hunter asks Branson, holding up his phone, like he just got an email. His gaze, however, is focused on me and Branson’s arm on my shoulders. “Good morning, Katie.”
“Hi,” I say shyly, for no other reason than it feels great to see him again. I haven’t heard from him since he dropped me off at my apartment.
Hunter doesn’t say anything else, but the way his eyes are burning a hole in Branson’s hand on me says enough.
“I’ll leave you two,” I say, moving out of Branson’s arm. “Can I get you anything?”
“Yes. Coffee, please,” Branson says as Hunter shakes his head in decline.
I brush my knuckle against Hunter’s as I walk to the door. He doesn’t make a move back, which is surprising. Last week, he kissed me in front of Branson when we were just friends. Now, we’ve slept together, and he won’t even touch my hand.
I bow out to get the coffee.
Iris and Janice are in the break room, chatting away about Lord knows what. I excuse my way past them to get a to-go cup.
“Katie, what’s this I hear about you and Hunter being a thing?” Janice asks in a very gossipy sort of way.
I cringe inwardly, hating being the topic of office rumors. I don’t say anything as I spin and raise my eyebrows to them in question.
Janice rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. Everyone knows.”
Being that our boss knows, I suppose it shouldn’t shock me. I close my eyes briefly and raise a shoulder. “It’s very new.”
Her jaw drops like she’s totally baffled by this information. “Oh my God! So, it’s really true. You’re sleeping with Hunter Johnstone!”
My eyes widen, and my face feels like it’s turning beet red. “Who told you that?”