There are hundreds of people in this room, yet none hold a candle to him. He’s taller than most, leaner than most, and his laugh—although I can’t hear it from here—is most definitely more vibrant than everyone combined. I’m halfway across the room, and I’m taken by the sheer charisma and confidence that ooze from him.
He’s wearing a black suit with a matching tie. With his broad shoulders and tapered waist, the fine suit shows off his body, which is undeniably athletic. His golden hair is combed back, and his lips are pursed on a lowball glass filled with an amber liquid.
He’s a stunning man. I’ve never been one for big or brawny guys. My ex-boyfriends have all been lanky. The cool, low-key, unassuming kind of man. Everything Sebastian is not.
Sebastian is a mix of muscle and tone. He’s sexy without being roguish. Built without the unneeded bulkiness. His features are soft and beautiful yet hard where it counts—like his jaw, his piercing gaze, and his lips.
My hand brushes against the other one at the memory of what his felt like on mine.
I place my hands on my hips, recalling how his felt as they gripped me tightly, never wanting to let go.
Shawn leans over and whispers, “Down, girl. You’re practically foaming at the mouth.”
I give him the side-eye, which I hope he reads as the equivalent of giving him the finger.
“I take it, that’s the loyal lawyer over there?” He juts his chin toward Sebastian, who is making his way closer to us, still chatting away.
“That’s him.”
“You can try to act like you aren’t into the guy, but your misty-eyed expression is a total giveaway.”
“Not the conversation we should be having here,” I whisper out the side of my mouth.
“Just saying. Dude is rich, and he really likes to help you out.”
“Money isn’t everything.” I fidget with the tablecloth, making sure everything is straight.
“Trust me, I know or else I’d never get laid. He’s a good-looking dude though. Probably could have any woman in this room.”
I tilt my head at Shawn and scowl. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. Just stating a fact. He’s a baller. Look at how he holds that woman’s hand while she speaks. She’s practically wetting her panties right now.”
I glance over. Sebastian is talking with a woman who is significantly older than him. He has one of her hands wrapped in his. Not in a sexual way. It’s a warm gesture that he must be coupling with a compliment because she’s batting her eyes and leaning forward. A man at her side, presumably her husband, is beaming at her, agreeing with whatever it is Sebastian is saying. Sebastian releases her hand and then shakes the man’s before moving on to the next couple.
“He’s just working the room,” I surmise.
Shawn nods. “Like I said, baller.”
I roll my eyes with a grin as I continue to smile at the passing guests. The music being played is an old jazz standard that has me swaying a little.
Sebastian is getting closer, and soon enough, he makes his way over to our table. There are mountains of finely placed chocolates on the table, and instead of looking at any of them, his gaze penetrates me as I breathe deeper and smile brighter.
“Good evening, Amy.”
My belly flutters, and it takes me a moment to speak. “Sebastian. Thank you so much for hiring us. It’s absolutely beautiful. I’ve always wanted to attend an event up here.”
His expression doesn’t hide his surprise. “Is this your first time inside the atrium?”
I nod. “All work and no play, I suppose.”
Sebastian shifts his head and then turns back to me. His brows lower, making the side of his eyes wrinkle as he stares at me, lost in thought. He smiles and then glances down for a moment, taking in the display. “This looks delectable. You’re most definitely going to spoil our guests.”
“Shawn here helps me create every piece,” I say by way of introduction. “Sebastian Blake, this is my sous-chef, Shawn McCormack.”
Shawn extends a hand. “Nice party. It would be nicer if we could get some guests over here to taste Amy’s amazing products.”
I turn to Shawn with a scowl. “This is not a vendor event. It’s a party. If they come, they come. Please don’t pressure Mr. Blake.”
Sebastian interrupts my whispered scolding, “No, no. He’s right. I wanted you here because we always do something extra for guests at these events. Last year, it was a photo booth, and the year before, we had Kareem Abdul Jabbar signing basketballs. This year, we’re loading them up with chocolate. The guests should come over because this is their gift.”
There’s a group of people to the side, young twenty-somethings, who Sebastian walks over to. When he comes back, it’s with an entourage of eight, who he introduces to me and Shawn. Then, he steps back as the people check out my offerings. A man takes the tongs placed on the table, examining each one, like he can’t decide what he wants to choose.
“What are you drinking?” I ask him.
He looks back at me, confused. “Single malt scotch.”
“Whiskey and chocolate are a perfect pairing since their flavor profiles are so similar. It’s best to enjoy both at room temperature.” I lift my tongs and offer him a piece of sea salt dark chocolate to put on his plate. “Place this in your mouth for a few seconds before taking a sip. Scotch is naturally creamy with notes of citrus, so the chocolate will brighten up the scotch while the drink’s subtle honey flavor showcases the bold salty note.”
He does so and then chews, enjoying the piece before following with a sip of scotch.
His head nods in appreciation. “That’s delicious.”
“Do me!” A woman moves over enthusiastically. “What do you recommend for champagne?”
Shawn and I show our guests around the table, recommending chocolates to pair with whatever they’re drinking—nutty flavors for bourbon, white chocolate for tequila, and extra-dark chocolate for merlot.
Once Sebastian walked over the first group, the floodgates opened, and the table is bustling with people tasting our product.
Not everyone wants their drinks paired. Some just come and sample without a word. Others are specific about allergies and dietary restrictions. Many just want something sweet after eating appetizers and visiting the carving or pasta stations.
Sebastian is back several times, always with someone he wants to introduce me to. Colleagues of his, affiliates of the business, and even a few people he’s meeting tonight for the first time. He doesn’t treat me or Shawn like hired help. He introduces us as his friends and raves about our products, even making suggestions on how they should use us for corporate gifts over the holidays.
While my cheeks are blushing and my heart is pounding, I retain my professionalism as I greet them and cater to their tasting needs. A few ask for my card, and I am happy to pass it on.
There’s a moment where I wonder if I’m going to run out of chocolates since some people are coming back multiple times.
Two hours into the party, the attention to our table has simmered down, as most people are now dancing, drinking, and engrossed in conversation. I’d say a hundred or so people have already left, and there’s still another hour of the event remaining.