Then I sat at my desk stewing in my outrage.
Ten minutes later I heard his footsteps down the hall. When he turned the corner and headed toward me, I braced myself to be fired. His shadow fell over me as he stopped by my desk and I forced myself to look up at him.
Caine’s face was carefully blank. “You may take the extra hour tomorrow. Alone.”
Shocked that he hadn’t canned my ass, but still hurt by his perception of me, I nodded and returned my attention to my computer screen.
He hovered for a few seconds longer, but I couldn’t look at him.
Eventually he moved away, slamming his office door behind him.
It would suffice to say that things between my boss and me were more than a little chilly for the rest of the week. He’d even curbed how much running around he had me doing because it meant he didn’t have to interact with me as much.
I refused to be upset over it, however. So he didn’t want me there at his fancy-ass party with his fancy-ass people. He thought I was beneath him. I decided not to give a shit.
At least … well, I tried to convince myself not to give a shit. I wasn’t too successful at that, although Henry did help a little. He sent flowers to the office on Friday, and the card said he was looking forward to spending Saturday evening with me. It was the first time a guy had done that for me, and I had to admit that being on the receiving end of the delivery was way more romantic than I’d expected.
Plus, it really made me gleeful how annoyed Caine got every time he passed my desk and saw the flowers. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would have suspected he was jealous.
By the time Saturday evening rolled around, my smug rebelliousness had been crushed by my nerves. I’d been to a few parties attended by celebrities when I worked for Benito, but nothing like this event. A society event was a whole different ball game. It was a complex social arena, and much more intimidating than anything I was used to. So when Caine made the dig about prom night, he wasn’t far off it.
There was also the fact that I liked Henry but I wasn’t attracted to him. Guilt niggled at me for using him to irritate my boss. A boss who begrudged my presence at the ball.
To conquer my nerves I concentrated on looking my best. My dress was gorgeous and I looked good, even if I had to say so myself because there was no one else around to give me the confidence boost. That depressed me. So I stood in front of my mirror, took a selfie, and sent it to Rachel.
A minute later she texted back: OMG, I’d fuck you!!!
There. That made me feel better.
Standing by my window, I looked down onto the tree-lined street and sipped at a glass of wine. I sucked in my breath, trying to fight down the nerves.
I almost succeeded until the black limo pulled up out front and Henry ducked out of it and strode quickly up my stoop. The buzzer went and I let him into the building. I waited a few seconds after he knocked on my door before grabbing the pashmina and the little clutch that matched my dress.
When I opened the door, Henry’s lips parted in surprise.
His gaze drifted over me slowly, taking in everything, and when they finally returned to my face, there was a heat in his eyes that made me feel both anxious and flattered.
“Wow.” He shook his head, smiling as though dazed. “You look … wow.”
The “wow” was for the amazingly fantastic olive green dress I’d found for a bargain on the sales rack of a small boutique on Charles Street. The material was a vibrant silk that felt wonderful against my skin in the muggy Boston summer air. It had a halter neckline and a low-cut back with a slit up to my knee on the right side of the dress.
Overall it was not demure, it was not conservative, but it was still classy as hell and sexy to boot. It was going to piss Caine off and I was going to love every minute. I’d made an appointment at the hair salon that afternoon, and after experimenting with different looks we decided to go with an elegant updo, leaving a few wavy strands loose.
“Thank you.” I took Henry’s proffered arm. “You look very handsome.” And he did in his sharp, immaculately fitted tux.
He grinned at me. “If I look good it’s because I’ve got you on my arm.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You know your charm only has a very superficial effect on me.”
Henry chuckled. “That works for me.”
The Andersons’ mansion was in Weston and as soon as the limo joined the line of cars on the massive circular driveway, my nerves began to multiply a hundredfold. The redbrick mansion with its white trim was the biggest house I’d ever seen in real life. It seemed to engulf us, casting us into shadow as the driver held the door open and Henry helped me out after him.
He patted my hand, seeming to sense my nerves. “It’s just a house.”
“That swallowed ten other houses,” I said.
Henry laughed. “Come on. I’ve seen you paste on a serene smile when Caine is trying your patience, so I know you can fake it with the best of them. You’ve just got to pretend you belong here. It’s how Caine does it, and no one ever questions him.”
There was truth in that and it actually helped calm my nerves. I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“Ready to dazzle them?” He held out his arm.
“Let’s do this.”
We were greeted at the mammoth double entrance doors by big brooding men in black suits wearing earpieces. Henry handed over his invitation and the men waved us through. I tried not to gulp as we walked into a large oval-shaped entrance that seemed to have been built entirely of marble. We followed the guests down a small group of stairs at the end leading us into a huge entrance area. Oversized pocket doors had been opened on our right, leading directly into a ballroom.
An actual ballroom.
“Someone should tell them they have a ballroom in their house and that it’s roughly half the length of the entire mansion.”
Henry’s body shook with amusement as he led me into the gargantuan room. “I think they might already know about it.”
“True. It’s kind of like having Godzilla living with you. It’s not like you’re not going to notice that baby.” I took in the high arched ceiling and the stunning chandeliers that hung from it. Long tables draped in pale gold tablecloths were lined with hors d’oeuvres and glasses of champagne. A champagne fountain sat proudly in the middle of the center table. The room was decorated with simple elegance, but everywhere seemed to sparkle. Classical musicians were seated way, way down at the other end of the room where four sets of French doors led out into the garden. “Or in this case drape it in white gold and silver and fill it up with five-hundred-dollar bottles of champa …” I trailed off when I realized that some of the elegantly dressed guests were staring at us.
“Your fingernails are biting into my arm.”
“Because people are staring,” I whispered, and my pulse picked up speed.
“That’s because—and I’m trying very hard not to sound like a conceited ass—you’re with me, a Lexington, and more important, you’re stunning and they’re all wondering where I found you.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “You better not tell them Hollywood Boulevard.”
He laughed. “Damn, ruin my fun, why don’t you?”