Chapter 1
Noelle Sterling
The ballroom looked exactly how I planned it. I’d spent weeks on every detail, and it came together better than the renderings. White satin linen covered every table, soft gold light bounced off crystal glassware, and tall arrangements of red roses and white hydrangeas sat in gold stands that shimmered under the chandeliers. The scent of pine candles filled the air, mixing with champagne and designer perfume. The scent alone screamedmoney well spent.Guests laughed and toasted, phones flashed as they posed under the gold and white backdrop I’d designed with my company’s logo prints in small, classy letters along the bottom corner.
I didn’t have to say it out loud, but everyone in this room knew Sterling & Co. Events was behind the magic. A jazz quartet played a slow version of ‘This Christmas’ as I stood to the side with my tablet in hand, admiring the hard work I’d put in to make this a success. Camille, my assistant, walked over smiling.
“Mr. Richardson said they transferred the twenty-five thousand, plus the bonus for tonight’s event. He asked if you could stop by before you leave.”
“Perfect,” I said, glancing over my shoulder toward the main table. “Make sure the team gets paid by tomorrow and send the vendors their confirmations tonight.”
She nodded. “You got it, boss lady.”
I gave her the look I always did when she called meboss lady. I hated that. Yes, I was her boss, but the nickname made me sound so… bossy. Well, technically, I was, but I gave my employees respect. I didn’t bark orders unless a deadline was on fire.
“Thank you. Go ahead and let the staff clock out once the tables are cleared. And Camille?”
She turned back. “Yes?”
“Call meboss ladyagain, and I’ll dock some of that nice lump sum I’m paying you,” I said, half-smiling but dead serious.
Her mouth fell open for a second before she smirked at me. “Anybody ever tell you to lighten up? It was a joke—but yes, ma’am,” she said, spinning on her heel. “One day, you’re gonna actually stay and enjoy yourself at one of these parties,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Yeah, right,” I muttered once she was gone.
Partying, fun, and enjoyment were all foreign to me and had pretty much been since I was forced to realize that some people got love handed to them while others had a to earn every ounce of it that they got. I was the latter. Back when I was a kid, I used to watch the other foster children get picked up for the holidays. Families would bring gifts, hugs and food. My name was never on the list. After a while, I stopped waiting by the window. You get used to being left behind when it happens enough times and learn to suck it up and pretend it doesn’t hurt. I guess that was where my work ethic came from. If nobody showed up for me, I had to show up for my damn self.
“Ms. Sterling,” a man’s voice pulled me from the thought.
I quickly grounded myself back in the room. Daniel Richardson, tonight’s host, was walking toward me with a glass of champagne and that smooth grin men wear when they’re used to getting whatever the hell they want. I could tell he was feeling good because he’d loosened his tie and his posture was more relaxed.
“Everything looks incredible,” he said, eyes moving over the room before landing back on me. “You really outdid yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said proudly though I was ready to scream at how bad my toes were aching from these six-inch heels I wore to match my professional look. “I’m glad it all came together the way you wanted and thank you for trusting me with your vision.”
“Better than I wanted, might I add. The board’s already talking about next year’s event. I told them I only hire the best.” He handed me a white envelope. “Payment confirmation, though the transfer should already be in your account.”
“It is. I appreciate that.”
He lingered for a few minutes and I could tell he wanted to say more. “You ever stop long enough to enjoy any of these events? Maybe have a glass of wine or a dance here or there?”
I smiled, politely, though I could tell where this conversation was going from a mile away. He was trying to flirt, badly I might add.
“Not usually. My job is to make sure that other people enjoy themselves. It’s literally what I get paid to do.”
He studied my side view for a moment before speaking. “You make it sound like it’s a burden.”
“Not at all, I said, turning to look at him. “It’s just business.”
He chuckled, still holding the empty wine glass. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’m a phone call away. I owe you dinner at least.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, adjusting the strap to my bag.
“Have a good night, Noelle.”
“You too, Mr. Richardson.”
He finally turned away and headed back to his few remaining guests that seemed to linger even though the party was coming to an end, and I let out a breath of annoyance that I didn’t realize I was holding. It never failed that every male client I worked with tried to hit on me and me always turning them down never failed either. Daniel was handsome, smooth and clearly used to hearing the word yes, but I didn’t mix business with pleasure. Besides, he wasn’t my type. I like my men, chocolate, with a muscular body, a deep voice and you can’t forget that third leg. That was my weakness. Daniel was vanilla with deep pockets but with a scrawny body and the front of his slacks were straight up and down which meant… well, you know.
