Lila knew me too well and would pounce on any insecurity. She’d always been my biggest cheerleader and hated when I put myself down.
We spent the rest of the night with me trying not to think about the gala and Lila talking about nothingbutthe gala.
By the time she left and I fell into bed, I’d almost changed my mind about going.
I woke to a voicemail the next morning. Lila’s cheerful voice filled my bedroom. “Don’t you dare try to back out. You’re going to the gala.”
I snorted and covered my head with the blanket, fully prepared to call in sick at work and refuse to move from my bed. If I knew Lila would let me, I’d go for it. But she’d show up, drag me out of bed, and shove me out the door.
So, I fought my way out of the covers and went to work like it was any other day. I somehow managed to get through my job without any major blunders and drove home to dress for the gala. I’d barely gotten through the door and closed it behind me when the doorbell rang. Surprise skittered up my spine in a rolling wave, and I opened the door a crack to peer out.
A long black box rested on the doorstep, with a crisp, white card tucked underneath an elegant silver bow. I checked left and right along the sidewalk, but no one caught my eye. I opened the door a bit further and pulled the box inside, snatching the card up and ripping it open.
“I look forward to seeing you tonight. Dante.” The bold script locked my heart in a furious beat, but it was the intention behind the words that had me digging into the box with a kind of frantic fervor.
The black lid gave way to piles of white tissue paper. I peeled the layers back one by one, revealing a swath of red fabric. “No way.” I ran my hand along the skirt and up over the ruffled shoulders.“No way in hell he sent me the fucking red dress fromPretty Woman.”
I pinched the shoulder pieces between my thumb and forefinger and lifted the dress from the depths. Nope. Definitely not the same dress, but the gut punch feeling refused to abate. It mixed with a jolt of pleasure that he’d cared enough to send me a stunning dress, but was he trying to buy me in some way?
I couldn’t make sense of his intentions. The dress was something from a dream. The long skirt tapered at the waist in an hourglass shape that would hug my curves. I checked the tag. How had he known my exact size? I wasn’t exactly easy to fit, but this dress might as well have been tailor made for me like one of his suits.
I carried the dress to my room, laid it across the foot of the bed, then returned for the card. I read it again before trying to stuff it back in the envelope. The edge caught on something, forcing me to stop and peer inside.
A gold keycard glimmered at the bottom of the card. The hotel’s logo was etched on the front, and the word penthouse on the back.
8
ALEXANDER
I put my back to the bar and accepted the drink the bartender slid my way. It was one of my requirements every time we had one of these parties. An in-house, full-service bar helped make the night bearable.
And knowing that Harper would walk through the door any minute helped keep the frustration at bay. Being in charge of a company was easy compared to nights like this. I’d rather face down a room full of angry board members than schmooze a room. Not that I couldn’t. I simply preferred the thrill and calculated effort that came from business.
Dante walked my way with a new swagger in his stride. He’d pulled out the big guns for the Valentine’s event, opting for a live band that played in the corner and hiring a decorator that turned the already fancy ballroom into a red and gold extravaganza.
“How much did you spend on this bullshit?” I sipped the whiskey and angled my head toward the red hearts cascading down in a waterfall behind the band. An actual fucking waterfalltook up the corner opposite the band, the soft splashing sound contrasting with the low bass.
Julian crept up behind Dante and slapped him on the back. “Don’t blame Dante. He gave me a budget. I said fuck it and did what I wanted.”
I arched a brow. “You letJulianplan this? Good god. Please tell me there will not be strippers.”
“No strippers.” Julian’s eyes gleamed with manic delight. “Just a nude wrestling contest and a giant cake with a singing man inside.”
My jaw unhinged with a rasping sound. “You fucker.”
“I’m kidding.” Julian rolled his eyes and slapped my shoulder this time. “You’re too fucking tense. Come on. I’m not a complete idiot. I just know what people like, and what they have come to expect from our galas. The theme tonight is midnight elegance.” He peered over my shoulder and whistled. “Speaking of elegance.” He pushed my shoulder, forcing me to turn.
It took less than a second to find what had snagged his attention. Or rather,whohad.
Harper. She stood in the open doorway with her hands clasped in a knot. A sleek red dress captured every curve and cupped her breasts in a delicious manner that made my mouth water.
“Fuck. Me.” Julian shook his head. “Are you sure we have to keep it discreet?”
Dante grunted, his attention locked on Harper. “Yes.”
I snapped my fingers and the bartender nodded. Seconds later, a second drink landed on the mahogany bar. I picked up thedelicate martini glass and carried it across the room, holding it out to Harper. “Pleasure to see you, Harper.”
She took the glass, cupping the bottom with one hand and holding the stem with the other. Her gaze swept over me, and her tongue darted out to brush her bottom lip. “Alexander.”
