Page 32 of Keeping Denver

After I take care of making sure we have enough bottled water, and place a call to our usual catering company for Callan's meeting, I sit back down at my desk and find several new emails. One of them from Spencer. The subject line reads PLUS ONE CONFIRMATION. I open the email.

Mr. Hawk, please confirm a plus one to tonight's dinner.

Beverly.

Beverly is Spencer's PA of the week. Apparently, his assistant is on maternity leave and for the last month he hasn't been able to hold onto a temp longer than a day or two. Let's see how long Beverly lasts. Pulling up Callan's schedule for today, I don't see anything regarding dinner tonight. Crap. Now I have to go into the lion's den and ask Mr. Grumpy about it. Blowing out a breath, I push away from my desk, make my way to Callan's office door and knock.

"What!"

I step into his office. "I received an email from Beverly."

Callan looks up from his computer. "Okay. Who is Beverly?"

"Beverly is Spencer's assistant for the day and she would like to confirm whether or not you will be bringing a plus one to the dinner tonight?"

Callan scrunches his brow in confusion for a second before cursing, "Shit."

"I'm sorry. I checked your schedule and didn't see anything about dinner. I would have reminded you if I had."

He runs his hand down his face. "It's not your fault, baby. My last assistant must not have added it to my schedule when the invitations were sent out months ago." Callan picks up the phone on his desk and punches some numbers. "Hey, Frances. I need you to reschedule my three o'clock." He looks up from the papers lying in front of him, and smiles at me. "Yeah, everything is alright. I just remembered Spencer's dinner thing is tonight. I'm taking Denver on a long lunch." Callan's smile grows, making me smile too. "Will do." Standing, Callan strides over to where his suit jacket hangs and puts it on. "Grab your purse. We have shopping to do."

"What are you talking about." I trail behind him and grab my purse from my desk drawer as he waits for me.

"You're going with me to Spencer's charity dinner tonight. You'll need a dress."

A short time later, Callan and I arrive at a department store where his personal stylist greets us. "Mr. Hawk, Miss Hollis. It's good to see you."

"Maggie, it's good to see you again." Callan pulls me to his side, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Denver."

I offer my hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's good to finally put a face to the woman I've had the pleasure of shopping for. And now that I see all this gorgeous red hair," she gestures, "I can't wait to pick you out some more appropriate pieces to accentuate all your fabulous features." Pivoting on her heel, she crosses the room. "I have the perfect gown for you."

Maggie leads Callan and me to a more secluded part of the store. Callan takes a seat on the chair and gives me a panty-melting smile as Maggie leads me to a large changing room. The moment she pulls back the curtain I gasp. Hanging in front of me is the most beautiful dress I have ever laid eyes on. "I can't wait to see this dress on you, Denver. I know it's going to be stunning," Maggie beams, clasping her hands together.

After stripping down to my bra and panties, she helps me into the gown. Once the back of the dress is zipped, I take a deep breath, and face the floor-length mirror. My breath catches as I take in my reflection.

"Perfect," Maggie whispers her approval. The velvet, long-sleeved emerald green gown hugs my curves perfectly. I stare at my reflection, thinking how could the beautiful woman looking back, be me. I run my palms over the luxurious fabric. The deep v-neck, which shows off a bit of cleavage, plummets to my torso, where a belt cinches my waist in, accentuating the slight flare of my hips. The long slit up the right side stops about mid-thigh, showing the perfect amount of leg, making the gown sexy, yet tasteful. I feel like a princess. "I have never worn something this beautiful."

"Oh, honey. The dress is beautiful, but you make it look like a piece of art." Turning Maggie opens a box sitting on the tufted bench, pulling out a pair of matching green, five-inch strappy heels. "Let's get these on you." Crouching down to the floor, she helps me slip the shoes on. "Let's show Mr. Hawk." Maggie pulls back the curtain, and I step through. I walk into the waiting area, where Callan is sitting. He looks up from his phone. His nostrils flare as his eyes travel the length of my body.

"What do you think?" I ask nervously, and try not to fidget.

Without taking his focus off me, he says, "We'll take it—shoes too. Please have it delivered to my Penthouse by four." He hands Maggie his credit card.

Hours later, I'm riding in the back of a limo next to Callan with my nerves all over the place. I've never been to a fancy function before. "What charity is this event for?"

"Domestic violence. Spencer started holding charity dinners eight years ago. Once he started making a name for himself, he took advantage of his platform and connections. He's not big on rubbing elbows with most of the people in attendance, but the money and donations the event brings are well worth it."

"I think what he's doing is admirable. There are not enough people in the world like you and Spencer. You two use your money and power to make a difference."

Callan threads his hand with mine, bringing it to his lips. "Most people who attend don't come from humble beginnings like Spencer and me. They don't know those kinds of struggles. Unfortunately, a majority of them only donate because it makes them look good on paper."

"That's horrible."

"It is," Callan agrees. "But, at the end of the day, his goal is getting inside their pockets and helping those who are less fortunate." The limo stops in front of one of New York's most famous hotels. A red carpet paves the way to the entrance, and lining the rug is a slew of photographers. Callan turns to me. "You ready, baby?"

"You didn't tell me the press would be here."