by Cassidy Coal
Steamy Short Stories by Cassidy Coal
A Mile High Romance: The Complete Collection
An Undeniable Attraction: The Complete Collection
A New Year’s to Remember
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Sweet Short Stories by Cassidy Coal
writing as C. Coal
Puppy Love: Volumes 1 to 13
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Novels by Cassidy Coal writing as C.K. Carr
Something Worth Having
Something Gained
A Mile High Gala
Cassidy Coal
Contents
A Mile High Gala
About the Author
A Mile High Gala
Sarah Baxter glanced around the room, noting the millions of dollars in diamonds weighing down the wattled necks and liver-spotted hands of the local who's who—matronly women with prim expressions and older men whose waistlines showed the signs of a few too many martini and steak lunches. Scattered between them were the younger crowd—the women who spent their spare time and money on spa and botox treatments, the men with their hair plugs and two hours a day at the gym squeezed in between essential business meetings where they all got to feel like the very important people they were.
Sarah was probably the only one under thirty in the entire room. And she was far too curvy for this crowd. Oh sure, some of the older women were carrying a few pounds—not every pencil-thin woman made it to sixty without adding some weight—and some of the younger women had a fair amount of cleavage showing.
But none of the women were curvy like Sarah. She was more Maxim, less W.
She sighed, wondering how much longer she and Tyler would have to stay at this event for some charity no one in the room even cared about.
So not her scene.
She turned her attention back to the gaggle of women clustered around Tyler, all of them gazing adoringly at him as they jockeyed for position. Lately it seemed like every single woman on the planet was making a pass at him. Guess they figured if he'd stoop low enough to marry someone like Sarah that maybe they had a chance at him after all.
Forget the fact that he was already engaged.
She'd overheard one woman say that it didn't really count until the vows were spoken and the other say that it didn't even count then. That it would only count when they'd had children.
Well, too bad none of these women understood the first thing about Tyler Corrigan. He was hers and no one was going to take him away. No one.
She smiled up at him, marveling once more that this man with his perfect physique, jet black hair, and gorgeous green eyes was hers. Hers. Trailer park trash Sarah had somehow snagged herself a billionaire straight from the pages of GQ.
Tyler smiled back at her, his eyes shining with love; she almost swooned at his feet.
She'd lost track of the conversation in their little group. Not like she really cared what they were saying. It was either not directed at her or nothing that she cared to respond to.
A waiter walked by with a tray of bite-sized meatballs and Sarah stepped away to intercept him. "Wait up. Here, I'll take one of those." She barely kept herself from grabbing his sleeve to stop him.
The waiter turned slowly with a carefully polite smile on his face and held the silver serving tray out as he offered her a napkin with his other hand.
Sarah speared a meatball on a toothpick, dipped it in the provided sauce, ate it whole, and dropped the toothpick back in the thoughtfully-provided silver cup on the tray. "Mm. Not bad," she mumbled as she chewed on it.
The waiter started to turn away with a slight eye roll, but Sarah stopped him. "Wait. That was good. Let me get a couple more of those."
The waiter sniffed in disapproval as he watched her load up with three more meatballs.
Two of the women in the group she'd abandoned muttered to one another as they watched.
Geez. It was like high school all over again…
Well, to hell with them. She was hungry and if her only options were bite-sized pieces of haute cuisine she was just going to have to look like a greedy pig for a bit until she'd eaten enough so she wouldn't faint.
Not like she wanted to be here.
She'd only come because Tyler had begged and pleaded with her for days to accompany him. Even then she probably wouldn't have said yes except Jane had insisted that it was also a great business opportunity for their newly-started company.
Whether she wanted to or not, seems she'd become the face of MSHJ Fashions. Every time she and Tyler went anywhere it seemed to end up on some fashion blog or other. She'd never had to worry so damned much about how she looked in her life.
Oh well. That was the price she paid for having the man of her dreams. At least it was helping to fuel sales for the new company.
She sighed as her eyes met Tyler's. He was so gorgeous; it made her shiver every time. She smiled, thinking of how this night might end. The two of them in the limo, the soft leather seats, a bottle of champagne…
And a trip through the McDonald's drive-thru if she had any say in it. He owed her at least that much.
Not that they were quite as hot and heavy as they'd been when they first got together. She'd practically moved in with him after the engagement and it seemed things changed when you lived with a guy.
They'd settled into a comfy cozy coupledom for the last few weeks. One more prone to nights curled up on the couch next to each other than hours-long sessions of trying crazy positions and edible condiments.
It was still great, though. To have that much time with Tyler was like a Godsend.
She would've loved to just stay in and never leave, but there was always something pulling them back to the real world—Sunday dinner at her mom's or one of these little swank to-do's that he just had to make an appearance at.
At least he wasn't traveling anymore so they could wake up together each morning.
He'd given that up.
For her.
She tried not to think about that too much—everything he'd sacrificed to be with her and how little she'd been willing to give up to be with him—because if she did then she'd wonder how long they could really last before he realized and walked away.
Sarah shoved a meatball in her mouth and stepped back to the group. They were discussing yet another charity event scheduled for next weekend.
Did these people never just stay home and watch TV? Weren't there easier ways to support a good cause, like just writing a damned check?
She was so ready to go home.
Her strappy five-inch black heels were killing her; she was sorely tempted to kick them off and leave them somewhere along the wall, but she didn't. Not because she cared what the circle of fawning women around Tyler would think, but because she was trying to be a good partner to him, trying to live up to the kind of woman he needed by his side on nights like this.
"Is that for me?" Tyler asked, nodding at the meatball she was holding and giving her that sexy half-smile of his.
"Hell no. I'm starving." She popped it in her mouth and winked as she showed him the last meatball that she'd been hiding in her other hand.
Tyler laughed and kissed her on the forehead before taking it and popping it into his mouth.
Sarah tried to follow the conversation, but she was far more interested in the waiter with a tray of fresh shrimp and cocktail sauce circulating on the far edge of the room. Unfortunately, he turned back to the kitchen long before reaching them.
She nudged Tyler, hoping he'd move closer to the kitchen.
One of the women turned to her. She was probably mid-thirties and in a bright pink dress that was almost painful to look at. "So, um, Sarah. Have you thought about where you're going to have your wedding?" The woman tried to smile, but couldn't quite
remove the impression that she was sucking on a lemon.
"No, not really." She really wished they hadn't been so excited on the night Tyler proposed that they'd shouted it to the world and ended up on the front-page of the paper the next day. Now all anyone ever wanted to talk to her about was the wedding. Or Tyler.
The woman touched her arm, her expression far too earnest as she said, "Oh, you should. The best venues fill up years in advance."
Tyler smiled, casual and easy as always. "You forget, Amanda, the Corrigans do own half of the most popular wedding venues on the East Coast. Wherever and whenever Sarah wants to say I do, I'll make it happen."
Sarah forced a smile. His casual mention of that kind of power and influence chilled her. She loved Tyler Corrigan. She did.
But…
She could've done without all the money and what that brought with it.
She turned to him, a slight smirk on her face. "So, tomorrow at the county court works for you then?"
The woman who'd asked the initial question gasped and Sarah found herself waving her hands to calm the entire group. "I was kidding, of course."
Amanda fanned herself. "I certainly hope so! Your wedding is going to be the social event of the season. Oh, to think what Henrietta would do if you just got married at the county court like…That would almost be as bad as running away to Vegas."
Sarah's other top choice.
But they couldn't do that either. Because, Henrietta, Tyler's mother, wouldn't allow it.
The woman still hadn't deigned to meet Sarah, but she'd made it clear through her e-mails to Tyler that she expected him to handle the wedding ceremony with far more class and planning than he had the engagement. Henrietta Corrigan was not going to let her son's foolishness damage her reputation one whit more than it already had.
A woman with an unfortunately overdone bun perched on the top of her head leaned forward, glancing between them as if sharing some sort of big secret. "Is it true that you and Tyler met when you were working at Corrigan, Inc.? I heard you were his intern." The woman waggled her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows as she smiled at them.
Sarah shook her head. So now she'd been his intern? Instead of a highly-educated accountant with strong career prospects and a good education? She was sick and tired of that little undercurrent of judgment she kept hearing. Just because he'd been her boss when they met didn't mean she'd been incompetent or unprofessional.
She wished just one person would come out with it and say, "So you're a low-class slut who seduced your older and much richer boss into marrying you?" At least then she could meet it head-on. But no. That wasn't the way these people worked.
Tyler stepped in before Sarah could say something unfortunate. "Sarah and I did meet while she was working at Corrigan, Inc., but she was far from some lowly intern. She was one of my best forensic accountants. And it took me a full two years to finally catch her eye."
She shook her head, still not believing that he really had fallen in love with her the first day they met even though he insisted on telling everyone that.
She'd certainly been drawn to him that first day, but she refused to believe he'd been drawn to her the same way. Of course, her attraction had lasted until she found out who he really was and then she'd done everything she could to avoid him. The last thing she'd needed was to get all hung up on some privileged, rich boy.
(And look at her now.)
He, on the other hand, had tried everything he could to draw her to him. Or so he said. Somehow she hadn't noticed all his efforts until that fateful flight to Paris.
"So, how'd you two finally get together then?" the woman asked.
"A magical Christmas trip to Paris." Tyler smiled down at Sarah and it was like the rest of the world disappeared as she lost herself in him. "That's when we finally realized how much we had in common."
The woman's friend choked on her glass of white wine. "In common? Really? Like what?"
Tyler's hand gripped Sarah's elbow, warning her not to respond. He should know her better by now. Filtering her words was not something Sarah was good at nor was it a skill she cared to acquire especially not in situations like this.
Once more Tyler stepped in before she could speak her mind. "We share a love of knowledge and business and travel and…"
Sex.
She didn't say it, but she could see from the look on Tyler's face that he knew what she was thinking.
He placed his hand on Sarah's back and nodded graciously to the group of women. "Ladies, it was so good to see you again, but I'm afraid we have to move on. I really want Sarah to meet John Clarke and he just arrived. If we don't catch him now, who knows when we'll get another chance at him."
The women smiled and swooned as Tyler guided Sarah away.
"Can we leave, please?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and he kissed the top of her head.
"Soon. I promise. Just a few more people to greet. And I do want you to meet John Clarke. He could be incredibly useful with your new business venture."
She sighed. She loved that Tyler was so supportive, but she'd wanted to succeed on her own.
She'd started a business with her best friends and her family because she wanted to work together with them to make it a success, but she was quickly learning that when your fiancé was one of the wealthiest men in the country there was no such thing as doing something on your own. Tyler knew too many people and too many people wanted to impress him. Orders had increased ten-fold in the first week after their engagement was announced and were on track to increase another ten-fold by the end of the month.
Pretty soon they were going to have to hire extra help just to keep up with demand. They'd even doubled their prices and sales were still through the roof.
A stout older man made his way towards them with a smile and a wave. Oh no. Not the stamp collector. Sarah had spent twenty minutes last week listening to him talk about some incredibly rare stamp he'd just bought that had taken him six months of diligent effort to find.
Imagine. Wasting six months of your life to find a used piece of paper with some glue on the back of it. And then wasting twenty minutes of her life telling her about it.
"I need to go to the ladies' room." Sarah ducked away before the man reached them.
She glanced back to see Tyler staring at her, his hand still hanging in the air, a confused expression on his face as the stamp collector closed on him.
She loved him, but she didn't love him that much.
* * *
Sarah sank onto the settee in the anteroom of the bathroom and kicked off her shoes. The little space with its makeup bench, full-length mirrors, and bright lights was bigger than her childhood bedroom. And it was just the entryway to the bathrooms which were all large, individually enclosed spaces.
She shook her head.
She loved Tyler—he was amazing and gorgeous and better than any guy she'd ever known—but…
His world was not her world.
And she didn't want it to be.
Tyler had grown up with these people. Those old matronly women and overfed men had known him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. And the overly nipped and tucked women and men were his peers. Many were friends from boarding school or college. He sat on boards, gave to the same charities, and attended the same country club as them.
Sarah? Not so much. The only club her family might rightfully join was the book club at the local library. And her idea of giving to charity was donating old clothes to the Goodwill.
No. This was definitely not her world.
Oh, sure, she could pretend and everyone else would go along with it for Tyler's sake. But they all knew she didn't belong and never would.
A very attractive older woman walked into the room as if she owned it. She glanced at Sarah, weighing her and judging her in the space of the ten seconds it took her to walk to the full-length mirror. From her expression, she clearly didn't like what she saw.
The woman was tall, almost statuesque. She h
ad hair dyed that perfect shade of blonde that women of a certain social class and attitude seemed to prefer.
She wore a long blue dress that hugged her slender figure. It had a high slit in one side—not so high that it was scandalous for her age, but high enough to show that she still had "it" even at her age. Same with the neckline of her dress; it plunged enough to show that her skin was well cared for, but not enough to show too much.
The woman carefully reapplied her lipstick and smoothed her hands down her sides before turning to Sarah.
"So. You're the trailer park trash my son is going to marry."
Sarah flinched.
Henrietta Corrigan. She should've known. The woman had the same eyes as her son, but where Tyler's eyes were mesmerizing, drawing people to him, Henrietta's were like a weapon, cutting with a glance.
Sarah stood, scooping her heels up in her hand. Tyler's mom was a good three inches taller than her. Sarah silently wished she hadn't taken off her shoes, but she'd be damned if she was going to stoop down and struggle to pull them back on in front of this woman.
She faked a smile. "Yes, I guess I am. And you must be the self-absorbed mother who never even bothered to give your son one Christmas present."
Tyler's mother laughed—a loud, throaty laugh without a trace of warmth to it. "Is that what he told you? Poor little rich boy who always had everything he wanted when he wanted it, and he managed to capture your heart with stories of his lonely Christmas mornings? Did he mention that those tragic, awful holidays were spent in some of the most gorgeous places in the world? That while everyone else was home opening gaudy trinkets they didn't even want that he was skiing fresh powder in the Swiss Alps? Or sipping cocoa in a mansion in Vail?"
Sarah met the woman's eyes. "He did. But see, what this little trailer park queen knows and you don't seem to, is that quality time spent with the ones you love is worth more than any fancy vacations. But that's okay. Because Tyler has me now and I'm more than happy to give him all the love you never did."
