Valentine's Day Virgin

by Penny Wylder

  "You know what the office is like right now. I'll be there until midnight tonight, and tomorrow too, probably. I don't exactly have the time to go out to a bar and find a pretty girl who's willing to go to a party with me." And I'm not going to hire someone either, though the thought did cross my mind for the briefest of seconds. I could never do that. It's too close to home.

  But the fact that my life is in an office building across town doesn't change the fact that what Bianca just said is true. If I show up to the party alone my mother won't be happy, or worse...

  "Yeah, I don't know," I say. "Have you found someone?"

  Bianca shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah," she says. "I've been seeing someone for a few months. I hadn't told anyone about it, but now seemed like as good a time as any to introduce him to the circus."

  I stare at her. "You want to introduce Mom to your actual boyfriend on Valentine’s Day? She's going to be thrilled. But then you're going to have to marry him."

  "Don't be silly," Bianca says. "She'll understand if it doesn't work out."

  It's my turn to roll my eyes. “Have you met our mother?”

  “James is nice,” she says, “and I really like him. It’s to that point where I need to introduce him, otherwise it looks like I’m intentionally hiding something. He wants to meet the family, even though I’ve warned him about everything, so I’m stuck. It has to happen.” She shrugs, “I’ve resigned myself.”

  “Well,” I say, “if you’re bringing someone maybe that means that she’ll be okay if I don’t.”

  Bianca laughs out loud. “That was funny.”

  "It could happen," I say.

  Bianca takes a sip of her wine. "It's not like you to be delusional, Eric. You show up alone, Mom is going to be heartbroken, and she's going to spiral. And then she's not only going to take you and me down with her anxiety, she's going to take the whole family down. And as much as I want you to not have to bring a date, I really don't want to see that again, do you?"

  I sigh. "No."

  "You could call Susan," she suggests.

  "No thanks," I say, taking a swig of the scotch. "I'd rather piss off Mom than do that."

  Bianca swirls her wine in her glass and levels her most forceful stare at me. "That's a little dramatic."

  "I promise you it's not. Susan was only here for the money, and on top of that, Mom hates her."

  She sighs. "Fine." A second later her eyes light up and she claps her hands together, waking Edison who is snoozing on her lap. "I have a much better idea," she says as John places the plate of pasta in front of her. "I'll find you a date!"

  John and I lock eyes for a second as he places the plate with my steak on it in front of me. It's a second of shared male terror of allowing your sister to set you up with one of her friends. "No thanks, Bianca."

  "Oh stop, it won't be like last time. I know someone who owes me a favor. Kind of. Or at least she believes she owes me a favor."

  "You're going to blackmail some poor girl into going to this party with me?"

  Bianca looks offended. "Blackmail? I don't think so. The poor girl would practically fall over her feet to pay me back what she thinks she owes me. It's a win-win. You get a date, and I won't have to spend any time convincing her that she doesn't actually owe me anything. Besides, she's cute. I think you'll like her."

  "And this mystery girl that you've pulled out of your sleeve isn't going to be someone you hired?"

  She rolls her eyes. "No."

  "Last question," I say. "She's not going to be offended that she's going as arm candy? You're not going to paint a romantic picture in her head that I'm going to sweep her away for some kind of romantic date and live happily ever after?"

  Bianca laughs. "As perfectly ironic as that would be, considering how much you hate this time of year, no. I'll make sure she knows it's just so that our family doesn't fall apart." She grins. "With as little detail as possible, of course."

  There's something nagging at my brain, but I can't find a better way than what she's suggesting. I'm never going to find someone in time if I don't take her offer. Might as well suffer through it. The party is going to be hell either way. "All right. I want to meet her before the party though. Can you have her stop by the office later today?"

  "Sure," she says, a conspiratorial grin on her face. "Who knows, maybe you'll actually want to sweep her off her feet."

  "Not likely."

  “You never know.” Bianca winks.

  “I do know. It’s not going to happen.”

  "Have an open mind, Eric," she sighs. "There's healing at your own pace, and then there's just being fucking stubborn. You're dangerously close to the latter."

  I cut into my steak, pushing down the sudden denial and anger that her comment brings up. "Mind your own business," I say.

  "If I'm suddenly saving your ass, I think I'm entitled to a few truthful comments. Eventually you're going to have to let go of this anger, because it's not going to help you, and it's starting to really screw with your life. Just...think about it, okay?"

  "Fine," I say, only to get her to change the topic.

  "Is four-thirty okay for her to come to your office?"

  I nod. "Works for me."

  "I'll make it happen. Now," she says, leaning forward. "Tell me about all the disasters."

  "That might take more time than we have."

  She laughs. "Just one then."

  "One of our printers ran out of paper."

  Bianca's eyes go wide. "No."

  "Yep." I launch into the story of the disaster I had to solve yesterday, while I'm painfully aware that her comments hit home. I am angry, and I don't know what to do about it. And then there's the mystery of this girl. I hope she knows what she's getting into and Bianca isn't trying to set a trap for me to fall in love. I'm not ready for that. Not sure if I ever will be. But I'll make sure she knows that when we meet. In the meantime, all I can do is eat my lunch and try to brace myself for the war zone when I get back to the office.

  3

  Sally

  When the phone chimes I open my eyes. I've been lying in bed since I got home, kind of sleeping, kind of not. The adrenaline really took it out of me, but also the overwhelming knowledge that I no longer have a job. It's not like I really wanted to be working at a chocolate cart, but it was comfortable and easy. Now I'm not sure what I'm going to do.

  I grab for my phone at the nightstand, and my eyes go wide. It's Bianca. I honestly didn't think I'd be hearing from her today, or ever, really. She didn't want to give me her number, I could tell that. I was going to reach out once I had saved up enough money to pay her back. That could have taken months though. I swipe the message open.

  Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?

  Not exactly what I was expecting, then again I don't know what I was expecting. The last thing I want to do is admit that I'm a pathetic loser who's staying home alone and getting drunk on Valentine’s Day. Is there something I can say that would be believable? What kind of plans would I have? I could say I have a boyfriend, but that would probably not work. Bianca saw what a spaz I am. No one's going to believe that I have a boyfriend after watching that fiasco. The second thought hits. Is she hitting on me? I mean, that would be flattering, but she's not my type.

  Ugh, I finally decide that the truth is the best answer, however sad that is.

  Sadly, no, I don't. I have an appointment at home with my bottle of vodka.

  The answer comes immediately.

  Excellent, I have a proposition for you. And proposition I don't mean sex.

  Okay...

  My family is hosting a Valentine’s Day party and my brother hasn't had time to secure a date. My mom is insisting he bring one. I would love for you to go with him. This would completely erase any debt you think is between us. In fact, I might owe you one. That's how badly we need this.

  I freeze. A blind date, that's what she's asking me for? I don't even have the chance to type anything when another message comes throug
h.

  I swear, my brother isn't a troll. He's a good looking guy and he's not that much of a pervert.

  There's a winking smiley face attached to that, and finally,

  I'm kidding. But really, he's a great guy. What do you say?

  A blind date? The blind dates that I have been on before haven't exactly instilled confidence in me that this guy is attractive. And I could say no. I could pass and just say I'd rather give her the money. There's no way she can force me to say yes. But this seems so easy. Go to a party and not have to worry about paying her back? Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good deal. Besides, if I said no, I'd feel guilty. It sounds like this is something that she really needs, even though it's a little weird that someone would need a date for a party that badly.

  There's one other thing that I try to push out of my mind, because it definitely shouldn't be the reason I say yes. And that's that if I say yes, I'll have a date on Valentine’s Day. For the first time ever. It doesn't even matter to this part of my brain that this date would be with a stranger. I want that. I want to be a girl who has plans on Valentine’s Day. And so I find myself typing.

  Okay, I can do that. Is there a dress code for this party?

  If you can make it today at four-thirty, you can meet my brother at his office. That way you guys can meet face to face first, and he can give you all the details.

  Today?

  Yeah, today.

  It's only one o'clock now, and I don't have anything stopping me from going except nerves.

  Okay.

  Perfect! I'll let him know. I'll text you the address. His name is Eric Marshall, and don't worry, you'll have a pass at the building and everything.

  What kind of office is this exactly? She sends me the address, and a final message.

  Good luck! I think you'll have a good time. Eric is a great guy, you'll see!

  Thanks.

  I toss my phone on the bed and sigh. What do you wear to go meet the blind date you've been set up on before the blind date? I have no freaking clue, but if I'm going to a high-power office, I better make sure I look good. Heaving myself off the bed, I head toward my closet and get ready for a marathon session of trying things on.

  I opt for a simple dress and my prettiest coat. It would be nice if I didn't have to wear a coat, it would make a better impression I think, but it's February and I'm not crazy. Simple understated make-up, and I've left my hair down. I've always thought that I had good hair, and I took the time to poof it up and give it some volume and some waves before I leave my house.

  The fact that I'm actually doing this...I can't believe it. It's very unlike me. I always talk about how I want to be swept off my feet but if I'm honest, I usually play it pretty safe. The fact that I said yes means that I'm getting desperate or that I'm changing. I'm not sure which one I want it to be. Both are kind of terrifying.

  The office building that my Uber pulls up to isn't just some basic office building, it's a freaking skyscraper. Daunting with shining glass covering what must be thirty or more floors, and the marquis on the building tells me exactly where I am. Marshall Greetings. As in the biggest greeting card company on the planet. And my date's name is Eric Marshall. Holy shit, am I going on a date with the guy who owns this company? If I am, he has to be worth millions. This is definitely not going to be your everyday blind date, and this Valentine’s Day party isn't going to be the simple backyard affair that I was imagining. No, this is going to be huge. Oh. My. God.

  Walking into this lobby has me dizzy. The entrance is three stories tall, and entirely white marble. There's a dazzling, glittering rectangular chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and I have to stop and stare upward because it's so beautiful. But that's when I notice that the security guards at the desk are staring at me. Right.

  I walk up to them and pretend that I'm confident, plastering a huge smile on my face. "Sally Landing," I say. "I was told I would have a pass?"

  The guard doesn't even speak, just refers to his list and then opens a drawer and hands me a visitors badge on a cord that I place around my neck. He points to the left. "Elevators are that way. Top floor. Scan the badge."

  The click of my heels on the marble is loud as I walk away from them, scan my badge to get past some turnstiles, and then again to get into an elevator. The pass seems to know where I'm going, because I don't even have to press any buttons. It starts moving as soon as the doors close, giving me that particular sensation of vertigo that fast-moving elevators do.

  There's a small chime as I reach the thirty-fifth floor, and the doors open to an office space that seems like it should be in a movie. It's large and open with huge windows overlooking the city. There are several seating areas artfully arranged with plants and glossy magazines, and the art is tastefully beautiful while not being obtrusive. A large desk stands in front of me and a gorgeous woman with blonde hair twisted up in an intricate knot looks me up and down. "Can I help you?"

  I swallow. "Yes," I say. “I'm here to see Eric Marshall.”

  She raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down again. With a few clicks, she checks something on the computer, and stands. "Follow me."

  My shoulders tense. She doesn't seem too friendly, and the further I walk into the office, I notice it's stiffness. We pass a few offices with people working, and no one is smiling. They look angry or focused, and the atmosphere is almost painfully quiet. Who am I about to meet? What kind of boss makes an office environment like this?

  But Bianca said that he's a good guy. Granted, he's her brother so she has to say that, but I'll give him a chance. That's when I hear the yelling. A deep voice, forceful and commanding, shouting. I can't make out the words yet, but they're definitely coming from the direction that we're walking. Oh, no.

  The receptionist rounds a corner, and suddenly I see a huge office with walls of glass, and a tall man bent over a desk with a phone to his ear. He's yelling into it. "No, I told you yesterday that that was unacceptable, and you agreed. How is it possible that in the last twenty-four hours you have forgotten that? The last thing I need right now is incompetence."

  He is handsome, even though his face is twisted with anger. Eyes are dark, and I can see the resemblance between him and his sister. Though I think being pinned by his stare would be a lot more overwhelming, and Bianca’s stare is no joke. His suit fits him perfectly, and I can tell even though he works here, he doesn’t skimp on gym time. The glass etching next to the door says ‘CEO.’ I was right. The receptionist knocks on the door lightly, but he doesn’t stop. “Fix it, Edward, or I swear it will be your head on a platter.”

  She knocks again, and he looks up, his eyes locking instantly on me, and I see a little bolt of surprise go through him. I realize that the receptionist is gone, and I’m left alone with Eric Marshall, and he doesn’t seem to be able to stop staring at me.

  4

  Eric

  Holy shit. The person in front of me is nothing like I expected. In my mind I had imagined one of Bianca's friends, polished and primped within an inch of her life, with so much make-up and hairspray on that she carried a cloud with her. And they're beautiful, but this woman is like a breath of fresh air. The way her dark hair falls around her shoulders is simple, and everything she's wearing is understated and elegant. There's an innocence to her that calls to me, and I immediately feel the urge to take her in my arms and protect her. Because she looks delicate, like she might blow away if a breeze blew through the room.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I'm still on the phone, and Edward is still making excuses in my ear. "Fix it by the time I call you back," I tell him, and hang up the phone. "I'm really sorry that you walked in on that. I swear that's not usually the way I handle business calls. There was an emergency at one of our storage facilities in Pennsylvania and the last shipment of Valentine's cards hasn't gone out yet. If it's not fixed soon there are going to be a lot fewer selections for the people who buy cards last minute." I walk around the desk and approach her. "I'm
Eric."

  She reaches out and takes my hand, smiling, though it's shy. "Sally," she says. "You look a lot like your sister."

  I chuckle. "And you look nothing like my sister's usual friends. How did you meet?"

  For a second, Sally's mouth drops open as I guide her into the office and shut the door. "You mean she didn't tell you?"

  "Not a thing."

  She hesitates. "I uh...kind of almost killed her and then also saved her life."

  Sally outlines what happened, and I can't help but laugh. That's a great story, and also really explains why Bianca was late earlier today. "Well," I say, "I suppose it worked out for the best that she had a near death experience. Thank you for agreeing to do this."

  "It's no problem," she says, blushing, "I didn't have any plans."

  "I'm surprised by that."

  Her blush deepens, and I think I could be a little bit addicted to that color. "Bianca said you would let me know all the details, dress code and stuff. I mean, I didn't know who you were, so I assumed I was just going to a party at someone's house. Now I'm not sure I have anything fancy enough for a party like this."

  I wave a hand. "I'll take care of that. My mother just decided to tell me at the last minute that she was throwing a party, and my showing up to the party alone would...cause some tension in our family. Since this is our busiest time of year, I didn't exactly have time to find a date on my own. Bianca to the rescue."

  "Yeah." The sun is setting and the lights in the cityscape are starting to show. "That's a really great view."

  "You're welcome to look closer," I say.

  Sally springs up immediately, pressing her palms and her nose to the glass. I can see her breath fog slightly on the cool surface and my gaze is drawn from her mouth to her neck down across her body to the way her ass is sticking out just a little. God, she's sexy, and I'm feeling far too warm, far too close to being hard and her thinking that I'm some sex-crazed CEO that only wants her for sex. Calm down, Eric.