Love Love

by Beth Michele

  The week flew by and it’s already Monday. I wish the company party were on a Friday, but what can you do? This is the first year I’m attending and I hear it’s awesome. It feels like a bit of a privilege, especially given the value I place on my importance at the firm; very little. Colleagues, clients, and even celebrities attend; it’s pretty extravagant. A colleague told me that last year she saw Brad Pitt, which is wild. She stared at him the entire night, but I’m pretty sure he’s used to it.

  It’s my first work party and I don’t have a date. Well, I do, and it’s Fran, which is okay. We get to dress up, drink champagne, and drool over hot guys. I can’t think of anything better to do with my best friend. And I get to wear the dress Fran coerced me into buying at Bloomingdale’s.

  After I’m dressed, I glance at myself in the full-length mirror. My nerves are on end because I’m not used to wearing clothes this revealing. I practically feel naked. My only saving grace is that I leave my hair down so it’s sleek, shiny and straight. It lands on my breasts and covers up some skin. The silky fabric of the dress falls just past my clean-shaven thighs; shorter than I normally wear, but not so short that someone will have a heart attack if I bend over.

  I hear my mother and father in my head. Dear, your private parts should not be on public display like that, it will attract the wrong type of person; like Clark. Sitting down on my bed, I put my head in my hands. My mother’s an idiot. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Clark was exactly the right type of person.

  I try to gather my thoughts and rekindle my excitement for the night. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Fran obviously thinks I need it and maybe she’s right. When I walk out of my room, the sight of her jars me from any wayward thoughts. She looks absolutely stunning in a short, black, fitted, off-the-shoulder dress, complemented by red stilettos. Her black hair is pinned up in a messy bun and her makeup dramatic.

  “Fran, you look gorgeous.” I’m consistently blown away by her beauty.

  She gives me the once over and it appears she approves. “You look beautiful, Gabby! Really sexy! In fact, you might even get yourself laid tonight.”

  Fran and her one track mind.

  The party is being held at the gorgeous W Hotel in Union Square. The event is attended by about two hundred people. Clients, employees, and local celebrities flock to the party every year. As we arrive at the W, I’m instantly pleased that Fran suckered me into buying this dress. The women look stunning, and the guys, well, they’re seriously mouth-watering. Photographers are snapping pictures left and right. If there was a red carpet, I’d think we were at The Oscars.

  Fran looks over at me with a wide smile. “Let’s rock this joint.”

  We wave to cameras and keep an eye peeled for celebrities as we walk into the party and check in. The Landon & Castell party is nothing if not exclusive.

  We’re immediately blown away by the ballroom. It’s decorated in blues and silvers, with sparkly crystal chandeliers over each table and overflowing vases of lilies and irises in the center. Ice sculptures surround the room, the lighting is dim, and there are several small circular candle holders on each table, adding to the ambience. Soft jazz plays in the background; it’s actually quite romantic and makes me feel a bit melancholy.

  Fran grabs us champagne and hors d'oeuvres and I introduce her to several of my colleagues and a couple of our clients. She’s a bit disappointed that none of them are single, as her main goal of every outing is to find a man.

  When we move away to find our table assignment, I fix her with a stern look and raise a finger. “Fran, you can’t, and I repeat can not, flirt with any of my clients.” That could get me in trouble. Trouble is Fran’s middle name.

  She grins. “Who, me? I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  Soon I’m feeling good and slightly buzzed. The guys are making the rounds to see my cleavage tonight, so I must’ve done something right. It’s nice for a change, and boy, would it piss off my mom. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

  There are some pretty cute guys at work, but I remember Fran telling me she got involved with someone in her office and it ended terribly. That’s a whole ball of shit I’m not interested in rolling in.

  We’re having a great time, eating lobster stuffed pastries, sautéed mushrooms, and other delights that waiters are bringing around on silver trays. The champagne is flowing freely. Fran hands me a glass and we link arms to begin our first round of the room. I trip over something invisible and nearly spill my drink all over my new dress. My face pales, my heart rate spikes, and my legs suddenly feel like jello. There he is again.

  Fran looks worried. “Gabby, what is it?”

  “Well…oh shit.” It’s pointless. My mouth goes limp as I watch him move gracefully towards us.

  Fran scans the room frantically to find the source of my unease. It doesn’t take her long to find the long legs, attached to the broad shoulders, attached to the fine hips, attached to the gorgeous face with the emerald green eyes.

  “Holy crap! You weren’t kidding. He is super hot! Gabby, he’s headed this way.”

  Just great. Unable to speak, I can only pray that drool isn’t running down the corners of my painted lips.

  He reaches us in long, quick strides. “I thought I recognized you from across the room, and I realized we were never formally introduced the other day. I’m Dane Rhodes.”

  His voice is smooth, like the finest of silks. After nothing but silence for several seconds, Fran elbows me and I realize I’d better open my mouth and say something. Like maybe proposition him for sex.

  “I’m Gabrielle Willis, and this is my friend, Fran Heller.” I feel his eyes cut through me like shards of glass and a thrill courses through my body. Suddenly, I’m grateful for Fran’s sense of style. A definite improvement over the yellow sundress and bushy ponytail he caught me in during our awkward encounter at The Brew House.

  After endless mutual staring, the smooth voice speaks. “So, what brings you two here?”

  “I work for Landon & Castell, and Fran is my date for the evening.” Oh my God, did I seriously just say that?

  “That’s hard to believe. I can’t imagine a gorgeous woman like you wouldn’t be able to find a date.” Okay, so he’s definitely flirting.

  Fran saves the moment and finally says, “So Dane, what brings you to this event?”

  “I’ve just signed on as a client with Landon & Castell. They’re going to be decorating my apartment on the Upper East Side. Now that I know you work for them, I’ll know where to find you.” Then, with a cock of his eyebrow, he says, “well, I’m going to mingle a bit. Nice meeting you both.”

  When he walks away, Fran and I use the moment to admire his extraordinary ass. I don’t know that I’ve ever called an ass extraordinary before, but well, it just is.

  Fran can hardly contain herself. “Gabby, he’s…he’s…well, he’s amazing! You weren’t exaggerating one bit. The images my mind is conjuring up right now. Oh, the things I’d like him to do to me...”

  “Okay, Fran. I get it. But remember, I saw him first.”

  Fran shakes her head and wrinkles her nose. “Screw you. What are we, in high school?”

  My mind drifts from Fran over to Dane for a moment. He’s a client with the firm. What are the chances of that? Does this mean I can’t go for him? I certainly didn’t pay enough attention in our employee orientation to know if this kind of thing would be against company rules.

  Fran and I make our way across the crowded room to one of the buffet tables and grab some more champagne. “Fran, don’t you think it’s odd that Dane was here? I mean, especially after our run in at the coffee shop. Doesn’t that seem a bit too coincidental?”

  She stops slurping and her eyes meet mine. “Does it really matter, Gabby? This is your chance. Look at it as a gift.”

  We’re having a great time laughing, drinking, and ogling. I’m so glad I brought Fran. When I look over at her, she tosses her hair back.

  “Check out our man
at three o’clock. Plaid tie, checkered pants, hungry look. He wants you.”

  I howl with laughter. “Fran, in this case, you can have first dibs. He’s all yours.”

  ***

  For some reason, I wake up very early the next day. In fact, when I look at the clock it’s only five a.m., which means I have two extra hours to stay in bed and daydream. Hmmm…a Dane Rhodes daydream perhaps. I wonder when I’ll see him again. Now that I know he’s a client of the firm, maybe I can make it happen. Determination is one quality I’m not lacking.

  I don’t realize I’ve fallen back asleep until I hear the annoying buzzer go off on my alarm clock. Pushing the hair out of my face, I will my legs over the side of the bed and take a moment to fully wake up. My head doesn’t feel too bad, given the amount Fran and I had to drink last night. Making my way out to the kitchen, I pull out a jug of Poland Spring, reach up for a glass from the cabinet, then listen to the glug, glug, glug of the water filling the glass. Maybe I am still a little drunk. I gulp it down and set the glass in the sink, dragging my ass to the bathroom and into a hot shower. My thoughts wander to Dane and I suds my body a little bit too much.

  When I get in the subway car, my mind continues to be consumed with all thoughts Dane. That is, until the wonderful odor of sweaty human bodies flies under my nose. Ugh. I take a seat, try not to touch anything, and basically shrink into myself to make sure no one comes near me. This is the only thing I don’t like about Manhattan. The daily dose of railings that are laden with fresh boogers, seats stained with God knows what, and strangers with bad breath hovering over me. Crap, I forgot my Purell!

  Arriving at the coffee shop for my much needed caffeine, Brad smiles at me from behind the counter. “Good morning, Gabby. Are you here to use the bathroom, or did you want coffee?”

  I can’t help but smile. “I didn’t realize you also moonlighted as a comedian. No to the first question, and yes to the second.” Since I’ve got some time this morning, I take a seat at one of the tables to review my to-do list for Robby.

  Brad brings my coffee over to the table. “You look especially cheerful this morning, Gabby. Does it have anything to do with that guy from the other day? Are you dating him or something?”

  "What makes you think my mood has anything to do with that?”

  "Just an educated guess.”

  "Okay, this is incredibly scary. Are you doing a mind meld on me?"

  "A mind meld? No, but the way you were looking at him the other day like you wanted to…” He stops and a tiny smile turns up one corner of his mouth. “Lick chocolate off his stomach or something. It was a dead giveaway."

  "Like I wanted to do what?"

  "You know...lick..."

  "Yeah, I heard you, no need for an echo."

  He stands up straighter and looks me square in the eye. "Well, I know how much you love chocolate."

  "And how did your brain conjure up that little deduction?"

  "You told me the first day I met you. Remember, when you were racked with indecision and clumsily spilled coffee all over my new cash register." He’s trying to hide his smile.

  The red creeps from my ears to my cheeks. "Thank you for the reminder of my most embarrassing moment. Oh wait, I forgot about the clogged toilet. That trumps it.”

  "Well, if that's your most embarrassing moment, I'd say you're doing pretty well."

  My eyebrows perk up. "Why, what's your most embarrassing moment?"

  "I'm not sure I can trust you with that information."

  A giant puff of air leaves my mouth. "Why not? I’m extremely trustworthy."

  He taps his long index finger against his full lips; a detail I just noticed. "Hmmm...I don't know, actually. This is pretty serious stuff. If anyone ever found out…"

  "Okay, you're killing me here, Brad...just spill it." I wave him into the chair across from me. “I won’t tell anyone. Cross my heart.”

  He shrugs his shoulders and sits down before continuing. "Okay…so I was about twelve at the time and waiting for my brother, Matt, to get home from school to go play basketball. I was pretty bored so I turned on the radio and the sound of Bob Seger's “Old Time Rock n Roll” filled the living room speakers. Something in me came alive, and I couldn't resist the temptation to strip down to my underwear and do my best Tom Cruise impression. Just when I started getting into it with the pretzel rod that came to life as my microphone, the door burst open and in walked my brother with his girlfriend, two of his friends, and a girl from school that I had a crush on at the time. Needless to say, hysterical laughter ensued and I ran up to my room, never to be heard from again.”

  Laughter bubbles up to the surface, but I try and force it down.

  "You can laugh. It's okay. Even though it was the most humiliating experience in my life, there's no disputing the humor in it."

  My face crinkles in laughter. "Okay, Brad, you got me. That totally beats the toilet incident. By a long shot."

  His eyes shine and that dimple pops right out. "Yup, it's hard to top that one." He laughs with me for a moment. He sounds even more relaxed and carefree when he does. “My brother reminds me of it. Often.”

  "What happened with that girl you liked?"

  "Absolutely nothing. It was a wash after that. Every time she saw me she broke into fits of laughter, and all her friends starting calling me Tommy."

  My lips turn down in a pout. "Oh, that's awful. Well, if it's any consolation, I would’ve thought you were cute. Definitely strange, but cute."

  His face breaks out into a huge smile. Holy cow, he's got a great one. Right out of a freaking Colgate commercial.

  ***

  Wednesdays are always ridiculously crazy. Happy Hump Day to me! Well, now that I think about it, it’s hump day for everyone else…except me. I definitely need to work on that. In addition to my regular assistant responsibilities, Robby has me picking up design plans and going out on a couple of client visits with him. This is one of the great things about my job. It gives me a change of pace from sitting in my creaky desk chair all day staring at the lovely four walls of my cubicle.

  I manage to make it to my desk without being too overwhelmed by yellow sticky notes, and I only have ten voicemail messages. It’s a banner day. Settling in, I manage to take one blissful sip of my Salted Caramel Mocha before Robby calls to me.

  “Gabby, dahling. Come in here a minute.”

  I hesitantly get up from my not-so-comfortable chair and make my way over to his office. The sun is shining through the windows casting a warm glow on his face that almost matches his orange silk shirt. A pencil sits atop his ear and he has his feet up on his desk per usual, looking very relaxed.

  “Good morning, Robby.”

  “Good morning, sweetie. So I hope all the sticky notes didn’t scare you.” He waves his hands in the air. “But you know me, whenever a thought pops into my head, I have to write it down.”

  I chuckle softly. “No problem. I’m good.”

  “Great! So we have a couple of clients to see today, and I believe there’s a new one on the schedule as well. Busy, Busy, Busy. Design, Design, Design.” He claps his hands. “Let’s get on with it.”

  I like Robby. He never makes me feel like a peon and always makes me laugh. My desk is piled with paperwork, and prioritizing is number one on my list today. We have about thirty minutes before our first meeting and I’m in the organizing zone. The stack of papers filled with design sketches Robby drew are piling up and filing them is essential. My phone rings, startling me, and I quickly answer it, almost dropping the receiver to the floor. “Gabrielle Willis.”

  On the other end I hear, “Hello, Gabrielle Willis, this is Dane Rhodes.” Then silence.

  I can’t seem to talk, but my body is responding to his silky voice. After a pause, I offer, “Hello.”

  “I just spoke with Robby, and apparently you’re supposed to pick up some design plans at my apartment today. I just wanted to find out what time you’d be here.”

  I am? I’m glad
someone decided to tell me that. “I’ll see you at two o’ clock.” Click. I hang up. I didn’t even give him a chance to say anything else. At this point, my name can be found right next to the word idiot in the dictionary.

  I can’t pay attention to anything Robby or the clients are saying, as I’m anxiously glancing at the clock non-stop. It’s like watching molasses drip from a spoon. It’s only noon. The lunch meeting is dragging and I can’t even think about food. It’s also not very appealing to listen to people talk as they’re chewing. Two more hours to go. I’m nervous and my mind is doing crazy Dane somersaults. All kinds of thoughts are going through my head. Dane obviously called and asked for me specifically. He must’ve been thinking about me, right? Must’ve wanted to see me again, or perhaps he just heard I’m a skilled assistant? I giggle. Perhaps he’s hoping I’m skilled in other ways, too.

  Robby glares at me. I guess my giggle was a little too loud. “Gabby, do you have anything you’d like to add?”

  My smile suddenly disappears and I put on my serious meeting face. “No.”

  Finally it’s 1:30. I gather my scattered wits and make my way to the ladies’ room for one last check. I’ve been in here four times in the past hour; I’m sure nothing has changed. I smooth my dress, brush my hair and tuck one side behind my ear, and reapply blush and a bit of lip gloss. That’s it. This is as good as it gets.

  As I make my way to Dane’s Upper East Side apartment, my heart is drumming against my chest. I haven’t been this nervous about anything in a long time. I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop. I wonder what he wants from me. I know what I want from him. Sex, with a capital S.

  Sweat is clinging to my palms, my pulse visibly racing through my heated skin. I’m having a hard time controlling my breathing as the elevator ascends to the twenty-seventh floor. So much for the time I spent in yoga class. I wring my hands repeatedly and slowly count to ten. When I finally get to ten, the elevator pings. Steadying my wobbly legs and wiping away the moisture trickling down my forehead, I head down the hall to apartment 27-F, attempting one last deep, calming breath before I ring the doorbell.