by Jolie Day
“We’re here.” Joel’s voice warmed her ear and his fingers burned the skin of her wrist. Both were gone before she could even turn her head, replaced by cold open space as Joel slipped out of the door, disappearing momentarily in a sea of brightly flashing lights. “You coming?” She heard him say, and then his large hand was reaching back in, his palm upturned, fingers spanning wide.
Avery took a deep breath as she reached out, placing her slender hand into his palm and felt the spark of electricity run up her spine as his fingers closed around hers. Joel tugged gently, helping her out of the car as Avery took hold of her skirt, keeping the dress straight as she took her first step onto the street. She was immediately blinded by the flash of dozens of cameras and deafened by what felt like thousands of voices, all yelling at her.
“Mr. Harper!” one of the few she could make out was saying. “Who’s your date this evening?”
Joel didn’t answer. Instead, she felt the pressure of his hand at the small of her back as he guided her down a carpeted walkway towards the banquet hall. With the flashes going off on either side of them, Avery couldn’t see much more than a pair of silver, glass-plated doors as they were opened by two large men in black suits.
One of them nodded at Joel. “Good to see you, again, Mr. Harper,” he greeted. “Miss.” The other nodded at Avery, wordlessly. She offered him a polite smile as Joel guided her inside.
Before the doors closed behind them, Avery heard a voice that stood out among the rest, carrying into the foyer with them. “Mr. Harper, what can you say about your mother’s illness? How is Elizabeth Harper?” He couldn’t have been expecting an answer, Avery knew, but perhaps just hoping for any kind of reaction.
And he got one.
As soon as his mother was mentioned, she felt Joel tense, his fingers digging into her bare back, though his steps never once faltered. She felt his chest move against her arm as he took a deep breath and one glance up at his face told her that he was making an effort not to let the question affect him. His jaw was tense and his lips were pressed in a firm line. Avery wanted so much to help him in some way, but she could think of nothing. So she just allowed him to lead her through another set of silver doors and into a rather sizeable ballroom.
She couldn’t keep the gasp from tripping off her lips and felt, more than heard, Joel’s chuckle as it vibrated down the left side of her body.
“Impressive, huh?” he murmured in her ear as he continued to steer her, his hand still very hot on her back, further into the room. That was a gross understatement, in Avery’s opinion. The banquet hall was huge. There were dozens of tables spread about, leaving enough space for waiters and other staff members to weave through without knocking into each other or any of the hundreds of guests milling about. In the center of the room, taking up about one-third of the space, looked to be a dance floor, though nobody was dancing. Instead, many of the elegantly-dressed businessmen and women were standing in small groups, drinking from Champagne glasses as they chuckled over whatever it was they were talking about. The women dripped with jewels and pearls and the suits on the men were all perfectly fitted.
A few photographers milled about, taking pictures and handing out business cards. One approached Joel and Avery, holding up a camera. “For the spread?” he asked. Joel glanced down at Avery, who nodded imperceptibly, and she saw a flash of something in his eyes, though his face remained impassive. He nodded to the photographer, who gave them a beaming grin as he backed up and held his camera up to his face. Joel turned toward him and Avery felt her breath stutter when he wrapped one arm around her midsection, his hand coming to rest on her right hip, pulling her more firmly against his body. She bit her lip for an instant before gazing up at the camera, as well, and prayed that the hunger she felt didn’t appear in her eyes or show up in the flush on her cheeks. She took a deep breath and gave the camera a small, elegant upturn of the lips. Professional, she hoped, despite how very unprofessional she felt with her boss’s arm wrapped around her waist. She picked up her chin a bit and the smile widened just seconds before the flash went off. Then another.
“Alright,” the photographer said, “I think I’ve got it. Thank you, Mr. Harper. And you, Miss…?”
“That’s enough,” Joel said, his arm still wrapped protectively around Avery’s waist as he guided her toward a table towards the center of the room. On their way, she spotted a few of her co-workers at another table—all dressed in attire similar to hers—and waved at them. A few waved back and a few just stared. Two women, whose names she didn’t know, turned to whisper to each other, their heads tilted together as their eyes flickering back to her for an instant, before returning to look at each other. Avery felt her cheeks burn, but she could do nothing about the gossip that would no doubt spread by Monday morning, so she just held on for the ride.
“Joel!” a familiar voice greeted. “Avery!” Turning her head forward, Avery’s lips turned up at the sight of Kara Nichols as she stood to greet them. Like Joel, Kara had broad shoulders and, though not as tall as her younger brother, her stature made Avery feel like she was standing next to an Amazon. The taller woman immediately pulled her in for a hug that was gentle despite her size, then held her at arm’s length. “Don’t you look absolutely gorgeous!” she gushed, giving Avery a wide, dimpled grin. She had the same deep blue eyes as Joel and they twinkled beneath a shimmering chandelier that hung just above their heads. Then her gaze flitted to Joel and her smile turned affectionate. “And my brother,” she sighed, reaching to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing his smooth jaw. “Handsome, as always.”
Joel grinned and pushed his glasses up his nose. “And my sister,” he replied, “equally as beautiful.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek.
“I would give you a kiss back,” Kara told him, “but I wouldn’t want to smudge my lipstick all over that chubby cheek of yours.” She cooed, pinching the skin between her thumb and forefinger. Joel just laughed and swatted her hand away, turning down to look at Avery.
“Shall I make the introductions?” he asked, looking between her and Kara. His sister nodded.
“Please.”
“Well, you know my sister, obviously,” Joel said. Avery smiled at Kara and nodded. “This handsome old man is her husband, Tom.” The man that stood up was in no way old (he may have actually been younger than Kara herself) and had dark brown hair with a spattering of gray just above his ears, though his face was virtually unlined. He was exactly the same height as Kara and he wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life, but he wasn’t bad to look at, either. His handshake was firm, but his hands were soft. “Tom, this is my assistant, Avery James.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss James,” Tom said. His voice was deep; as warm as his eyes.
“Likewise, Mr. Nichols,” Avery replied, giving him a nod and a polite smile.
The rest of the introductions went much more quickly. Most of their table was already sitting and nobody really wished to stand. Instead, they each nodded their heads as Joel introduced them and a few even gave Avery small nods. They all worked at Harper Images or one of the sister companies that was not run so much by the Harper family, but rather by a partner. Except one.
“Last, but not least,” Joel said, turning to a younger man (who fell somewhere between his age and Avery’s), “Antonio Juarez-Ramos.” This man stood up, offering Avery a dashing grin as he reached for her hand, bringing it up to his lips instead of shaking it. Avery felt the tips of her ears redden and it was suddenly difficult to swallow.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Juarez-Ramos,” she said, once she got past the lump in her throat.
“It is an absolute delight to meet you, my dear,” the man replied. “And please, call me JR. I never go by my full name.”
Avery nodded. “Of course,” she said. “And you can call me Avery.” She cleared her throat, turning to look at the rest of the table. “You can all call me Avery,” she clarified. “I prefer
it.”
“Avery,” JR echoed, tasting the name on his lips. “Beautiful.” Avery flushed and averted her gaze back to Joel. His face was once again impassive, but there was a tightness in his jaw that did not go unnoticed by her.
“Should we sit?” she asked him, placing her hand on his arm.
Joel nodded, curtly, and pulled out the chair closest to Kara, motioning for Avery to sit, before placing himself in the chair between she and JR. The other man still peeked around Joel’s back to catch a glance at her, sending Avery another charming grin. She felt her face heat up once more, but decided it best to ignore him as she turned, instead, to talk to Kara. They struck up a conversation about Kara’s children and Avery felt Joel slowly begin to relax next to her.
Before long, salads were placed in front of them and nearly everybody at the table was engrossed in tales about their own families. Most of the men were older than their wives and still had small children of their own, but there were a few older couples that could brag about their grandchildren’s first steps. One couple, however, didn’t add much to the conversation. The woman was young, though, and her husband was noticeably much older than she, so Avery thought that perhaps they didn’t have any children yet.
Still, there was no harm in including on the conversation.
“So, Emerson,” she said, addressing the young woman. “Any plans to have children soon?” She looked between the woman and her assumed husband, only to find the younger’s cheeks turn beet red.
“Oh,” Emerson said, “well I…I’m not even out of college yet, so no?”
“You better not be,” Mr. Hart said. “Your mother would have a heart attack.”
“Your…mother?” That was an odd thing to say, Avery thought as she knitted her eyebrows.
“Yes,” Mr. Hart confirmed. “She would kill us both if I let our daughter get herself knocked up before finishing school.” Avery’s eyes widened at that, quite noticeably and Emerson’s blush deepened in response.
“Oh no,” she said. “Did you think…? Oh gosh.” She practically buried her face in her salad, the blonde curls that framed her face, suddenly covering it like a curtain. Mr. Hart just laughed. Loudly.
“No, no,” he said. “We’re not married. I’ve been happily married to Emerson’s mother for over thirty years now. I’m no…oh, what do the kids call it today, Emmy? A cradle thief?”
“Cradle robber, Dad,” Emerson muttered.
“Yes,” Mr. Hart grunted. “That. No, I am just a loving father, whose wife was unable to make it tonight.”
“Oh, I hope Carol’s alright,” Kara said, frowning.
“She’s fine. Just got a new hip and doesn’t feel too much like moving around tonight, so Emmy’s stepped in.” He smiled fondly at his daughter, who continued to blush, embarrassed.
Avery was mortified. She reached for her fork and speared a piece of lettuce and tomato, practically shoving both in her mouth as she avoided the eyes of everybody else at the table—all of whom had already moved on to other subjects. When she felt a hand land on her knee under the table, Avery jumped, turning to Joel, who smiled, even as he remained focused on the conversation he was having with Mr. Marcus about…Avery had no idea what the conversation was even about. All she knew was the heat of Joel’s hand on her knee and the swipe of his thumb over the underside of her thigh.
And then it was gone, replaced with cold air. Avery swallowed an involuntary shiver and took another bite of her salad, then reached for the glass of water in front of her, taking a long, slow sip as she attempted to tune into the conversation nearest to her. Tom and one of the older men—Mr. Jones or Mr. Johnson; she couldn’t quite remember, but the two were sitting next to each other—were debating on the merits of gesture-based technology. Tom was for it, because it was handicap-accessible and Mr. Jones-Johnson was against it, stating that it would be too easy to mess up a basic function and not know how to fix it. They went back and forth like that for several minutes, while Kara looked bored out of her skull and even rolled her eyes at Avery, who couldn’t help but chuckle.
“While I see the merits in both,” she finally butted in, “I think we’re a long way off from technology that is purely controlled by hand movements. And, Tom, what about those that don’t even have the use of their hands? How does this help them?”
“It doesn’t, I suppose,” Tom replied. “But there’s always mind-controlled technology.”
“Now that is just absurd!” Jones-Johnson exclaimed, starting another argument. This time, Avery was rolling her eyes right along with Kara.
The conversations continued through their main course, with Avery observing more than taking part. Her ears tuned in all over the table (at which sat twelve people in total), picking up bits and pieces and offering input where it was warranted, and sometimes offering a bit of witty banter, at which the older gentlemen laughed. JR and Joel both sent her smiles from time to time, their eyes each holding something deeper. JR’s typically held heat or some kind of hunger that still sent shivers up Avery’s spine, but Joel’s…
Whatever was in Joel Harper’s eyes caused heat to bloom all over Avery’s body and she wanted so desperately to know just how he was doing that. And why it seemed to stop the second his gaze turned elsewhere. It took a sip of the ridiculously expensive wine to keep the shivers from overcoming her body. And even that didn’t always help.
When the main course was taken away, there was a sound like feedback and then a low voice filtered throughout the room: “Can I get everybody’s attention toward the dance floor?”
Avery turned in her chair, her back to Joel as she turned her gaze toward the middle-aged man standing in the center of the room, a microphone in his hand. He gave all his spectators a charming, toothy grin, turning all around so that they could each see it. He landed back facing Avery’s table, his smile still wide and his face obviously touched up. Avery wondered how many other men and women in this room had gotten the same work done to make themselves look…pretty? Young? She had no idea what he was attempting to “fix” about himself, but he looked like a middle-aged Ken doll.
“Thank you all,” he said, “for joining us at tonight’s Charity Gala for the Disenfranchised.”
“Most generic name ever,” Joel whispered in her ear and Avery was unable to hold in her laugh. She hid it with a cough into her napkin and turned to glare at Joel over her shoulder. His eyes twinkled with mischief. She turned back with a smile on her face.
“Before the festivities and enthralling discussion, I’m sure, continue, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our donors who are joining us tonight. As you should all be very aware, this gala is exclusive to the many, many locally-anchored branches of several technology companies and their employees. Not only do these companies donate hundreds of millions to several of our sponsored charities, but they also provide a glamorous night out for their employees. So let’s give a hand to these companies as I read them out right now. Feel free to applaud as loud as you want when yours is called upon. You’ve worked hard and earned that right.”
Avery applauded with everybody else as the man—whose name she must have missed—read from the list of names. She clapped especially hard when she heard Harper Images, especially when both Kara and Joel—the representatives of said company—stood and took turns bowing, which earned them a bout of laughter, as well.
After reading off the company names, the host named each of the charities that were being supported and what they were all about. He then encouraged all of the guests to make small donations wherever they could and motioned toward the far corner of the room, where several donation boxes were set up. “Every penny counts towards a better tomorrow,” he said, finally. “Now, I’m going to be quiet for a while as our DJ invites all of you out onto the dance floor for a little fun. Hit it, Mikey!”
Music began to play as he walked off the dance floor, allowing couples to filter onto it and begin a waltz to the slow music that had begun
to play.
Avery turned back to sit properly in her chair and smile at Tom as he led his wife out onto the dance floor, their fingers interlocked as Kara rested her cheek on his shoulder. She glanced to the side, at Joel, praying that he would be the one to break the silence and invite her to dance. Instead, he got into another heated discussion with Mr. Hart, while Emerson sighed and gazed around the room.
“Would you like to dance?”
Avery jumped and turned to see JR standing next to her seat, grinning at her as he held out his hand. She stared at it for a long moment, hesitant, then turned to see if Joel was paying attention. She could see the tension in his jaw and the line of his shoulders, but he didn’t turn or say anything to either of them—though Avery didn’t quite know what she expected him to say, really. He was her boss, but he couldn’t really keep her from dancing with somebody at a gala. Could he?
No, Avery decided, smiling back up at JR. He can’t.
She slipped her hand into JR’s and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her to the dance floor. She felt her dress fluttering around and behind her legs and she only turned to look over her shoulder once, meeting Joel’s eyes. He was watching her, intently, as she followed JR. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t exactly put a name to.
But it was dangerous.
Chapter Twelve
She was floating. Her feet barely touched the floor as JR guided her in a waltz, his hands warm on her body, heat blooming where their skin met. His cologne invaded her senses, tickling her nostrils and causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Avery wanted to bury her face into the crook of his neck and just stay there for a little while, but she resisted. Especially when she caught sight of Joel stepping out onto the floor with Emerson Hart’s hand held delicately in his.
