“What?” Sayler asked. What did he mean? Did he need her to work some extra hours? She couldn’t think of anything she’d left undone or he had pending that would require it.
“Tomorrow night,” he said. “I’ll pay you time and a half if you’ll go with me to that stupid Bennett Ball.”
Sayler’s heartbeat increased with simultaneous excitement and disappointment. Disappointment in the knowledge he didn’t want to endure the event and saw her as an easy fix if he must. Excitement at the idea of spending an evening with him.
“It wouldn’t be a date or anything,” he continued, adding insult to injury, “just…just work. Overtime.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said, unable to look up at him. “You’d rather pay me time and a half than to deal with asking someone to go with you?”
“I am asking,” he said. “I’m asking you.”
“You’re offering to pay me…to pay me to be your escort,” Sayler said, removing a paperclip from her desk drawer and slamming it shut. Didn’t he consider her a friend at least? Did he really think she wouldn’t go with him just as a favor to a friend if nothing else?
“Well now, that makes it sound bad,” he said. She started to walk away from her desk, but he caught her arm. “You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he told her when she finally looked at him.
“I…I know,” she lied. “I was just teasing you.”
But he frowned at her, seemed to be intently studying her expression.
He still hadn’t released her arm when he asked, “Will you go with me if I offer not to pay you time and a half?” Sayler was still hurt, still wondering who the mystery woman his brother had mentioned was. “I won’t pay you at all. I’ll just take advantage of our friendship. Would you go with me then?”
“I-I don’t know,” Sayler stammered, unnerved by his touch, still aching from his offering to pay her.
“Would you, could you, Sayler Christy?” he asked. “Just say yes and make me misty.” Sayler smiled then, unable not to at his bad attempt at rhyme.
“Dr. Seuss you are not, Mr. Booker,” she told him. She giggled as he shrugged.
“Come on,” he said, still holding her arm. “It’ll be fun.”
“Fun? You’ve hated this thing forever!” she reminded him. “You were pouting about it three years ago even, if memory serves.”
He released her arm and sighed. “Look, Sayler,” he began, “I know it’s above and beyond the call of duty. I’m sure some Human Resources person somewhere would have a fit about it too…but you have to go with me. I don’t want to go, but I have to. And if I have to go, I might as well drag you into misery too.”
“Gee thanks,” she said. She smiled at him, however. He was too wonderful to refuse. Even for his selfish reasons, his bumbling in asking her to help him out, he was still too beautiful, too wonderful to refuse.
“Come on, Sayler,” he pleaded. “I’ll even buy you a new dress for the occasion.”
Sayler giggled, delighted at the thought of Bo Booker buying her something as extravagant as a formal dress or gown. Still, she shook her head. “You don’t have to buy me a new dress. I’ll repel into the depths of misery with you, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want it,” he told her. “But I still want to buy you a new dress. It’s the least I can do.”
“So instead of paid-for escort, I’ll be a kept woman,” she teased.
“Exactly,” he said, picking up the phone on her desk. He pushed a button and said, “Diane? Yeah, it’s Bo. Do I have any petty cash out there?”
“Bo,” Sayler said, shaking her head.
He held an index finger up, gesturing she shouldn’t argue with him.
“I do?” he asked. “How much?”
“Bo,” Sayler tried to interrupt again. But Bo frowned and shook his head once more.
“Okay. Sayler’s going to pick it up in a minute. Thanks, Diane.” He hung up the phone and smiled. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together triumphantly. “You’re going shopping!”
“Bo, I am not going to—” Sayler began.
“Look, Sayler,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “You are doing me an enormous favor. You have no idea. It’s a last-minute thing that has, no doubt, inconvenienced you. So let me do something nice in return. You don’t want me to pay you…okay. But at least let me buy the dress. The Bennett Ball is a fancy-smancy thing, and you’ll need a formal.”
“But…but…” Sayler stammered.
Bo shook his head and turned her around. “But nothing. Diane will have an envelope for you at the front desk. Just spend whatever you need to. Don’t even come back today—I feel bad enough about asking you to do this for me. Just go buy a pretty dress, some shoes, and whatever girls need for this kind of thing.”
“Bo, I can’t possibly—” she began.
“Be quiet,” he ordered. “Go buy a dress, and tomorrow night we’ll go to the stupid Bennett Ball. Maybe it will even be fun.”
“Mr. Booker, I cannot take your money and…and…”
She was silent, her voice lost, thoughts forgotten as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Maybe they’ll even play our song.” The feel of his breath on her neck, his mouth so close to her ear, was euphoric. It caused her body to prickle with goose bumps, and she forgot every argument she had against spending his money.
“Wh-what?” she breathed. His hand still on her shoulders, he turned her to face him once more.
“You’ve forgotten our song?” he said, frowning dramatically, feigning emotional injury. “Tisk, tisk, tisk,” he said, unexpectedly taking her waist and hand in waltz position. Leading her in a slow waltz, he said, “Our song is ‘Ooh Baby Baby,’ and our book is Green Eggs and Ham. I cannot believe you’ve forgotten that.”
He remembered. He must! He remembered their dancing together when he’d been at the Center three years before, when he’d been anxious about the Bennett Ball once before. Sayler smiled, trying to act only amused as opposed to completely elated.
“You’re hilarious!” she told him, giggling with delight.
“Yes. Often,” he said. He released her then, smiled, and said, “Now go buy a dumb dress for the dumb Bennett Ball with your dumb boss.”
“But I can’t,” Sayler began to argue. “I can’t just—” She was silent again as Bo slipped one hand to the back of her head, covering her mouth with his other. Sayler thought she might faint! She was entirely affected by his handling her in such a manner. It was fabulous!
“I’m your boss, and I’m telling you to go buy a dress. Got it?” he asked. Sayler nodded, and he released her. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. Take the whole day today. Okay?”
“But I—” she began.
“Okay?” he repeated firmly.
“I-I—” she stammered.
“Goodbye, Sayler,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned then and headed down the hall toward Joey’s office.
What could she say? He was her boss, and he’d told her to go buy a new dress for the Bennett Ball.
Sayler remained in a state of utter disbelief long after she had picked up the envelope Diane handed her as she passed the front desk.
Sitting on one of the benches in front of the fountain in the courtyard, she opened the envelope and nearly dropped dead when she saw the stack of one-hundred dollar bills inside.
“Oh my heck!” she muttered. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t possibly be expected to simply purchase a formal gown and attend the Bennett Ball with her boss. Still, she bit her lip and smiled, elated Bo had remembered their dancing at the Center so long ago. He remembered the song even! It was wonderful to think of, for the incident had obviously meant something to him, even if it was simply that it was amusing.
Sayler hopped up from the bench and put the envelope of money in her purse. She would find a dress—a fabulous dress! The sort of dress that might give her the chance of capturing Bo’s attention, if even for a moment. She sighed at the
thought of dancing with him again, being held in his arms. She was dangerously in love with Bo Booker. But she would worry about that later. She would enjoy the Bennett Ball with him first. Yes, she would worry about her heart breaking later.
“Where’d you send Sayler?” Joey asked. “I was going to see if I could borrow her for a donut run, but Diane said she left.”
“She’s…uh…she’s shopping,” Bo said. He didn’t look up at his brother right away but continued to study the blueprints spread out in front of him.
“Shopping? For what?” Joey innocently asked.
“For a formal gown. She’s going with me tomorrow night,” Bo admitted.
“Nice!” Joey exclaimed. “So you finally got up the nerve to ask her? I told you she’d go with you.”
“I…I did ask her…in a roundabout way, though,” Bo said. He sighed and looked to his brother. “I kind of offered to pay her overtime first.”
“What? Are you an idiot?” Joey asked, completely irritated.
“Yeah, I am. But then you already know that,” Bo said, picking up the bottle of water on his desk and drinking from it. “She’s under my skin, man. I can’t handle it.”
“What’s there to handle?” Joey asked. “You’ve been hot for her since you were in that rehab center. She was young then, sure. But she’s all grown-up now. So what’s the problem?”
“I…I don’t know,” Bo admitted. “I guess I’m just a little freaked out. She’s really got me twisted up.”
Joey chuckled. “Good. It’s about time. But I will tell you this,” Joey began, “Don’t mess around, Bo. Just reach out and take hold, man. Don’t drag it out for two years like I did with Ashley.”
“It ain’t like that, Joey,” Bo said.
“You mean it ain’t like that yet,” Joey said, smiling. He patted Bo’s back. “Don’t worry, bro…she’s as messed up on you as you are on her. It’s obvious.”
“To who?” Bo asked. An odd sort of panic seeped into his soul. He didn’t want Sayler’s reputation at the office tarnished in any way. He didn’t want his feelings for her to cause trouble.
“To me, man. Just me. I know you better than anyone else. I can read you. But don’t worry, it’s my gift. Not everybody else’s,” Joey explained.
Bo nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, bro—just don’t string it out too long. Move in fast, and close the deal. Ashley’s driving me nuts about setting you up with a friend of hers.”
Bo smiled and chuckled. “All right, all right. Just keep Ashley’s friends at bay, man. I can’t take any more of that.”
“You got it, man. See you later,” Joey said as he left Bo’s office.
“Later,” Bo said.
Bo put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands. What was the matter with him? Why had he spent almost a month fidgeting over the Bennett Ball? Why had it taken him almost a month to ask Sayler to go with him? Furthermore, why hadn’t he simply asked her instead of going about it in the underhanded, cowardly manner he had?
He was freaked out, that’s why! Three years before, he’d had the obvious upper hand. She’d been a teenager, intimidated by him. He’d been in control of every minute they’d spent together. Whether it was playing cards, reading Dr. Seuss, or dancing to Linda Ronstadt in his pajama bottoms, he’d fueled it all. But from the moment he’d first seen her walking across the courtyard in her little business skirt suit—he’d lost it. From the moment she first smiled at him the day he’d hired her, she’d been in control. Furthermore, he was certain she didn’t even have a clue!
Bo grimaced as he thought of the look on her face when he’d offered to pay her overtime to go to the ball with him. He’d back-paddled, sure. But the damage had been done. He’d hurt her feelings, and he was sick about it.
He raised his head, rubbing at his whiskers. She was so beautiful! Every day it was all he could do to resist pulling her into his office, locking the door, and having his fill of the taste of her mouth. He’d found he had to touch her every day—physically in some way he had to touch her. And he wondered how long he could resist having the feel of her in his arms, resist that almost undeniable urge to pull her into his office as he imagined and kiss her like she’d never been kissed.
Well, bumbling or not, he’d managed to talk her into going to the Bennett Ball with him. He just hoped he could make the evening endurable. What if it was a miserable time? Then she’d write him off as an idiot for sure. No. He’d make it memorable. Somehow he’d show her his cards. Perhaps not all of them, but a few.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the vision of Sayler Christy lingering in his mind. It was no use, however, and he smiled sometime later when he realized he’d been whistling “Ooh Baby Baby” for the past fifteen minutes.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Calm down, Sayler!” Monica said as Sayler fidgeted in her chair. “You’ll be sweating like a horse by the time he gets here. I haven’t spent an hour on your hair for you to sweat it to ruin before he even sees it. I’ve spent my entire Friday night primping you up.” Monica smiled as she tucked one final bobby pin into place. “Besides, we want him to have the chance to mess it up, you know, in the heat of passion.”
“Monie!” Sayler scolded, thrilled by the idea all the same. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Of course you can,” Monica said. “There now. Take a look.”
Sayler turned in her chair to see herself in her bedroom mirror. She smiled, pleased with the soft updo hairstyle Monica had coifed. A simple French twist, it gave Sayler an air of maturity and glamour.
“Will it hold?” she asked.
“With fifty-seven bobby pins, it should,” Monica said. “Now, here,” she added, plucking several tissues from the box on the vanity. “Pat your armpits with this. You’re all nervous, and I know you—you’re sweating.”
Sayler sighed. Snatching the tissues from Monica, she reached down the front of her dress. Pressing the wad of tissue to each armpit in turn, she shook her head.
“Help me to calm down, Monie,” she begged. “I’m a nervous wreck!”
“Well, you’re a beautiful nervous wreck,” Monica giggled. “Stand up now and let me see the entire, dramatic effect.”
Sayler rolled her eyes and smiled. “You’re ridiculous,” she giggled.
“No, I’m not!” Monica argued. “You look just like a living Barbie doll! Except you’re a brunette. I love this dress!”
“I do too,” Sayler admitted. She couldn’t help smiling at herself. She had no doubt every other dress at the Bennett Ball would be more expensive, more elaborate than her own, but she didn’t care. She loved it.
She allowed herself a moment of pride as she studied herself in the mirror. The gown was iridescent black, with a few pearlized rhinestones littered here and there, which caught the light, sparkling like diamonds. The fitted mermaid silhouette cut of the gown and train and the sweetheart-shaped bodice combined to show off her figure perfectly. Dangling from her ears and at the hollow of her throat were simple zirconium earrings and a floating matching necklace. Black ankle-strapped heels completed the look. For the first time in her life, Sayler felt alluring, almost beautiful.
“And we thought we looked so good at prom,” Monica said, shaking her head.
“We did,” Sayler assured her. “We’ve just grown up a bit, that’s all.”
Sayler startled as the doorbell sounded.
“Oh my heck! I’m not ready! I can’t do this! I can’t, Monie!” she panted.
Monica took hold of her shoulders, smiling as she said, “This will be the night of your life, Sayler. At least to this point. Don’t let your nerves blow it for you.”
Sayler nodded, swallowed hard, and inhaled a deep, calming breath.
“I’m just glad Mom and Dad aren’t here. Christian too. I think I’d pass out if I had to answer the door with anybody watching,” she said.
“Well, go on down. Don’t leave him waiting,” Monica said. �
�I’ll keep hidden at the top of the stairs. Now go!”
Sayler inhaled and exhaled one last deep breath of courage and then quickly descended the stairs. She opened the door quickly, before she could chicken out, to see an astonishingly handsome Bo Booker standing before her. He was sharply dressed in a tux, and she loved the way he stood with his hands in his pants pocket as if he wore no more than a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She smiled, thinking of the old calendar upstairs under her bed. She’d always dreamed of seeing Bo Booker in a tux. And there he stood.
“Whew!” he breathed, his eyebrows raised in dumbfounded approval as he studied her from head to toe. Sayler had been so captivated by Bo’s appearance she’d completely forgotten about her own. “Man, I thought you were hot at the office!” he breathed, still looking her up and down with astounded approval.
She knew he was just being nice. Still, his reaction, whether completely unrehearsed or not, pleased her.
“You look very dashing,” she told him in response.
“What? This old thing?” he said, tugging at one jacket lapel.
Bo looked Sayler up and down again and chuckled. Rubbing his chin, he mumbled, “Man, I’m in trouble.” He felt overheated, like he couldn’t inhale a deep enough breath. He wanted to reach out, grab her, pull her into his arms, and take her mouth with his own.
Instead, he managed to find a shred of good behavior, offered his arm to her, and said, “Shall we?”
Sayler smiled, delighted by his chivalrous mannerisms. She placed a trembling hand on his offered arm and walked with him to the limo waiting at the curb.
“I think they thought I’d be more likely to attend if they sent a limo for me,” he explained. He opened the door for her, and she gracefully slid into the seat. In another few seconds, he’d entered on the other side. He smiled at her as he closed the door behind him. “You ready?” he asked, smiling at her.
She was struck silent for a moment, awed by the dazzle of his smile, his proximity.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she said, at last.
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