Chapter 11
Amber
We’ve been playing this little game of him brushing my fingers every time he takes a strand of tinsel from me. I gotta say I’ve been enjoying it. We have the ballroom about half done when he takes a strand of tinsel, brushes my fingers, and we smile at each other. Then my stomach growls.
I could die. I have really been having fun with this guy, and... I dunno, it’s just been a morning, well, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon, and I’ve been working since I got here at seven. Still, it’s only been a few hours, but... I really like him. He’s fun and yet not goofy. He’s intelligent but not so serious that I don’t feel like I can talk to him. And there is this attraction between us that I’m pretty sure is mostly because of his character and the way he treats me.
“It’s time to break for lunch,” he says.
My cheeks must be sixteen shades of red, but he gently pulls the tinsel from my hands, somehow getting it from me and holding it in one hand while wrapping his fingers around mine, and before I know it, we’re holding hands.
“Eat lunch with me?” he says.
At this point, I’m pretty sure if he asked me to go slop the hogs, I would happily skip out on all of my duties to go help him.
I lift my shoulders. “I didn’t even think about bringing lunch. It was so last-minute, and I wasn’t expecting to eat.”
“I know people who know people. I’m pretty sure I can grab some food in the kitchen. If I have any experience in this type of thing, they’ve made a few things for tomorrow that didn’t quite turn out, and they’d be more than happy to have us help them get them off their hands.”
He knows people who know people? Maybe he’s higher up on the totem pole than what I was expecting. I... I’m not sure what I thought he did around here. Nothing to do with the party, that’s for sure, otherwise he would never have had an entire day open just to help me.
“Don’t you have work you need to do?” I ask as he leads me out of the ballroom, tugging on my hand a little as I slow, concerned that I’m taking him from something and he’s going to get in trouble.
“I work on the business end of things. I have a couple of phone calls I need to make, but otherwise, I’m totally free.”
I smile and trust him.
His eyes twinkle, and he says, “I didn’t realize until I heard your stomach growl how bad I’m starving.”
“I’ve been thinking about food for a while,” I admit sheepishly. “That’s probably why my stomach was growling in protest.”
“Is there anything you’re allergic to?” he asks as he leads me down the hall and then down some stairs. I should have known the kitchen was deep in the belly of the beast. Although, as we come out from the stairwell, I can smell the food, and I’m grateful that I haven’t had to work in that scent all day. I would have been unable to think of anything except food.
“Nope. I can eat anything, and often do.”
He laughs at my attempt at humor. Every time we share laughter together, it makes me feel like we’re drawing closer and closer. Almost as much as our conversations which have been more on deeper things, things I enjoy talking about, rather than surface things like weather, and that’s a good thing.
“All right, you stay here. I’ll go in and see what I can swipe.”
I nod as his fingers let go, and mine slowly slip out of his grip. I feel the loss, but I also feel something that’s a little nagging. Why could I not go in too? Maybe they have some kind of sanitary guidelines, but it just seems a little bit odd that I’m standing outside.
I shrugged the thought away. I’m being silly, and I enjoy the smell of the food while he slips in the kitchen door.
I think I smell a little bit of chlorine; is it possible there is an indoor pool down here somewhere?
That seems a little...much even for a billionaire, but really, is anything much for a billionaire?
I haven’t run out of things to think about or look at, including the fancy lights that line the hall, the closed doors which make me wonder what in the world is behind them, and the sound of laughter and chatter in the kitchen, before he comes out, holding a plate in each hand.
“Flora never disappoints,” he says with a wicked glint in his eye.
I assume Flora must be the cook.
“Come on. We have to go up two flights of stairs, but there is a beautiful sitting room on the second story that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Are we allowed up there?” I ask, not wanting to get in any trouble. I’m thrilled that I’m going to get done, but I don’t want some kind of indiscretion to jeopardize my chances of getting more jobs. Although, the idea of eating lunch with Daniel almost overrides my natural reticence.
“I’m not going to take you anywhere where you’re going to get in trouble or jeopardize your future here.” It’s like Daniel can read my mind. I haven’t even talked about it that much.
I look a little guilty. “Let me carry the food at least,” I say, trying to reach for it
He shakes his head. “I’ve got it. I have two waters in my back pocket and utensils in my other back pocket. There’s dessert, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re carrying, but it smells amazing, and I imagine I could eat all of that and still have room for dessert.”
“Well, I hope you do, because Flora is going to be bringing a selection of them up to the sitting room in about thirty minutes.” He pauses on the stairs and glances over at me. “We do have thirty minutes to eat, don’t we?”
“I wasn’t going to make you scarf it down fast, but I was going to try to hurry. Thirty minutes seems perfect.”
Actually, it doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to spend with him, but I don’t say that.