22. Chloe
22
CHLOE
I jumped, worried that Sean and Lucas were early.
I opened the door and peeked out.
A man was walking away, having dropped off a bunch of boxes on the doorstep.
I could read the words Saks Fifth Avenue on the boxes and realized that Sean had worked his magic again.
“I suspect,” I said, picking up the boxes and turning to Henry, “this is what I’m going to wear.”
Minutes later, in my room, I undressed and carefully, slowly slipped the blue silk gown on.
It was one of the contents of the first box.
The second box and third, I noticed, had heels in a couple of sizes.
One of them was my size, and it was black Manolo Blahnik stilettos.
The fourth box had diamonds—a glittering Chopard string necklace and drop earrings.
I gasped as I looked at them in my hands.
Real diamonds. Sean was …
out of his mind.
I turned to the mirror, and my jaw dropped at the sight.
My ears and neck glittered, and the added height from the stilettos made me look almost regal.
As for the dress, the material was soft, and the gown simply cascaded all the way down to my ankles.
The halter neckline exposed my shoulders and long, creamy arms. I didn’t want to think about how much this dress must have cost in addition to the rest of the outfit.
The words Alexander McQueen were enough.
I turned around, and it swished around me with a delicate sound.
So, this was how the other half lived.
I’d never worn a dress like this before.
I’d probably never wear one like this again.
Feeling very conscious about how different I must look, I quickly styled my hair into an updo and put on my makeup before I stepped out.
Henry looked at me from the living room as I approached, and his mouth falling open.
“You look …” His jaw worked a few times, and he finally gave up.
He rolled closer to me.
“Who gave this to you?”
“Erm … just a friend,” I said, wondering if Sean could even be slotted into that category.
He was … friendly perhaps.
He had certainly thawed a little in the past few days.
I looked through the window out of my apartment just as a sleek black limo pulled up to our curb.
“Bye,” I said to Henry in sudden urgency.
I didn’t want Sean walking in and asking me questions about Henry.
Whether he was friendly or not, certain parts of my life weren’t available for him to witness and inspect.
People never did well with the knowledge of Henry’s special needs.
They fumbled, said the wrong thing, and sometimes, it tapped into a well of anger that Henry usually kept hidden.
I hadn’t seen one of his angry episodes in a while, but they were always unexpected and volatile.
I got out of the house, shutting the door firmly, and waited to hear the familiar sound of the TV turning on.
In a second, I heard the sports channel come on and breathed out a tiny exhale.
I knew he’d be watching the TV until I came home.
The driver was holding the car door open for Sean, who got out and turned to face me.
He stopped all of a sudden, and then he leaned casually against the car as the door fell shut.
He was dressed with a bow tie and a black suit, the fit so close that I could see the fabric move as he leaned off the car when I approached.
He looked sharp, his lips full and brown eyes glinting wickedly.
His hair was gelled and drawn into a tight ponytail at the back, and I loved that for a CEO; he had the don’t-care , bad-boy look that suited him so well.
How was it possible that this powerful, handsome man was here, waiting to pick me up?
“Look at you,” he muttered.
His eyes took me in, traveling down my body slowly, and I could see in the upturn of his lips that he approved.
“You look stunning.”
Happiness swirled through me at the compliment.
It was just three words, but three words I’d treasure forever because they had come from him .
“Thank you for the dress,” I told him half shyly.
I’d never been on the receiving end of such a gift before.
“Though I’m not sure it was necessary.”
I wanted to tell him it was the closest I’d felt to being cared for in the longest time, but that kind of information wasn’t something you shared with an emotionally distant man like him.
It felt strangely nice to be on the other side of caring for someone.
“It is necessary, and you look great,” he said as he took in the navy-blue halter dress that he’d chosen for me.
He took a step closer, and I saw his eyes linger on the curve of my neck, where the dress descended sharply into my cleavage.
“Will is definitely not getting within a foot of you,” he said.
I felt weak with desire at his words.
Who cared about Will when a man like Sean was in front of me?
I wanted Sean, his broad shoulders, his wicked smirk and all, even though he was my boss.
If only I could have him.
I swallowed. “You need to promise not to pick a fight with Will today,” I said.
“We’ll see about that,” I heard him mutter as he opened the door for me.
I hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The car was spacious beyond belief, and I exhaled and stretched my legs out as Sean got in with me.
Lucas was dressed smartly, too, in a tux and a bow tie, and he looked so adorable that I wished I could hug him.
“You’re looking very handsome, Lucas,” I said, smiling at him.
“I’m sure Brianna will notice.”
He colored, his cheeks going red.
“Thank you. I hope so,” he said in a low voice before turning to the window.
“How much longer before we get there?”
Sean leaned in closer to me while responding to Lucas, and when he was done, he didn’t settle back in his seat.
If anything, he put his hand on his knee, next to mine, and his fingers lightly grazed me.
Lucas slipped his headphones on while I turned to Sean.
When I tried to remove my hand, he lifted a thumb and held my hand in place.
The touch was soothing, and my skin heated under his.
“I’m going to do the talking with Will tonight when Lucas meets Brianna,” he muttered in a low voice while I turned to him.
“If Will so much as looks in your direction, I’m going to kill him.”
A shiver ran down to my toes.
I noticed his body tense as I angled closer.
His lips parted, and he was breathing faster than normal.
Shit .
He was affected by my presence, just like I was with him.
The knowledge made my head spin.
In the hazy darkness, I squeezed his hand and let go quickly.
He looked like he was barely restraining himself from pulling me to his chest.
“Well, flattering as that statement was, let me remind you that I’m not your woman, and our goal is to help Lucas meet Brianna,” I whispered back.
“So, no murders tonight, please.”
The side of his lips twitched.
“You don’t object to bloodshed on days Lucas isn’t there?” he asked from my right.
I was done with feeling so twisted up around Sean.
I was done fighting our attraction.
I wanted Sean even if it was a terrible, terrible idea.
“Feel free to vampire your way around town when Lucas isn’t around,” I said, trying to keep my voice from betraying what I truly felt.
He chuckled while Lucas removed his headphones and pointed to a building we were passing.
“It’s The Met, Lucas,” Sean said in response to Lucas’s question.
“Perhaps we’ll go there one day together,” he said just as the car slowed down to a stop, and we were at Lincoln Center.
“Thank you, Chris,” he said to our driver.
Chris got out and opened the door while Sean helped me and Lucas out.
I stepped out and stared at the breathtaking view in front of me.
The city lights danced in the distance, reflecting off the tall, glossy skyscrapers towering in the night sky.
The air was charged with the energy of New York City, and I couldn’t believe I was a part of a luxury party for once.
Clutching my year-old purse that had been a purchase from T.J.
Maxx, I stood on the bustling street corner as other well-dressed people walked up the steps.
Feeling a bit nervous, I looked at the grand facade of the Lincoln Center.
The front of the building was lit up in colors of orange and blue.
As the three of us walked in, I saw immense wealth all around.
The men were in dignified tuxedos, and the women were wearing gowns that were similar to mine, helping me blend in.
I was one of them —the social elite.
A world I’d only had glimpses of in TV shows or heard of from secondhand sources at work.
Noticing my expression, Sean switched places with Lucas, standing next to me.
“All okay?” he asked, his eyes taking me in.
My heart was pounding as I tore my attention away from the crowd to focus on him.
I felt a calmness spread through me when he met my gaze.
“I didn’t know you were expected to wear such clothes here,” I muttered, feeling foolish at my naivete and thinking back to what I’d almost worn tonight.
“When you’re with me, you don’t need to worry about trivialities like that, Chloe,” Sean said, taking my hand and walking up the last of the steps.
“I’ll take care of you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
My days had been a constant stream of worrying.
If it wasn’t about Henry, it was about money and paying for his needs.
Someone had told me that I ought to understand my life was not Henry’s, but being a caregiver to him since I had been eighteen had solidified my identity into that.
I hadn’t been just Chloe for a long time.
A woman who got to indulge in her once-far-off dream of living in a different world.
A world where there was time for pleasure every day.
It was the difference between expecting to dress up on a Friday night versus considering what movie to pass out to, alone on the couch, by ten at night.
“I love this,” I muttered.
“If this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up.”
Sean chuckled as we joined the line of people walking in, just behind Lucas.
In the distance, staff in matching attire welcomed the guests, and as we entered the lobby, I heard music fill the space.
Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, and the ceiling seemed to stretch on forever.
The banquet tables, with their crystal stemware and lavish place settings, appeared more like something out of a fairy tale than a dining experience.
Notes from a live piano trio wafted through the air, soulful music that stirred something in me, and I turned and smiled at the pianists.
One of the men tilted his head to me in an acknowledging nod.
I couldn’t help but be captivated by the music.
It was a stark contrast to the sounds of my everyday life, a reminder of the beauty and luxury that existed beyond my world.
The lighting was soft, and I looked past the Roman statues that dotted the circular lobby to Sean.
“Do you prefer a signature cocktail, or will champagne do?” he asked.
My mouth fell open a little, and I managed to shut it and simply nod like this was a normal question I got asked at the end of the day.
Like I didn’t normally decide between a beer or a wine straight out of the bottle.
“Champagne, please,” I said and turned to see Lucas scanning the crowd.
“The seats are that way,” he said, looking down the short corridor to the open seats.
“Do you mind if I go sit down now? I can’t wait for it to start.”
I nodded just as Sean came back to me in a minute, holding two flutes of amber liquid.
“Lucas has gone to our seats already,” I informed him as he handed one to me.
“We’ll join him in a bit.”
“Good,” Sean said, standing by my side.
“I feel like I need a minute alone with you.”
I blushed and regarded him.
Back in the car, our flirting had seemed harmless.
A response to his possessiveness over me, which had come across as endearing.
No romantic partner had demanded my complete attention that way.
Now, in the dim lights, I could see his eyes burn as they took me in.
And the best part was that I let myself enjoy it for once.
I was tired of being the good girl.
I licked my lips as his arm slid around my waist.
I took a sip of my champagne, feeling its sweetness down my throat while his gaze lingered on my lips.
“Did I tell you that since we first met in the café, I’ve thought of you often?” he murmured, pulling me closer.
The side of my hip met his upper thigh, and I angled my body to him, feeling heat radiate off him.
He did?
“What did you think about?” I asked, not breaking eye contact as I took another sip.
Sean kept running his fingers gently down my arm, and little tingles of anticipation ran through me.
His eyes looked intense, and I felt very turned on.
“That instead of stealing your drink, I could have stolen you.”
His eyes searched my face while my cheeks flamed.
The piano trio played Moonlight Sonata in the background, which was somehow both soothing and seductive.
It’s just the night , I told myself.
The music, the dress, and the alcohol speaking.
Before we could go further, before Sean could lean in—which he very much looked like he was poised to do, right in the middle of the lobby—we were interrupted.
“Sean, is it not?” asked an older gentleman, looking stately and with a scotch in his hand.
He extended his hand out as a glimmer of irritation crossed Sean’s face before he shook it.
“I’m Ron Gellinger, the host of this event and owner of Faux Industries. Nice to see you here.”
Sean nodded, turning to me.
“This is Chloe Nichols. She loves dance and was eager to support the art program.”
I nodded, feeling both shy and nervous as Mr. Gellinger acknowledged me with a small smile and a nod.
“Did you dance, Ms. Nichols?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Ballet,” I said, afraid I sounded like a gushing teenager.
“I danced for ten years. An art scholarship in my school helped support my classes, and I’m glad you’re doing this. It means so much to the kids, more than we can ever know.”
His smile seemed more genuine, and he introduced his wife in a minute—a smaller, cheerier woman who I warmed up to in an instant.
And so the night went.
More men approached Sean, and soon, he was in deep conversation with them, with talk that changed from sports to the stock market and golf, depending on the people he was talking to.
I looked around and saw people looking at Sean Tassater with interest, eager to approach once Ron Gellinger made his exit.
This was a gala that was exclusive to the elite, I realized, since the aim was to raise five million dollars to fund art programs in public schools.
An opportunity to give back to the community while encouraging local talent.
Sean was popular among this crowd.
As I observed the guests, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversations.
Their concerns and interests were worlds apart from my own.
Exotic vacations, luxury cars, and high-end fashion brands—topics that seemed entirely foreign to me.
In the middle of a conversation about an older man’s yacht party near Barbados, I got distracted by the tunes of a once-familiar song.
A click-clack of heels followed this tune, and I turned around to find the source of that sound.
I walked a few feet away, and there, off to one side, away from the adults, was a group of girls.
They were in intense concentration as one girl demonstrated her ballet dance steps and the others watched.
I recognized the steps—a plié and a pirouette.
I stared at these girls from a distance, a faint memory stirring in my heart.
I’d loved dancing so much as a child.
I’d forgotten this want in the recent past. I hadn’t been around younger kids or girls or women with an interest in dancing lately.
“I don’t know what comes after this,” said the girl who was dancing, extending her hands up.
“We learned it yesterday.”
“Saut de basque,” I whispered, and the girls turned around in surprise, unaware that they were being watched.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry; I won’t watch you anymore,” I said and turned around.
“She’s right,” I heard a girl tell the others.
“It was saut de basque,” she said.
I snuck a glance over my shoulder.
“It’s okay; you can watch,” the same girl told me before she did the complex jump with a sideways twist.
She landed gracefully on the left foot, completing the turn and maintaining the cross-legged position, and I couldn’t help but applaud with exhilaration.
It hit me then—a dream I’d once had.
A dream of dancing with the New York City Ballet one day, and it was as though someone had bowled over with a substantial punch to my gut.
I’d forgotten my own dreams.
I knew of people who couldn’t chase their dreams, of people who had outlandish dreams, but how could someone completely forget the presence of a dream they’d once had?
“I wanted to be a ballet dancer,” I confessed to the girls.
If no one else, at least some ten-year-old girls in the universe knew about my dreams.
“Why aren’t you one today?” one asked confidently.
I began to explain, a trivial justification for my life today, but then I remembered a memory from my high school days.
I had left for a dance performance in my local ballet school.
“I had gone to my dance performance against my father’s wishes,” I began in a hollow voice as they crowded around me.
“He didn’t want to encourage me to pursue a career he believed wasn’t lucrative. Instead, he told me I was supposed to pick up my brother, Henry, from his friend’s home and stay home. I refused, wanting to take part in my show. I was the lead performer after all, and what did it matter that Dad didn’t understand or didn’t want to see it? I sure wasn’t going to miss the show I was headlining to pick up Henry.”
They nodded.
“Duh,” the brown-haired one with a tiara on her head emphatically said.
I could see it in her eyes—the drive to be the best dancer ever.
“Henry understood. He said he’d wait for me at his friend’s place, that I could get him after my performance.”
I remembered that night.
I’d gotten my first and only standing ovation.
When I got out, much later than I was supposed to because someone from The Juilliard School had spoken to me about applying for dance school, my head was in the clouds.
It was bitterly cold when I stepped out, and I got into the first bus that came along, nervous and shivering with excitement.
It didn’t matter that we were poor, of limited means.
I had a future and hopes and dreams and stars in my eyes.
I had gone straight to Henry’s friend’s house, and we were walking home together.
I’d been so lost in my own world that by the time I noticed the car, it was too late.
Henry had been alert, and he’d protected me.
Weeks later, when he’d come home, he was in a wheelchair.
Indirectly or not, I was responsible.
I stared back at the eager, open faces of the young girls, unable to articulate my thoughts, when Sean came to my side.
“Lucas is missing,” he said, his voice rough.