Chapter 25
It was time to find David and get this over with. I circled back to Ricky after leaving Monica rooted to the spot outside the bathroom. “Hi, my client’s here, and I need to check in with him and wish him happy birthday.”
Ricky took a swig of beer. “Course. I’ll go schmooze. Maybe some of these millionaires will wanna invest in my bagel cart.”
“Uh, yeah.” I avoided eye contact. Viv was right. Bagel guy had turned out to be a bad idea.
Ricky loped away in search of an investor. He’d be eaten alive in this shark tank.
Before I could find David, a finger tapped my shoulder. “Feel like dancing?”
My body surged with oxytocin as I took in his straight face. He wasn’t joking. “Are you asking me to dance?”
“I am asking you to move your body rhythmically close to mine, yes.”
“What about your date?”
He offered me his hand. “She’s vanished.”
Wow, the feet story worked. “Oooh, sorry.”
“I’m not.” He grasped my fingers. “So is that a yes?”
The seven-piece band eased into the opening bars of “If You Love Her” by Forest Blakk. My guilty pleasure song that I felt had been written for me.
Coincidence or a fortunate stroke of serendipity?
I abandoned my mission to find David as Jack led the way to the dance floor, never breaking contact with my hand.
He stopped us right in the middle of the room, in full view of everyone. Without asking, he placed a hand on the small of my back and pulled me into him. My hand moved to his shoulder as our clasped hands rose and he pulled them into his chest.
With our eyes locked, he began to move me around the floor, knowing where to take me as if he’d rehearsed every angle. Even our breathing fell into sync along with our feet.
I fought hard not to tremble. “Where did you learn to dance like this?”
His eyes glistened at the memory. “Mom taught me. She and my dad used to go to their social club every Sunday and dance. I got sick of watching. You?”
I cleared my throat. “YouTube. Me and Viv wanted to re-enact the ballroom scene in Beauty and the Beast. Guess it stuck despite all the tequila.”
“Never a dull moment, Munroe.” He rested his cheek against mine, and the trembling stopped.
As the song built, so did the warmth between our bodies. Sweat slicked down my thighs as a bulge pressed against my crotch, and still we didn’t speak. The three hundred people in the room melted into the shadows, and it became all about us.
In seconds I decided to let go. The job, my mother, never being enough for someone. Right now, I wanted to live. I was enough. Everything else seemed trivial. His body became a magnet, and this time, I didn’t fight against its pull.
For three blissful minutes, I embodied the girl in the romantic comedy who got the perfect guy and the job and the life she wanted without needing to compromise. I could face my fears and tell Jack he’d snuck through the door I’d deadbolted to my heart.
The singer crooned the last line, and I woke from the dream. I wasn’t that girl.
Jack sensed me pulling away and released his grip around my waist. The separation felt even more acute than the last hug from my mother.
“You okay?” His fingers rested on the skirt of my dress.
No. Yes. Fuck knows. “Yeah, great. I’m not used to dancing. In public. Without a hairbrush microphone.”
The heat from his eyes could melt the fake tan from my skin. “You use a hairbrush?”
“You don’t?”
“Deodorant stick,” he revealed. “Sometimes it gets in my mouth, and I can’t get rid of the taste all day.”
People around us were holding up phones in our direction, and I became paranoid they were live-streaming on Instagram. Oh God, what if Lacey saw me dancing with the enemy? End goal, Scarlett. Remember?
I let out a hollow laugh. “Funny.”
My switch in demeanor confused him. One minute I’d been pressed against his junk, the next I’d turned into a rat scuttling away from the exterminator. “You want to get a drink?”
I don’t deserve it for what I’m about to do. “Nah, I better go find Ricky. Make sure he’s not terrorizing the guests.”
Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Well, if you change your mind, I will be taking advantage of the free bar.” He leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek, and my lips returned the favor right on his dimple.
The guilt almost swallowed me whole as he disappeared into the throng of waving arms and fake laughter.
I’m Judas Iscariot.
* * *
After a ten-minute search, I found David by the door with a glass of whisky in one liver-spotted hand and an unlit cigar in the other. Sally stood at attention behind him like a general in a plain black midi-dress.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He popped the cigar in his mouth and held his free hand out for me to shake.
“Happy birthday,” I cheered. “The party’s beautiful.”
A third button on his black shirt had come loose, his white, curly chest hair making an appearance. “Well, I hope you enjoy it. Did Jack make it?”
“He did.”
“I saw your email with the stats. You two make a good team.” He smiled. “I’d like to think I know how to put the best people together.”
“Another nine units sold.” My intestines twisted. I loathed myself for what I was about to say. “See, the thing is, David, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
He nodded at a passing guest. “About what?”
Plunge went the knife into Jack’s unsuspecting back. “Jack’s way of… working. I’m not sure it’s the best fit for your company image.”
He popped the cigar into his inside jacket pocket. “How so?”
“He’s…” Think of the partnership, think of the brownstone. “He’s a bit amateurish. His way of working might do well in Boston, but here, it’s a different ball game.” I am such a bitch.
“You think so?” he mused.
I nodded. “I think for any future business, you need someone who knows this city inside out. Like me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” David said.
I gave my sweetest smile, feeling sick. “That’s all I ask. I’ll let you get back to your other guests.”
A queue of people were hanging around, waiting for our conversation to finish.
Ducking past Ricky, who stood talking to a young blonde and her friend, I made my way out to the terrace. The fresh air hit me like a slap in the face. I deserved a slap in the face.
The terrace door swished behind me, the footsteps halting at my back. “Nice little speech you just gave.” The Boston accent became stronger when he was pissed. “You can fucking forget about me painting your bedroom now.”
No point in denying it. “So you heard?”
He came around the side of me, anger mixed with confusion on his face. “You hate me so much that you’re willing to bad-mouth me to David to get me off the listing?”
“It’s not about The Crystal.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Or you.”
He huffed. “Can you translate? Because that doesn’t make any fucking sense. Next, you’re gonna tell me not to take it personally.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s business.” The look on his face felt like someone twisting a knife in my gut.
He breathed fire. “I guess Steve Fermin was right. There’s no level you won’t stoop to if it means getting ahead.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t done the same thing,” I spat. “Trying to poach clients, sabotaging the ad copy. I’d bet my commission you planted that article in the paper.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” he yelled in his Boston drawl.
“You get the fuck outta here,” I screeched in my New Jersey twang.
“Both of you mind explaining what the fuck is going on?” David stood at the door, holding the unlit cigar I assumed he came out to smoke in peace. Sally clutched his whisky glass and smirked like the kid in class who always seemed pleased with seeing others in trouble. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like her.
We’re fired. We are so fucking fired. “David, it’s not what it sounds like.”
“We were having an… animated discussion,” Jack chimed in.
Except this time our cute brother/sister act didn’t fool him.
“I should fire the both of you,” he growled.
Jack and I competed over who could apologize the loudest until David held up a hand. “But I’m happy with what you’re doing with my building, and I don’t wanna meet any more fucking realtors. You’re all fucking nuts.” He turned to Sally. “What time does the thing start tomorrow?”
“Nine a.m.,” she answered.
He flicked a finger between both of us. “Sally here’s going to email you an address. Be there at 9 a.m. tomorrow, ready to work.”
“What is it?” My legs were shaking under my full skirt.
“Turn up tomorrow and you’ll find out.” He popped the cigar into his mouth. “Otherwise, nice knowing you.”
Jack and I gulped in unison.
“I suggest you go home and get a good night’s sleep,” he told us, lighting up the cigar and taking a puff. “Gonna be a long day.”