Chapter Eleven
Stephanie
“Oh, mama,” Andy said, moving into my bedroom doorway in her own gown for the evening. It was a black floor-length dress with a high neckline but an open back.
“It’s not too much?” I asked, turning back and forth in the mirror.
I’d chosen a wine-red floor-length gown with a slit up the thigh that was just shy of scandalous.
I would need to be careful to keep my strides short so it didn’t reveal all my secrets.
I felt like the more modest neckline and the long sleeves kept the outfit from making me look like an escort, but still allowed me to be sexy.
Not that I should have had my mind on what was sexy or not.
This was a charity fundraising event to me, not a chance to try to seduce Venezio.
I mean, any chances of trying to convince that man to take me to bed fell away when he’d likely witnessed me making an absolute fool of myself by singing karaoke and then trying to strip naked when I got home.
I was not lucky enough to get the post-drinking amnesia like Andy did, leaving her blissfully unaware of the embarrassment. I remembered every cringy moment. Up until I fell asleep on his shoulder.
Sammy filled in the rest for me.
She walked in to find Venezio gently putting me down on the cushions and tucking a blanket around me.
Then he left.
I saw him again, of course, at the warehouse. But it had been only in passing, since he usually volunteered later in the day to work in the shipments. By then, I was often already out and hitting the pavement.
It was totally just different schedules. But my overactive imagination couldn’t help but worry that he was avoiding me, that I’d given him the ick, that he no longer had any interest in me.
A part of me was actually terrified that he was going to stand me up after I put so much work into my hair, makeup, and outfit.
Then where would I be? Alone at home in an evening gown? Even more depressed than I’d been for most of the season?
“No,” Andy said, shaking her head. “I think it’s just enough. It toes that line between classy and sexy. It’s perfect. The men will be clamoring over themselves to give you a check. And the women will want to know where you got the damn thing.”
I smoothed my hand down my belly, which felt like it was vibrating.
“And the makeup?” I asked.
It had been a long time since I had a reason to go full glam. I was worried the smoky eye was too much.
“It’s perfect. You’re stunning.”
“You too,” I said. “I love the up-do.”
“Sammy did it. I get sweaty and angry when I try to do anything more than a messy bun.”
“Where is Sammy?”
“Throwing on her dress. She took Meatball for a long walk after she did her hair and makeup.”
“Andy, are you ready?” Sammy, someone who believed that if you were on time, you were late, called.
“Yep,” she called, heels clicking down my hallway.
I grabbed my heels and clutch before following them out barefoot.
“Damn,” Sammy said, nodding at me.
“Right?” Andy asked.
“You look amazing too,” I told Sammy, eyeing her simple bias-cut slip gown.
“Thanks. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
“No, I’ll wait here,” I said.
I could tolerate being stood up at home where no one could see. I would die of humiliation if it happened in a public place.
“Okay. We’ll see you there then,” Sammy said. She slid an arm around Andy’s back, guiding her away before she could say anything else to me.
I shut the door and exhaled hard.
It was going to be okay. Even if he didn’t show up, it was going to be okay. If anything, maybe it would be good. I would at least know that he was over any attraction to me.
If it had ever existed at all.
Men didn’t kiss you like he’d kissed me if they hadn’t been interested.
Ugh.
I really needed to stop using that single kiss as a reason to justify my stupid crush on a man I’d barely spoken to since.
I glanced over at my Christmas tree, relaxing my eyes until the lights went all blurry and magical, always finding something calming about that.
I was still standing there like that when there was a knock on the door.
A startled yelp escaped me as I whipped around.
I inched toward the door.
“It’s me,” Venezio called before I could look out the peephole.
A deep exhale escaped me, chasing away the tension in my shoulders. But replacing it was a swooping sensation in my stomach.
I pulled open the door.
Then there he was.
He looked devastatingly handsome in his expensive, well-tailored suit: black suit, matte black shirt, black tie. It was all perfectly appropriate but also kind of, I don’t know, dark and dangerous. Especially with all his tattoos.
“Wow,” I exhaled.
“Fuck,” he said at the same time.
His gaze took an exceedingly long time to make it back up to my face. I watched him suck in a deep breath.
“That’s a hell of a dress,” he declared.
“Yeah?” I asked, smoothing my hand nervously down it. “I was a little worried about the slit,” I said, sticking my leg outward to show off the deep slit.
Venezio’s gaze helplessly followed the line of my leg. He cleared his throat a little before he spoke. “Can’t imagine anyone’s gonna complain about that. You got any shoes, though?”
“I’m putting them off until the last possible moment,” I admitted.
“Not a fan of heels, huh?” he asked as I walked over to them.
“It’s been a long time. I don’t imagine my feet are going to be happy.”
I slid one foot in.
But I teetered on the icepick heel.
Venezio was right there, offering his arm to steady me.
It was such a gentlemanly gesture for such a rough-around-the-edges guy.
“Thank you. Okay. I just need my clutch and I’m ready. Should we call for a rideshare? Is showing up in a cab tacky?”
“I have a town car.”
“A town car?”
“With a driver.”
“With a driver?”
“You gonna parrot everything I’m saying?” he asked, lips curving up.
“I’m processing out loud. You hired a driver for tonight?”
“I did.”
“Wow. That was so forward-thinking. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. But he is double-parked out front.”
With that, he pressed a hand to my lower back. It was just a nice gesture, but I was pretty sure he just wanted to be close to make sure he could catch me if I fell, since I was definitely wobbly at first.
As promised, there was a sleek, expensive black town car out front with a driver in a suit in the front. Venezio waved him off and got the door for me himself before going around the trunk and climbing into the other side.
It was a frustratingly short ride.
I would have preferred to sit in thick traffic, so I could enjoy the press of his body against mine, the spicy scent of his cologne, the warmth I felt emanating from him since a coat didn’t exactly go with my outfit.
The holiday party was being held at one of Manhattan’s swankiest ballrooms. I had no idea what kind of sway these lawyers had to snag space during such a busy time of the year, but I was excited to see the inside for myself.
I tried to play my excitement close to my vest, but as soon as we moved into the doorway of the ballroom itself, I couldn’t seem to hold in the shocked Wow that slipped between my lips.
The space was massive.
Long rectangular tables lined the sides of the room with large circular tables scattered between.
The space was done up for Christmas in an understated, classy way: trees sat in the corners with warm white lights, garland draped the stage, and each of the tables featured lush red poinsettias and candles in tall hurricane holders.
On the stage, an orchestra was playing Christmas favorites. And everyone was dressed in gowns and suits, each more expensive-looking than the last.
“You’re going to want one of these,” Venezio said as he snatched two flutes of champagne off the tray of a passing server.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I agreed as I looked around the room.
It was like a club.
And I wasn’t a member.
But I had to charge confidently in there between everyone and act as if I not only belonged, but that my charity was worth investing in.
“Geez,” I said after a sip. “That even tastes like money.”
“Yeah, this is some of the good stuff,” he agreed, drinking all of his in one sip before placing it down on one of the many discreetly placed little tables meant for empty glasses.
“Who looks the least intimidating?” I asked Venezio.
He was scanning the crowd when a tattooed arm shot up in the air, waving. “Venezio!” a woman called.
I followed the arm down to the body.
Then there she was—a tall, thin woman with shoulder-length coppery-red hair around an angular, but gorgeous face, all big green eyes and full lips. Her chest and arms featured tattoos that I didn’t expect to see on anyone else in this room but Venezio.
I shot a confused look at Venezio’s profile, but he was focused on the pretty woman making her way over to us in a royal blue evening gown.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, giving him wide eyes.
“Hey, Vega. Vega, this is Stephanie. Steph, this is a… friend. Vega.”
There was a false note on the word ‘friend,’ but I wasn’t picking up on any lingering chemistry between the two of them. Maybe they just weren’t close enough for that title.
“Hey,” she said to me. Then, back at Venezio, “What the fuck are you doing at this kind of thing?”
“I’m with Steph. We’re fundraising to get homeless kids presents for Christmas.”
“Well, count me in on that. I don’t have a checkbook, but you know where to find me,” she said. “Dude, what the hell is this?” she asked, reaching out to run her hand down his tie. “I didn’t think you even owned a suit.”
“I’m surprised you could tear yourself away from your video games to come to this,” he shot back.
Okay.
So they definitely knew each other. Their vibe was more like siblings, though, than anything romantic.
“Trust me, I’m not happy about it. I have a leftover pizza and some cold beer waiting for me at home.
But, no. I have to be here. It’s a mandatory thing since my firm was taken over.
That’s our new taskmaster,” she said, nodding over to a tall, handsome man in an expensive-looking suit.
When he turned his head, I could have sworn I saw tattoos creeping up out of his collar.
“And he’s stupid rich. So shake him down extra hard for me, okay? ” she asked, looking at me.
“Got it,” I agreed.
“I’m serious. If you get less than fifty grand from him, I’m going to be disappointed. He has a new two-thousand-dollar suit every few days. And, well, he’s a dick. Rake him over the coals. Bleed him dry. Draw and quarter him and—”
“Might want to rein in the bloodlust tonight, Vega,” Venezio said, lips quirked as if he found it amusing.
Vega exhaled hard, snatched a champagne flute off a passing tray, and chugged it.
“If I get brilliantly drunk tonight, someone make sure I don’t get face-to-face with that asshole. I’ll end up fired.”
“Nah. No one’s gonna fire you after that last case.”
“Well, if they do, I will at least have my pick of the firms around here. So I guess I should go schmooze just in case. Nice meeting you, Stephanie.”
With that, she was off.
Venezio watched her go before turning back to me, a light dancing in his eyes. “Hundred bucks says the two of them fuck before the end of the year.”
“What? She hates him.”
“Vega doesn’t like people bossing her around. But the only man who could handle her crazy ass is one who is strong enough not to be intimidated by her. And he,” he said, nodding toward Vega’s new boss, “has been tracking her every move.”
When I paid attention, I found he was right.
“So, do you think if we go over there and say Vega said he would make a generous donation, that it would work in our favor?”
Only one way to find out.