Ashlei
Every girl has this unique feeling when they know they look fine as hell.
Sure, there are days when I’m in my sweatpants and a t-shirt with my hair in a messy bun and I’m like aww, I’m kind of cute right now.
And there are days when my business casual outfit at work is color coordinated and fresh.
And sure, there are nights when I go out with the girls, hair curled and lashes on, when all the looks from guys — and girls — as we pass lets me know I nailed the outfit.
But then, there are nights like this.
It’s the South Beach Agency Awards, which is about as close to the Grammys as it comes in our industry.
Just like the event I went to with Brandon in Atlanta as his intern, only the best of the best are invited to the SBAA.
This is where you learn who is at the top of the game, be it events, advertising, weddings, corporate conventions, or any other creative space.
And if you’re invited, you better have enough sense to dress all the way up.
Since the Ball & Pen Miami branch just opened in the first quarter, we’re not nominated for any of the awards tonight. But thanks to my memorable launch event, Celeste received two shiny gold tickets as an invitation to the festivities.
One for her, and one for me.
I would have dressed up regardless, but going through the nominees on the website and seeing that Okay, Cool was up for both Best Pop Up Event and Best Brand Engagement Event, I knew Brandon would be here.
With that in mind, I went all out.
My silky red dress is custom-made, floor-length, and strapless with a delicate loop of fabric draped across my left arm.
It has a pearl-accented bust and a highly tapered waist that accentuates my figure and gives it even more of an hourglass shape, especially the way the fabric rouches around my hips and drapes down elegantly to the floor.
Of course, there’s a long slit, just enough for my freshly tanned legs to peek through as I walk.
And each time, my pearl and Swarovski crystal-covered heels glimmer in the chandelier light.
My hair waterfalls over one shoulder in elegant curls, my highlights fresh and shiny, and my makeup is done to perfection.
My lashes are black and thick, accented with falsies, my lips are painted a bright matte red to match my dress, and my eyes are smokey and sultry.
Each accessory I picked out is tasteful, just enough to add to the outfit without detracting from it.
I felt it when I left the house, and I feel it even more now as Celeste and I walk through the crowd, stopping to say hello and chat every now and then.
All eyes are on me.
I feel like a siren, a vixen, a witch. I keep my eyes non-focused for the most part, trained on Celeste as we walk and talk, or perhaps on taking in the scenery.
But the moment I drop my gaze to a man or woman staring at me, all the blood rushes to their cheeks, and they falter for a smile or a nod of their head or a quiet, subdued hello.
There are many ways for a woman to feel powerful, and I don’t care what anyone says — wearing a badass dress and heels is one of them.
“We’ll be here again next year,” Celeste says softly to me as we walk, a smile on her face as she nods to groups as we pass. “Only next year, we’ll have a dozen nominations. Mark my words.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”
“One of them will be Best Launch Event,” she adds with a smirk. “You know I’m still getting calls requesting co-ops.”
“The more the merrier, right?”
“You’re going to be a very busy woman, Ashlei. I hope you’re ready for it.”
I smile, and not just at her insinuation, but at the pair of warm brown eyes I just caught staring at me from across the ballroom.
“Born ready.”
Brandon is standing in a small group next to a cocktail table, a drink in his hand and the same woman at his side who was with him at our launch event.
He looks absolutely delectable in his beige suit, tailored to perfection as always.
I don’t have to be close to him to know it’s designer and expensive as fuck, that the shoes on his feet probably cost more than my entire outfit combined, and that he’s wearing a Rolex watch worth more than any car I’ve ever owned.
I also don’t have to be close to him to see that the sight of me knocked the breath from his chest.
It’s in the way he’s holding his glass — a little too tight, a little too close to his chest — and in the way his brows are furrowed, his jaw set, his eyes ablaze where they watch me move across the room.
“Excuse me, Celeste,” I say. “I’m going to freshen up.”
She nods, and we part ways — her joining one group while I slowly make my way toward Brandon. He watches me the entire way, and I think I even see him shake his head subtly, as if to warn me.
Don’t do this.
Don’t try me.
But it’s all I want to do.
Someone else in the group notices as I approach, and his brow arches, his conversation cutting off right in the middle of whatever he was saying — which, of course, makes the rest of the group turn my way, too.
It doesn’t make me quicken my steps.
I take my time, squeezing the arms of a few people I know as I pass them on the way. Hello, lovely to see you, oh you look wonderful, too, yes let’s get a drink, I’ll be right back.
I’ve got a confident smile painted on my lips when I finally reach Brandon, and I sidle up directly across from him, between two older gentlemen who are practically dripping drool on my arms.
“Hello, Mr. Church.”
I see the flash of fire in his eyes, the flare of his nostrils, the ticking of his jaw as he tries to soothe his breath. “Ms. Daniels.”
“I wanted to congratulate you on your nominations this evening,” I say. “I have no doubt you’ll take home the gold.”
“That’s the plan.”
“We have stiff competition, though,” the young woman next to him adds. “And once you’ve been in the game for a year, I imagine it’ll be even more so.”
I smile, reaching across the small circle to squeeze her wrist briefly. “You’re too kind, Colleen.”
Her eyes widen. “You remembered my name.”
“Of course, I did,” I say. “You work for my old agency, and for one of the best, in my opinion.” I pause, then, locking my eyes on Brandon’s. “Okay, Cool will always have a special place in my heart.”
Colleen covers her chest with clasped hands. “That’s so sweet. I will say, you’re sorely missed. Most of all by MyKayla. She talks about you all the time.”
“Ha! That reminds me, I need to get her check in the mail.”
That earns me a chuckle from the group, and just as quickly as I came, I nod and smile to each of them before excusing myself.
I hold Brandon’s gaze last, my eyes lingering, and when everyone else has turned away and back to their conversation, I take my shot.
Come and get me, I mouth.
Brandon frowns, his nose flaring again as he blinks several times like he’s trying to convince himself he couldn’t have possibly heard what he just did.
I just smile and bite my lower lip, turning slowly and making my way out of the ballroom to the hallway where the restrooms are.
When I get to the door, I look over my shoulder, my eyes catching his again.
Come on, I plead with my gaze. I know you want this just as bad as I do.
With that final bit of voodoo, I exit the ballroom, inhaling what feels like my first fresh breath now that I’m out of his fiery gaze.
I keep my shoulders held back and my head high as I walk to the restrooms, but instead of going to the ladies’ room, I duck around the corner and into the one and only family bathroom tucked away from the main hallway.
When I’m inside, I blow out a breath, planting my hands on the sink and staring at my reflection. Suddenly, a laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head, arching a brow at myself.
“This will never work,” I say out loud, as if to hammer it home and diminish any hope I have left.
Still, I smooth my hands over my dress, touch up my hair, and stand against the wall directly across from where the door opens.
The bathroom is large, made for moms with kids, I’m sure. There’s even an elegant changing table and a royal blue velvet chaise lounge. The counter has a basket with baby wipes and powder and even deodorant and a small first aid kit.
My eyes keep flicking to the chaise.
The longer I stand there, the more my heart rate recedes, and the excitement and adrenaline I had coursing through my veins starts to slowly drain.
It must be at least five minutes since I walked in here, and he didn’t follow.
I sigh, letting my head drop back against the wall. What did I really expect? The last time I ran into him, he essentially reiterated that he hated me.
But the way he looked at me…
I swallow, shaking my head at myself as a soft laugh leaves my chest. “Stupid girl.”
And just as I’m ready to give up, to check my appearance one last time and rejoin the event, the doorhandle jiggles.
My head pops off where I’d been resting it against the wall, and my breath hitches in my throat as the gold knob turns. The wide door slowly opens, just a sliver, just enough.
Brandon slips through the opening and locks the door behind him.
God, the way the air crackles to life when that lock clicks into place.
Brandon keeps his back to the door, his hand on the knob, as if he’s one wrong look or word or move from bolting out again. His chest is already heaving, his eyes fiercely burning into mine.
But he’s just standing there.
Waiting.
As if he can’t believe he followed me, that he found me, that he knew from just one look where I was going and what I wanted.
But that’s the way it is with us, the way it’s always been.
We’re connected on a chemical, molecular level.
And nothing can change it.
This is it, my heart whispers. It’s now or never.
I still a breath, one that fills my lungs and helps me stand straighter as I push off where I was leaning against the wall. I take two steps toward Brandon, watching the way my approach makes his throat tighten, his grip on the doorknob increases.