Chapter 17 - Blanche
Chapter seventeen
“What do you say, dear? Since you’re spending the weekend with us and catching up, why don’t you come with us tonight? The Taranovs invited us to an engagement party for their daughter. You know, your grandfather knew them way back when.”
“Mother, I don’t know if—”
“Oh, and I know just the dress! They’re going with a vintage-luxury theme, and I have a dress in my closet that will look beautiful on you. Come, we’ll try it on now, and I’ll call and add you to my hair appointment. Your cousin Charles is already coming with us, so the two of you can catch up.”
Well, I suppose that’s my evening plans sorted.
Not that I had anything else planned, necessarily, other than trying to get away from work and anything to do with Henry Sinclair.
At least for a few days. Life has been a whirlwind since we returned from our trip, with the acquisition and merger of the McDaniels’ business happening faster than anyone thought.
We’ve stolen some time together here and there, but we're by no means exclusive.
Pam’s set me up on a few dates, but nobody’s caught my attention thus far.
Maybe tonight will be the perfect chance to check out some eligible bachelors from my parents’ social circle.
With a little more pep in my step at the thought of a buffet of men my age, or perhaps older, I’m encouraged.
A boozy party might be just the thing I need.
By the time we arrive at the ballroom the Taranovs have chosen for the evening, Mom, Charlie, and I are on our way to being properly tipsy thanks to a bottle of champagne Mom snuck into the car before Dad could see.
“Not even across the threshold, bunch of lushes…” Dad mutters, sending us all into fits of giggles as we drop the car at the valet and make our way inside.
The ballroom is enormous, divided into one section for the cocktail hour and another for the dinner and dancing to follow.
It’s clear the Taranovs have spared no expense, so whoever Natalya is marrying must be an important man.
I halfway listened to Mom’s gossip on the way here, and apparently, the bride-to-be is beautiful.
“Alright, now that we’re away from your parents and have something other than alcohol in our stomachs, tell me everything about your new job. Is your boss as hot in person as he looks in the paper?”
A piece of the smoked salmon canapé I’m chewing flies out of my mouth as I choke, and Charlie giggles as he unhelpfully slaps me on the back.
“Okay, hotter in person, got it.” He laughs again as I dab tears from my eyes.
“He is not hot. I mean, he is, but I’m not concerned with whether or not my boss is hot! I’m there to learn business and make connections, not worry about how big my boss’s hands are.”
I shrug and sip my champagne, but Charlie’s not fooled. He knocks back the rest of his glass. “So you’ve fucked him?”
Luckily, nothing is in my mouth this time, but I can’t help but sputter as I try to lie to my cousin. Unfortunately, we spent too much time together growing up, and he can read me like a book. Rolling my eyes, I look everywhere but his smug face.
“Alright, yes. I’ve fucked him! But it was before I knew he was my boss. I didn’t even know his name!”
“Classy.”
“Oh, fuck off. I know what you get up to. Anyway, that’s the truth. I didn’t know him.”
“But you knew him afterward, and you fucked him again.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that. Whether you have little spies all around or I’m just that easy for you to read, never tell me. It’s extremely unsettling.”
He offers me a toast to that, grabbing two new champagne flutes off a passing tray.
“To being extremely unsettling! Please, Blanche. Make sure they put that on my tombstone.”
We clink our glasses and sip our fresh drinks, but I can tell Charlie isn’t going to let this go.
“Whatever it is, Charles, you may as well go ahead and say it.”
“Ugh, don’t call me Charles, bitch. I don’t even have anything to say! I just wanted to ask about him. What’s he like? Is it serious?”
“Oh God, definitely not serious. No. We have fun, but we’re both quite busy, and you know I have big plans that do not involve long-term men.”
“Amen!” We toast again, and I remind myself to ask Charlie what he’s been up to with his men. For now, he’s still eyeing me expectantly, ready for a description of Henry Sinclair.
“He’s…”
He’s a narcissist. An ego the size of the moon and, unfortunately, the intelligence to back it up. He pretends to be detached from reality, but ensures bonuses for every employee, even when his father cuts them. He’s an asshole of the highest order, with an absolutely massive cock.
“Well, I’d classify him as…”
A giant, one of the tallest men I’ve met, with big enough hands to encircle a throat…
and smoky gray eyes to die for. An admitted misogynist, although he listened to every opinion I had on how the McDaniel merger should be handled, and put most of my ideas into action.
A stalwart friend, based on the receipts I saw of him paying for Davis’s most recent stint in rehab, and James’s grandmother’s hip replacement…
“You see, really he’s…”
A genius, able to argue either side of a boardroom argument until the room descends into chaos, the perfect time for him to insert his preferred solution.
A psychopath, who drugged me and held me captive in his basement with no prior consent and only the flimsiest of safe words in place from an encounter that was a completely different situation…
A commotion in the ballroom draws our attention, saving me from having to continue to try to describe Henry Sinclair succinctly.
Mom and Dad reappear and join us at our table as we watch the crowd part for what appears to be an imminent grand entrance.
As the curtains draw back, I notice the lady of the evening first, wearing a stunning cream dress that fits her like a glove.
She’s flawless, looking more like a model than a socialite, and it’s clear she’s loving the attention of the evening.
“Oh, aren’t they such a lovely couple…”
My mother continues, but she’s drowned out by white noise flooding my brain as the glass in my hand clatters to the ground, exploding into countless glass shards upon impact.
Charlie is the only one who notices, following my gaze to where it’s locked on the enigma of a man I’ve been trying to describe to him for the past five minutes.
Everyone else is too busy listening to the emcee announce the couple.
“Both families would like to extend their heartfelt thanks to everyone who made it here tonight to celebrate this gorgeous couple!”
His dick was inside me two days ago.
“Tonight will kick off the wedding event of the year, of Miss Natalya Taranova—”
His cum was inside me two days ago.
“To the gem of a man who we all know and love—”
My boss. My lover.
“Mr. Henry Sinclair Jr.!”
I don’t hear or feel anything for the next thirty minutes, robotically taking cues from my mother to ensure I’m clapping and smiling at the appropriate moments.
It’s as if I’m watching the evening on TV, if the screen were underwater and upside down.
The shock of seeing Henry in the last place I expected, dressed to the nines and looking like the definition of men your mother warned you about, isn’t even what’s thrown me.
The thing I can’t quite get over is that as soon as I saw him, my nose burned and tears pooled in my eyes as if I was holding in a sneeze. An ache still smolders deep in my chest, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I think, for the first time in my life, I’m jealous about a man. Shit.
“You have to do a better job of faking it, Blanche,” Charlie says solemnly. “It’s only going to get more raucous in here as the evening continues. Fake it, just until we can get home and to your bedroom. Then we’ll figure it all out, okay?”
He’s right. I have to get it together. I just thought…I don’t know what I thought. I had zero expectation of exclusivity with my asshole enigma of a boss. We’ve been having excellent, plentiful sex thanks to our proximity at work, and that’s it.
Fuck, my chest hurts. There’s no way this is related to Henry.
This has to be indigestion from the salmon.
Taking one deep breath, I release it and all these confusing feelings out into the world.
By the time I’ve regained my composure, a slightly older couple has approached Charlie, clearly good friends of his by their warm greeting.
“Charlie, darling. Have you been hiding away a woman this gorgeous from us? We didn’t even know you were dating anyone.” The man claps Charlie on the shoulder before shaking his hand, but the woman only has eyes for me.
“Eric, Christine, this is my favorite cousin, Blanche Bedford. If you think she’s gorgeous now, you should’ve seen her before she grew into her ears.”
I roll my eyes and pinch Charlie before accepting Christine’s cheek kisses and Eric’s handshake.
“It’s lovely to meet you, dear. We’ve been…friends of Charles for quite some time, but he never mentioned that his beauty runs in the family.” Christine looks me up and down for emphasis as Eric whispers in Charlie’s ear, causing him to blush.
Well. I did not know Charlie swung both ways.
Christine moves her attention to my cousin as Eric compliments my dress and asks how we know the happy couple.
I manage to say something about the Taranovs before Charlie is whisked away by my mother to meet a woman, probably someone incredibly boring, whom she’d like to see him settle down with.
“You know, dear. If your feet get tired of dancing tonight, we have a hotel room next door.”
I start to say thank you, but I’m here with my parents. But one more look across the room shows Henry, seemingly incandescent with happiness and smiling down at his soon-to-be wife.
This pain isn’t an ache. It’s sharp and sudden, white-hot misery like a knife to my abdomen, and it’s just as confusing as the ache.
“I think I’d need to dance quite a bit more before my feet are that tired,” I purr. “Eric, are you volunteering to dance with me?”
He takes my hand, and I’m whisked away, but not before I see Charlie coming back to pull Christine onto the dance floor.
And not before I see one more flash of gray eyes, loaded with emotion, narrowing in my direction.