Nodding at him, I link my arm through his, steeling myself for the pulse of energy that floods from him into me. I try to remind myself of the little speech I just gave myself in the car, the one where work is the only important thing tonight and I’m not going to let Brett distract me from proving my worth as an employee of Asima Asset Management. It feels like a distant memory, a promise I made in a different life, to a different version of myself.
“I must apologize for not collecting you myself Opal. I know my father would have sent a car, but I would have liked to have been a little more personal,” he says.
He doesn’t offer any further explanation and I can’t help but think of him with his wife, too busy to worry about something as insignificant as me. “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m sure you were busy. Is your wife here with you tonight?”
I cringe at my blunt question. Jeez Opal, nice going. So smooth.
Brett laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not married.”
I mutter something in response, too embarrassed to say anything else. I am elated to learn there is no wife though. Not that it matters. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s my boss. It doesn’t magically make him available to me, or magically make him like me.
He still doesn’t offer any further explanation for where he was or what he was doing instead of coming to collect me himself, and his secrecy only adds to his intrigue.
I chastise myself again. It’s not secrecy. It’s just none of my business what he was doing and he obviously doesn’t feel the need to explain to me.
Allowing Brett to lead me to the stairs, I reach down and lift the front of my dress slightly as we climb them, not wanting my entrance to the grand building to involve me tripping and falling.
We reach the top of the stairs without incident.
Two waiters at the top of the staircase greet us and offer us champagne.
I decline. I want to get my bearings before I have a glass to contend with. My hand is shaking so much right now from the close proximity of my body to Brett’s that I’m not confident I could hold it without champagne sloshing it out of the glass. Brett declines too, although I’m almost certain it’s not because of any effect I might be having on him.
We step into the mansion and I am momentarily shocked into awed silence. The grand entryway is large and airy, lit by soft downlights that cast delicate shadows over everything. The space is dominated by a white marble staircase sweeping up to a walkway that runs around the entire section of the entrance way, adorned by a white decorative railing. Soft music fills the air and just below it, I can hear the humming of voices talking in polite, hushed tones.
A man appears seemingly out of nowhere.
I manage to focus on him and smile.
He returns my smile. “This way please.” He turns and walks across the entryway.
We dutifully follow him while I’m wondering if I should unhook my hand from Brett’s arm now.
But he keeps his arm pressed against his body, holding my hand firmly in place. I glance up at him as we walk. He looks down at me, nodding towards the man.
I realize he’s the Hardy’s butler.
Brett rolls his eyes and grins at me
Finally relaxing a little, I giggle softly.
Brett is probably more accustomed to this kind of setting than I am, and I like the fact that he still finds all of the pomp and circumstance mildly ridiculous. I mean who needs a butler when they have security gates in place? Surely, it’s easy enough to answer your own front door. I decide to withhold my judgement. Maybe William has employed the man just for the party so he can spend his time with his guests.
The butler stops in front of a set of double doors. He bows and gestures for us to enter.
The doors are already open and even before I step in, I can see the large grand piano in the corner of the tastefully decorated room. White leather sofas line the walls, clearly pushed back to make a dance floor for later on. The floor is hard wood, and my heels clack slightly as I walk onto it.
The room already contains around two dozen people. They mill around in small groups in the center of the floor, holding wine glasses and making polite small talk. A few people sit on the couches, but most of them stand, wanting to see and be seen.
I remove my hand from Brett’s arm. I miss the contact almost instantly, but I’m also relieved that I can finally breathe normally again and that my stomach isn’t clenching from his touch.
A waiter approaches us with a tray of white and red wine.
I take a glass of the white wine and smile and thank him.
Brett declines a drink.
I raise an eyebrow. I hope he isn’t one of those bosses that thinks even a few glasses of wine is inappropriate at a work function, because I feel like a few glasses of wine might be the only thing that’ll get me through tonight without me making a total fool of myself and clamming up at the wrong moments.
A man in a very expensive looking suit is moving towards us. It is William Hardy. Beside him moves a woman who looks like she’s just stepped off a magazine cover. Her hair is perfectly styled and her red dress is exquisite.
I’ve never met her, but I assume from the fact that William’s hand is on the small of her back, guiding her forwards, that she’s Tanya Hardy, William’s wife.
“Opal, it’s good to see you.” William leans in and kisses my cheek.
“How are you?” I smile.
“Good,” he responds. “How’s Robert?”
It takes me half a second to realize he’s talking about Mr. Connell. “He’s on
