Chapter 14

Today marks the end of Beth’s first week at Triad Technologies and instead of downing a bottle of wine and watching her favourite reality TV show, as was her usual weekend tradition, here she is staring at her mirror debating on what to wear for the hundredth time this week.

Why did she agree to this again?

Oh, yes, because she can never say no to Adrian when he looks at her with those piercing blue eyes of his. And more importantly, she didn’t want to say no. She found herself desperately wanting to be around him all the time. As ridiculous as it sounds.

She’s run through a thousand possible scenarios of how the event with Adrian could go. Most of them are awkward and end with her doing something outrageous. Her nerves are starting to get the best of her and Iris isn’t here to hold her hands and make her feel better about this situation. She’s on her second date with Connor, the neighbour. Yes, second date. Beth still can’t wrap her head around it. She’d met Connor last week and Iris was right, he is different from the guys. She knows Iris would pick up if she called, but the last thing she wants to do is interrupt her date.

She removes the dress she’s currently trying on—it’s too…needy. Returning to her closet, she reaches for her pile of ‘special’ outfits. The one bright side of having worked for a magazine was having access to clothes she would never dare to buy or even wear. The dress she settles on for the evening most certainly qualifies as one of those outfits she’d never worked up the nerve to wear. She decides to pair it with platform heels a full two inches higher than she’s ever walked in. Possibly the dumbest decision she’s ever made.

Why is she trying so desperately to impress Adrian? Looking like she’s dressed for a potential lover rather than an employer. Oh well, it’s too late to do anything about it, since her ride is here. She’s glad she insisted on getting to the fundraiser by herself. Having his driver pick her up just felt like too much.

She fiddles with the beads on the bodice of her dress as the cab pulls up to The Atlantis. She feels even more nervous, as she gets out of the car. This just isn’t her scene. Even wearing the fanciest and most expensive dress she owns, she still feels underdressed with everyone around her exuding wealth. The people gliding elegantly past her in every direction are decked in all kinds of designer clothing, boasting the kind of sparkle and polish she just can’t mimic. The wardrobe discrepancy is enough to tell her that she’s among the one percent.

Photographers line the entrance shouting and taking pictures of people she recognizes as celebrities in the technology industry.

She pauses when she steps into the building, taking in her surroundings. The place is extravagant, with expensive décor, ice sculptures at the four corners of the wide room, and chandeliers hanging from the impossibly high ceiling. Tall tables covered in black cloth are meticulously arranged for guests to gather around while hors d’oeuvres are being served. Guests are mingling and sipping champagne, while a DJ plays music from a raised platform at the front end of the space.

You can do this, she reminds herself again as she steps further into the room. But when she finds Adrian in the crowd of suits, she isn’t so sure. The sight of him makes her shiver. Crap. She tries to think of what to do, but her brain seems to be malfunctioning. She’s not sure if it’s nerves from the unfamiliar setting or nerves from seeing him.

He’s standing under the highest point of the domed ceiling, wearing a classic black tuxedo, surrounded by half a dozen colleagues, friends, and admirers, all of them looking so very rich, important, and dressed to kill.

He grabs a drink with his left hand and raises it to his mouth, but he stops before drinking, his eyes scanning the room. When his eyes finally land on her, a slow smile spreads across his face. He excuses himself from the conversation he’s having with a group of older gentlemen and strides toward her. Her body tingles as she watches him approach.

When he’s by her side, his eyes sweep over her. “You look beautiful.”

Beth blushes. “Thank you.” And he looks so good in the lilac shirt stretched across his chest, complemented by a plum-coloured tie running the length of his torso. She drags her eyes north before they unwittingly travel below his belt.

She’s trying to find the words to tell him just how heavenly he looks when he stops a waiter passing by. He picks up a flute of champagne and hands it to her.

She smiles as a thank you. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here,” he says softly in her ears as he pulls her into a hug.

With Adrian by her side, she feels at ease as they work the room, schmoozing all of the people who need it and small-talking with the others. Everyone in the room wants a piece of him; both women and men. But especially the women. Beth catches a couple of the scornful glances thrown her way by women drowning in designer items.

Adrian doesn’t seem to notice any of that. He keeps a hand on her all night. Her hand in his and his palm at the small of her back. Occasionally, a set of flexing fingers find their way to her hip but Beth doesn’t mind it. She loves feeling his touch on her. Loves having him so close to her.

Once they’ve spoken to pretty much everyone in attendance, Adrian holds out his hand to her. “Dance with me.”

No way. She shakes her head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He smirks. “You won’t know until you try it.” He sets his drink down on a nearby table and takes her hand, leading her to the dance floor.

She debates arguing, but when he pulls her close, pressing her body into his, she takes in his delicious masculine scent and forgets what she was even about to argue over. He leads with the same kind of confidence he exudes—a quiet dominance mixed with natural grace.

Their hands are clasped together as he wraps his other arm tightly around the curve of her hip. Her eyes follow his, a closed loop of exploration into each other as the rest of the room fades away. Their weight shifts from foot to foot and their hips sway, very much moving but, at the same time, fighting with everything they have to stay stagnantly lost in that moment.

Her chest feels tight with anticipation of what’s to come—right now, in this moment, and beyond, as she gives herself over to the man in her arms.

He stops abruptly and takes her cheek in his palm, smoothing a thumb over the apple of it softly. He looks intently into her eyes and she thinks for a moment that he’s about to kiss her. But the moment is lost when the music changes into a mellow tune. The emcee directs everyone to find their seats in the main dining area.

They head toward the dining room, weaving around tables and the increasing crowd of people until they reach one of the tables closest to the stage.

Beth is struck by how much fun she’s having. Dining at a fancy event in a fancy dress is not her idea of a fun Friday night activity. But here she is having the time of her life. However, most of her joy can be attributed to the man sitting across from her.

"What are you thinking about?" Adrian asks quietly.

A waiter arrives and delivers oval-shaped ramekins of sugar-encrusted crème brulée. She welcomes the distraction. She grabs a spoon, cracks the topping, and digs out a spoonful. With a wary glance in his direction, she lifts the spoon to her mouth. Her eyes drifted shut and an mmm sound emitted from her throat. He watches her the entire time. And she smiles inwardly when she notices the expression on his face.

She puts down the spoon and pats her lips with her napkin. Sitting up straight, she trains her eyes on his. "I was thinking about how much fun I’m having.”

Adrian gives her a genuine smile. “I am too. Thank you for being here.”

Beth marvels at how at ease he seems, having casual conversations with other guests, laughing at jokes, and even telling some of his own.

There’s a sound from the stage and the crowd quietens as the amplified voice of a keynote speaker comes over the sound system. Waiters walk quietly between tables, sharing hors d’oeuvres and murmuring questions about wine selections as they pour. Shortly after, there’s a round of applause then laughter and chatter resume.

When it’s time for them to make their exit, Adrian puts his hand on the small of her back and escorts her out of the dining room.

“Did you drive?” he asks.

“No. I called a cab.”

“I have a car. I’ll drop you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I insist.”

“Okay,” she concedes, letting him have this one since she’d won the last one about him picking her up.

A black Audi pulls around a minute later. The driver gets out and goes to open the back door, but Adrian waves him off and opens it for her instead.

“Thank you.”

She slides across the back seat to make room for him. When he climbs in and joins her, she’s hyper aware of his thigh brushing against hers. As they start to move, she looks forward but senses Adrian’s eyes on her. “What?” she asks finally.

“Nothing.”

“You were staring at me.”

“Can’t help it,” he says with a smirk.

They talk the rest of the short drive to her place. Their conversation is casual, but still, she finds it impossible to feel completely relaxed near Adrian. He just takes up too much space—both literally on the seat next to her and metaphorically inside her head. The driver slows as they turn down her street.

The car pulls to the curb, and the casual and relaxed mood abruptly comes to a halt. It feels like the end of a date with an awkward goodbye, rather than saying goodnight to the CEO of the company she works for.

She puts her hand on the door latch and speaks really quickly. “Thank you for the ride home.”

Adrian leans forward to his driver. “Give me a few minutes, Ivan. I’m going to walk Ms. Parsons to the door.”

“That’s not necessary,” she says hurriedly.

He reaches and puts his hand over hers, which is still holding the door handle, and pushes open the car door. He climbs out first and extends his hand. “It is.”

With his hand on her lower back, he guides her ahead of him up the narrow walkway. She feels the heat from his palm scorching her skin and wonders if it’s her body or his that’s on fire.

Her apartment is on the third floor, and he insists on riding the elevator up with her, too.

At her door, Adrian shoves his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Thanks again for the ride,” she says.

“Of course.”

“Okay…well…have a good night.” She does some sort of a curt, clumsy wave and fumbles to open the lock.

She steps inside her apartment, looks back, and smiles awkwardly one last time before shutting the door. Then she proceeds to lean her head against it and bang a few times.

Oh, God. What has she gotten herself into?

Everything about Adrian Dane is off-limits. Especially now that he’s her boss.