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“God, no. Celebrities are just people who act and think they’re better than everyone else. So no, they don’t impress me at all,” she says.
“Are you impressed by anyone?” I ask, and she cranes her neck to see outside, hinting that while she doesn’t care too much about celebrities, she’s still curious who is out there.
“I prefer humble, kind people myself,” she says. “This is going to be hard.”
“What about it is going to be hard?” I ask, resting a hand on top of both of hers. “You don’t have to do anything. You are off work tonight. Completely free of responsibility.”
“That’s the hard part,” she tells me as the SUV inches forward another car-space. “Being at an event that I orchestrated and not having a tablet on me or paying attention to what’s going on behind the scenes. I mean, I trust Dylan and Charlie to do a good job. I do. But it’s not going to be easy.”
“Hey,” I say, taking my pointer finger and pressing it to her chin so I can pivot her to face me. “You are an incredible employee, an irreplaceable asset to the company, and a damn good director of events. Tonight is your night off, Miss Blythe. That is not a suggestion. It is a requirement. You earned it.”
“Irreplaceable?” she asks quietly, with the smallest of smiles on her perfectly red lips.
“Irreplaceable,” I echo before pressing my lips to hers. Lucky for me, she’s wearing a lip stain and not a lipstick so my lips aren’t the color of cherries right now from the kiss. And lucky for her, I probably would have done it even if it hadn’t been.
We pull up to the curb and Tuck gets out, standing the way he always does, in front of where I will be, military straight, no frills other than the headpiece he wears for security communications. I have to give him credit where credit is due. He is in perfect professional stance and headspace. Knowing him, he is probably dying to jab at me for what just happened. The man is absolutely gluttonous for gossip, and I am sure he is enjoying this to the fullest.
“Now, remember,” I tell her. “Tonight you are a guest. You are my date. And nothing more.”
“What if shit hits the fan?” she asks.
“Dylan and Charlie and a handful of others are on it,” I tell her. “I even hired a couple of outside reinforcements simply because of the level of this event. You designed everything perfectly, organized it perfectly, and I expect nothing but the best tonight. Your job is done…other than smiling and one other thing.”
“What other thing?” she asks as we step out of the car.
“Making me look like the luckiest guy at the gala,” I say, and her smile beams with all the glitter of Marilyn Monroe herself.
The chilled hotel air hits us in a welcoming wave, and the room swells with laughter, talking, clinking of glasses, and music. Not Olivia yet, but it’s someone people seem to know. A singer with a sturdy set of lungs for his apparent young age, who just did a front flip off the baby grand, making the crowd roar.
“Gosh, this is insane,” she says giddily as I guide her through the crowd. It’s a slow walk since we are obligated to talk to almost every person we pass. It’s all small talk, of course, with smiles and handshakes and sweeping looks of approval over the room. Promptly we are offered drinks, which Natalie accepts gingerly, though I do notice how quickly she takes the first sip. Meanwhile, her other hand is still clasped to the crook of my elbow.
“Marcus, darling!” Margaret David’s voice fills the air around us, and we turn to her as she approaches. She looks over the top as usual. She’s wearing an emerald green velvet gown that ruches at the sides and multiple strings of pearls of different lengths. Natalie’s face lights up when she sees her. “And Natalie, dear, you look absolutely exquisite.”
“Thank you,” Natalie says with no explanation, no belittling herself, no oh this old thing? Or it’s the only thing in my closet that didn’t look like I was attending a science fair. Just thank you.
“This entire gala is beautiful, Marcus,” Margaret gushes. “Simply divine. I don’t know how you did it.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I say. “It was all Natalie.”
“Was it really?” she asks.
“Truly,” I answer, and Natalie just smiles.
“Why am I not surprised?” she asks. “You really have always had an eye for these things. Your mother would be so proud of you, you know.”
I smile at Natalie, and her green eyes swell with the threat of tears as she smiles. “Thank you, Margaret.”
“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now, darling. Tonight is a celebration. Marcus, why haven’t you danced with this lovely young lady yet? What are you waiting for?”
Natalie blushes and looks up at me, and I smile down at her. “I was wondering the same thing,” I say. But just as I begin to lead her to the dance floor, I am cut off by Steve. And unlike everyone else around us, he is not smiling.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Ashford, but I have some details regarding those accounts that I think you’re going to want to hear.”
I frown. He’s referring to the embezzlement. He’s right. I want to know, but not right this minute.
“This is not the time,” I tell him. But he places a hand, a concerned hand, on my arm.
“Marcus,” he says, leaning in so only Natalie and I can hear his next words. “Reese and Garrett sold their shares several months ago,” he whispers in a somber, low voice. Then he pulls back enough to look at me. “All of them.”
