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“Somebody might see you,” I whisper, though I don't want him to stop.
“I think everybody's busy,” he whispers in my ear. “Besides, I was thinking about it. I don't really care if anybody sees us. We're both consenting adults and we can do what we want – or who.”
I giggle like a schoolgirl and want to slap myself for it. I'm not normally like that – I certainly don't giggle – but something about Aaron has loosened something up inside of me. That iron grip of control I pride myself on has – weakened. And I know I've had the same effect on him. It's the craziest thing and yet somehow, it just feels – right.
Still, some sense of decorum and propriety is probably for the best in a professional setting. Though, as I look around at the crowd – some of them grinding away like porn stars on the dance floor, others gambling away like degenerates, others getting sloppy drunk at the bar – I'm hard-pressed to say this is a, quote-unquote, ‘professional’ setting.
I only worry that if they see us together like this, some of the others will believe I'm getting some sort of preferential treatment. I'll get hit with that, ‘slept her way to the top’ tag – ignoring the fact, of course, that I'm nothing more than a personal assistant.
But I know how the rumor mill works, having lived with it all my life.
“You should probably care,” I tell him, my logical side taking over. “Your image – even to your employees – has got to be sterling. Maybe now more than ever, given that Frontline is going higher profile.”
He hesitates, then slowly releases me, knowing I'm right. I turn around and give him a warm smile, letting him know that it's not a lack of desire on my part, but the more practical aspect of doing business.
“You're probably right. As much as I hate to admit it,” he grumbles.
“On the plus side, things like this are what earn undying loyalty from your employees,” I tell him. “Showing them you not only recognize but appreciate their work and contributions to the company is not only rare in this day and age, but something that people want – to actually be valued and seen as more than random numbers and letters on a payroll check.”
“I have a great team working under me. Why shouldn't they enjoy at least a few spoils of war?” he explains. “Frontline wouldn't be where it is – or get to where it's going – without them. Without you.”
I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, and I look down. Hearing praise from him is nice – if misplaced.
“I'm just a PA, Aaron. I'm not the one –”
He puts his fingers beneath my chin and forces me to look up at him, making me bite off my words. There is an earnestness in his eyes that holds me fast.
“You are every bit as important as anybody else, Emily. Don't you ever think otherwise,” he says firmly. “Do you understand me? You help me personally in more ways than you can even imagine – which frees me up to focus on other issues.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“Let's get out of here.”
I grin. “This is your party. Shouldn't you –”
“No, this is their party – your party. We can stay if you'd like, or we can go somewhere else. Somewhere we're allowed to be ourselves,” he replies. “Besides, look around. Everybody's focused on having a good time. None of them will even notice if we slip out.”
He shoots me a wicked little grin and I feel my insides churn. Spending a little alone time with Aaron was definitely on my agenda for the weekend. He's right. Everyone is so engrossed in gambling, dancing, drinking, or stuffing their faces that they're not paying attention to who's coming and going.
“Okay, let's go,” I nod.
“Excellent decision.”
We leave the ballroom, turned den of vice, and head out of the hotel. On the way, Aaron calls his driver and by the time we get out front, he's already there, holding the door open for us.
“Wow, people tend to jump when you call, don't they?” I tease.
“If they know what's good for them,” he quips – though I don't know that he's entirely joking.
The driver closes the door behind us, and we settle into the back seat. Aaron turns to me and smiles.
“So, where are we headed?” he questions.
“How should I know? This is your show.”
“I told you before, this is your weekend, so you pick the destination.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Let's just go have a drink. Maybe somewhere quiet where we can actually have a conversation,” I tell him. “I've never been big on the nightclub circuit.”
