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“Not your fault, ma’am. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the young waiter replies as he and another staff member begin to clear up the mess. I look at my dress to survey the damage, and as if someone is looking down on me tonight, I don’t even have a splash on me. The black dress and shoes are still perfect, the hotel foyer floor less so. My hands are shaking a little, my nerves about seeing Harrison in a tuxedo coming to the surface.
I am about to apologize again when the staff jump up and help me step around the mess, apologizing profusely, and I quickly walk away, seeing the black limousine waiting at the front hotel entrance. I quicken my pace, which matches my breathing, and as the doorman opens the car door, I slide in and see Harrison’s eyes alight like fire, staring right at me. There is no turning back now. The heat radiates from both of us, the urge to slip closer to him along the seat so strong that I grip onto the car door handle to prevent me from moving. I underestimated how hard this was going to be. To be with him, but not touch him. It is almost painful.
“Wow, Beth. You look great!” Eddie says with a big grin, the younger Rothschild brother growing on me by the day. He is more relaxed than his brother, seemingly without a care in the world. Harrison, in contrast, seems like he has the world on his shoulders, but can carry it all and then some.
“Thanks, Eddie. You too,” I say with a nervous chuckle, as I fidget with my clutch, my hands sweating. All I get is a small smile and a nod from Oscar while Harrison continues to stare at me. Our eyes lock for a moment, and I watch him swallow. His look is steaming as his eyes slowly lower, obviously so, taking in my full appearance before they rest back onto my face. Eddie and Oscar get into a conversation about a new bill passing through parliament, ignoring us completely.
I openly look him over too. Him in a dinner suit is much more than I ever imagined. “You look very dapper tonight.” I smile at him. It isn’t a lie. I have seen Harrison in suits almost every day. But there is something about seeing him in this black tuxedo, the shiny lapels and the clean impressive black shiny shoes that not only exudes money and power, but a self-assured confidence he seems to fill into me.
“You look exquisite,” he murmurs quietly, and I am lost for words. His face is serious, and I can’t move my eyes from his as my breathing temporarily stops. No one has ever called me that before, and I know he means it. Whenever he talks, people listen, and it is because he is always in the moment. His focus never wavers, so you know whatever he is saying is genuine. It is one of the things that attracts me to him the most. His eyes sparkle as his lips curve upwards, and I feel my cheeks heat.
“Your team did an amazing job. Thank you,” I say to him. I feel like a princess going to the ball.
“So let’s talk strategy,” Oscar pipes up, breaking our attention. It is a short drive to the venue, and we fill the time with talking about how to play out the evening. My role tonight is to meet and greet guests with Harrison and the boys and to spend time with Arthur—neither of which could ever be classed as work for me. So even though I will see Mrs. Rothschild again, I am quietly optimistic that it will be a good night.
As we enter the room, my body is electric. I am on edge. When Harrison stepped out of the car, and then turned to give me his hand, my nerves skyrocketed and haven’t yet settled. In unison, we step into the ballroom, our bodies humming in anticipation, the two of us aware that it is not just the event itself that is causing it.
I look in awe at the space; it is beautiful and would have cost a fortune. I feel Harrison’s fingers, twitch, gripping around mine at our sides. The hand holding shielded by my gown. I glance up him for a beat and catch him looking down at me. It is like we are the only two people in the room, despite the flashes of light.
He leans over then, his mouth next to my ear. “Your body looks fantastic in that dress, but I am itching to get it off you…” he murmurs, and my lips part at his confession as I take a sharp intake of breath. Pulling away, his eyes glisten and his smile grows wide, before he gives my hand a quick squeeze. I push the hair back from my face, feeling a little flushed.
“Let’s get this party started!” Eddie says, his tone like a college student, loud enough for just us to hear, which breaks any thickening tension. I throw my head back and laugh, and I hear cameras click, bringing me back to reality again with a thud. I look back at Harrison and catch his gaze of admiration on me.
“Work,” I say, to remind him of where we are.
“Work,” he repeats, and our hands let go just as he is enveloped by a group of men. I take a breath then, to settle any remaining nerves, before I straighten my spine, and put my professional suit of armor on. With Harrison on one side of me and Eddie the other, I am surrounded by men in suits. I listen to the greetings and watch the back slaps as I also take in the trays of champagne, then the three-piece band, and lastly, my eyes settle on the floral arrangements… all still with baby’s breath.
I grind my teeth, not because I am upset, but because I already know how this night is going to end. People will walk out early with sniffles and headaches, no one will hear the speeches clearly because the acoustics are not right in the room, and by the looks of the trays of champagne and how quickly they are going, most people will be drunk before 9 p.m.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lillian Harper looking like a supermodel as she walks up to Harrison and latches onto his arm on his other side. I struggle not to roll my eyes. Harrison stiffens slightly beside me, the movement so minute that no one else would notice. But I do. I also notice how her manicured red nails wrap around his elbow as she laughs loudly at something one of the men in the group was saying, injecting herself into their conversation. I turn around and see that Oscar has already wandered off and has started networking and am thankful that Eddie stands firmly beside me, since Harrison is now stuck with a group of men and Lillian, with no chance of escape for a while.
I tried to do some due diligence last night to prepare for tonight. Looking through the guest list and trying to put faces to names so I wasn’t totally out of my element. My searching lead me down a rabbit hole of Harrison, which also led me to investigate Lilly more. So while in bed, wearing my mismatched sleepwear and a dollar store face mask, I succumbed to image after image of the two of them. I have researched her before, but never to this depth, and after seeing so many pictures of her and Harrison together from over the years, I couldn’t help but feel inferior to her glamorous looks.
As I look at them together now, my confidence in my appearance tonight begins to wane. Yet another reminder that I am in a world that I have absolutely no right to be in. I am just surprised I haven’t spilled a drink yet or caused some other catastrophe. Although the night is still young. Maybe I will be a true Cinderella and last until midnight before it all disappears.
“Are you ready to enter the ring?” Eddie asks, and I smile.
I push my shoulders back. “Yes. I’m ready.”
“Remember the plan. Smile, meet and greet, and chat to Arthur.”
“Got it.”
Leaving Harrison to his chatter, we walk into the room, where Eddie introduces me to a few people. The men eye me up and down, and I don’t particularly like it, but I talk with their wives and greet them all warmly, taking on board what each of them say and making mental notes that I can report back to the team on. Eddie grabs my elbow and steers me across the crowded room and introduces me to another two men, both who look almost as attractive as Harrison.
“Beth, these are my other brothers, Tennyson and Ben.”
I find out Tennyson runs the family construction company and Ben is the CFO and new CEO of the law firm now that Harrison is amid his campaign and potential governorship.
“So you are the woman who put our mother in a bad mood all week. Cheers,” Tennyson says, raising his glass. My eyes widen as I feel the sarcasm dripping from his lips.
“No drink?” Ben asks, looking around and signaling to a waiter.
“I don't drink,” I respond, shaking my head. I have never been a big drinker. I don’t even want to think about the type of damage I would cause if I had a few drinks; my clumsiness is not something that needs enhancing.
“You will soon since you are dealing with her. Water?” Tennyson asks as a waiter passes, and I nod quickly before he hands me a glass. He seems to really dislike his mother, and I am glad I am not the only one who appears to not get along with her.
“Thanks. So… does your mother hate me?” I ask, scrunching my face, ready for the slap of truth that is coming.
