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“Hi.” I smiled at him and hoped he wouldn’t guess why I was so befuddled. “How are you? Happy almost New Year.”
His grin was huge. “Same to you. That’s quite a dress, Bridget.”
I glanced down, not even remembering what I wore.Oh, that’s right.Layla picked the gown out for me, a really, really short ivory feathered shift dress. If I went outside without my jacket, I would freeze to death. But inside it was warm, and Layla insisted the ivory would work for me, even though pure white paired with my pale skin made me look like death.
“Thanks.” I looked around. “Working or partying?”
“Working.” He shook his head. “Not my scene, really, but I’ll be going out after I drop your father at home later.”
I wasn’t really sure why I opened my mouth right then, but the words spilled out before I could overthink them. “You know, Michael, I really admire you.”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “Why is that?”
“You built this incredible business on your own. You started with an incredible business plan, and it worked out for you in a big way. You work hard, people seem to love working for you—even if they hate following us around—and you made this organization to keep people safe. You’re literally earning every day by doing good deeds. I…I may not be particularly articulate, but I just wanted to say that. There are so many very bad people doing awful things.”Like myself. “I wanted you to know how much I think you’re just amazing. Smart. Funny. Kind. Anyway, that’s it. Sorry if I’m rambling and ridiculous.”
Why did I say all that?I no sooner finished speaking before I wished I just shut the fuck up and left the room. I had this problem—weirdness was my kryptonite. Just when I thought I could get through things unscathed, it popped back up to drag me back to the place where people found me cringe-y.Michael probably finds me super cringe right now. He stared at me in silence, though every once in a while he would blink rapidly and then run his hand through his hair. In fact, the silence stretched way too long.
Okay, I have to exit.I said, “Sorry. That was weird. I’ll leave you alone and…”
He put his hand gently on my wrist, his thumb brushing across my pulse as if to calm it with his touch. “No. It wasn’t weird. It was maybe the single nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Bridget…I…”
Jim showed up then. Stumbling a little—obviously drunk based on his strong scent, not to mention the weaving—he grabbed my arm and yanked me away from Michael.
“Br—Bridget.” It took him a second to say my name and then he looked super proud of himself for a second before continuing. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”
“I know.” Politeness wasn’t my companion at the moment, so I decided to be blunt. “I’ve been running away from you. All night, in fact.”
He pointed at me, his grin widening. “You know, Layla is hotter than you. Hope has this way about her that attracts attention, but you are the funny one. Smart, I hear, but who cares about that in a woman? You don’t need to be smart. You’re Bridget Radford.”
“Oh, I’m a big idiot, Jim. You have no idea.”
Michael put his arm around me, trying to extract me from Jim gracefully. “I was talking to her. Go away, kid. You’re embarrassing yourself and making her uncomfortable. Come on, Bridget. Let’s go dance.”
Dance?Michael took my arm in a gentle yet firm way and led me toward the dance floor. A slow dance song filled the room, and I followed him mostly out of curiosity. The event planner—not Hope, since she was at a spa—booked a crooner for the night and he sang like he was born to do it. I recognized the song by Frank Sinatra as it wove across the dance floor.
It turned out, in addition to everything else he knew how to do, Michael could dance. He led me through the crowd, my body pressed against his as we swayed to the music. He smelled like soap, clean like he always did, and all thoughts of Jim fled my mind. He stared into my eyes, and I let myself fantasize again about being in his arms for real. Maybe he pretended, too, because although he normally scanned the room for threats, his steady gaze didn’t waver in the slightest from mine. Intense wasn’t a good enough word for how it felt to be so thoroughly captured by a man’s attention.
“You know the shit that asshole just spewed at you isn’t true, right?”
Oh, it suddenly made sense. He wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to lose it because Jim pointed out I was less pretty than my sisters. I almost laughed, surprised he’d think I didn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter. It never has. Maybe if I cared more about my outward appearance than…you know what? Itreallydoesn’t matter, so I’ll just reiterate that. There are so many more important things to think about than whether I’m the girl next door and Layla is the hot one. I think it messes with her head, and maybe the comparisons get to Hope. I have enough other things messing with mine to bother caring about whether or not people find me as hot as my sisters.”
He dropped his hand a bit from my waist to my hip bone and awareness shivered through me. I caught my breath.Wow. It still took so little with him. In other circumstances, and with a person who might actually desire me, it would be hot. If he were my guy, I could push against him and know that he’d be hot, hard, and wanting me.
I stayed right where I was, not bothering to get closer to him. There were enough disappointments in life without adding him not being hard for me onto the list.
“You don’t understand that phrase—the girl next door. Don’t you know what it means?”
I stared at him, wondering why it mattered. “Maybe I don’t. I figured it meant I was plain in comparison to their sparkle.”
He shook his head. “Yousparkle. You practically light up the entire night sky with your sparkle. No, I think they mean they saw you as pure and charming. Usually, people want to marry the girl next door. She’s who you want to spend your life with, the right kind of girl. But even that? The description of you, it doesn’t fit, Bridget, because not one person who looked at you and saw that version of you really understood you. I don’t think I did, not for a long time, but I see you now. You’re brilliant, cunning, interesting, and brave.”
“Michael, I…”
Whatever I would have said was cut off. It was almost midnight. The stupid countdown had started. People around us started to shout in one voice,10…9….8….
Everyone in the room would start kissing and hugging soon. Usually, I’d sneak out the back door before it happened. For the last two years, I rang in the new year while walking down Fifth Avenue looking at the stars.
His mouth came down on mine when the clock counted down to three. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait until the ball dropped because I couldn’t think of anything beyond his mouth on mine. His lips were gentle but firm, and for the first couple seconds, I think I was too startled to even respond. He didn’t push and right as I felt like I was catching on, he pulled back. Balloons fell from the ceiling around me. Confetti filled the air alongside cries of Happy New Year. We both looked up and then he stared at me with maybe the most serious expression on his face I’d ever seen. My hands shook, my heart raced, and I stared back at him in shock.
