Just One Night. Part 1 (6 page)

“Okay,” she says, “that sounds like a good idea.”

“Where shall I start?”

“How about … tell me what you do for a living.”

“I work for a real estate investment company. It’s privately held, founded by my father over thirty years ago, in fact. My mother died of breast cancer ten years ago, so we contribute quite a bit to the research dedicated to its eradication.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” Jennifer sounds sad, and that makes me admire her even more than I already did. Rarely do people appear to mean their condolences when they don’t actually know the deceased, but I believe she does.

“Thank you. She was a wonderful person, and the world is less without her.” The memory of her sobers me a bit. I still miss her happy carefree ways. It was only around her that I ever felt truly comfortable. She never did embrace the posh life like my father did. She was, to the end, very down to earth.

“Has your father remarried?”

“No. He’s playing the field, as they say.” I spare a slight smile for the man. He’s certainly not wasted any time carrying on with his life, but to be fair to him, I must admit that he and my mother often lived separately. Her passing impacted his heart but not his day-to-day existence.

“Good for him,” Jennifer says. “Or maybe not. Does it bother you?”

I shrug. “Not in the least. He’s his own man. I run the company that he started, and he golfs. The arrangement suits us well enough. He’s mostly retired, and he’s earned it, so I don’t begrudge him his sports and other amusements.”

“Any siblings?”

“Yes, two. I have a sister and brother, both younger than I.”

“Do they live here or in England?”

“England, you say? Wherever did that idea come from?” I’m having her on, enjoying her confused expression probably much more than I should.

“Your accent maybe?”

“What accent? I don’t have an accent. Don’t be absurd.”

She giggles and five years fall right off her face, just like that. It makes me wish I knew her when I was in short trousers. We would have been great buddies, I think. That was before I saw girls as women and life was ever so much simpler.

“So where do these siblings live?” she asks. “Hammerstone? Hammerblock? Hammerwhatever?”

“Ah, you were paying attention.” I smile briefly and continue. “Edward lives here in the city and Beatrice lives in London. I must warn you, though … if you ever see my brother, head the opposite direction. He’s trouble with a capital T.”

“I think
you’re
the trouble-maker in your family.”

“On the contrary … I am the responsible one. My brother is a ne’er do well and my sister a reckless, irresponsible, bohemian artist who spends half her life running around barefooted. I, on the other hand, have spent my entire life toeing the company line. You can ask anyone. Ask my employees, they’ll tell you.”

“Is that so? What exactly would your employees say about you if I asked?”

“They’d say that I’m a slave-driving monster who should be put down for the greater good.”

She laughs again. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“No, you can believe me, I swear it. It’s true. I am a slave-driver. Very demanding. Really, I’m a terrible person. You should probably end this date right now while you’re still able.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Was it a warning? You’re not going to drug me and chop me up in little pieces are you?”

I look at her, pretending to be horrified as I go along with her absurdity. “Stone the crows, what have I done to place you in fear of that eventuality?” I glance at her skirts. “Was it the gown? It was the gown, wasn’t it?” Facing front, I bang the steering wheel with the heel of my hand, playing the role of outraged psychopath to the hilt. “I knew it. My plan has completely fallen to shite. And here I thought I’d be getting a new trophy for my special sound-proof room on the lower ground floor.”

Thank goodness she’s laughing again. I have no idea who this daft person is living in my head right now. I’ve lost myself and become another man. Have I been possessed by a rapscallion demon? Has the idea of a one night stand with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen somehow rendered me incapable of normal conversation or speech? This does not bode well for a charity event where I will be expected to hobnob with current and potential investors. I run my hand through my hair, trying to assume a more staid character.

The car is too silent. I look over to catch her staring at me. “What? You’re not really worried are you?” Placing my hand over my heart, I make her a pledge. “I promise, on my honor, I will be a perfect gentleman until we get to the hotel room, after which point I will endeavor to become the lover you always dreamed of. But there will be no removal of any body parts whatsoever.” I hold up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

She looks as though she’s trying not to smile. “Where you ever a scout?”

“In point of fact, no. But don’t let that cause you any concern. If you need a fire built, I’m your man.”

She laughs again and then quickly sobers. “Who are you and where did you come from?” She’s staring at me like I’m an alien life form.

“William is the name, and as mentioned in our earlier conversation, I hail from London. Hammersmith, to be more precise. Part of the London Borough of Hammersmith and Fulham, west of Charing Cross.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I assure you, I don’t.” I look over at her pensive expression. “But I shall write it off as my poor communication skills and ask you to accept my sincerest apologies.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, believe me,” she says. And then she exclaims. “Oh, my… Look at all those flowers. And lights!”

I follow her gaze to the front entrance of our vehicle’s destination, the valet area of the Grand Hotel. “Yes, it’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” A mass of pink flowers in every rosy hue can be seen surrounding the arch leading into the hotel. I slow to a stop and engage the hand-brake.

“Are you ready, Cinderella?” I ask, turning to face her. Her once glowing face now looks less so. “What’s the matter?” Taking her hand in mine, I find it’s cool to the touch and fine-boned, almost delicate. It makes my own look like the great paw of a doltish animal.

“I’m just worried that the fantasy is going to disintegrate, maybe.” Her smile is almost sad.

I lean in, no longer able to resist the pull of her deep red, pouty lips. After giving her the briefest of kisses, I whisper near her ear. “The fantasy has only just begun, pet. Better get a hold on your knickers.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jennifer

WHEN HE KISSED ME, I thought I was going to have both a heart attack and a stroke at the same time. It was just a simple touching of his lips to mine, not a tongue in sight, but did that stop me from having a massive internal breakdown? No. Lucky for me, I’m able to play it completely cool on the outside while my insides are turning into molten lava.

Getting out of the car, he’s completely oblivious to my sexual distress. He’s way cooler than I am as he holds the edge of the door, ready to shut it between us.
 

“Hold onto my knickers? What does that even mean?” I’m playing the whole thing off, acting like I’m not waiting with baited breath, wondering what will happen next.

I cannot figure William out, and it’s driving me crazy. He claims to be this conservative businessman who everyone wants to kill because he’s such a pain in the butt, but he’s also cracking jokes left and right and making me laugh way more than I’m used to, especially around a stranger.
Especially
around a stranger who I plan to sleep with in just a few hours.

My palms get sweaty just thinking about that part of our evening. He’s way more than I bargained for on just about every level. What are the chances he’ll be more than I dreamed of in the sex department too?

Ugh.
I can’t even think about that right now, or I’ll never make it out of the car.
Focus, Jennifer. Look at the beautiful flowers. Think about the trifle or whatever it was called.
Instead of listening to myself, I watch him walk around the car with long, confident strides.
Jesus Almighty, he has broad shoulders.
I’ve never seen a man look better in a tux ever. Like
ever
, ever, not even in Hollywood.

He comes around to my side of the car, giving the parking attendant his keys before he opens my door. His hand is there, waiting for me to take it, and he leans down, answering the question I forgot I even asked. “It means you should plan to have some fun. I hope you enjoy dancing.”

Accepting his hand and using it to leverage myself out of the low-slung car, I smile. “I do like to dance, but I don’t remember ever dancing in a dress like this. I’m not sure I can.”

“All you have to do is hang on, and I’ll do the rest.” He leads me through the door held open by a man in uniform and into the lobby of the hotel. People stare at us and smile as we walk by. I feel like a real, live princess.

The venue has gone all-out for the ball. I’ve never seen so many pink flowers in one place, not even at a wedding, and I’ve been to some doozies in my lifetime. I’m the last one of my friends to still be single.

“Stratford!” A booming voice hits us before we’re even ten steps into the lobby. A man large enough to fit the voice approaches and holds out his hand. I think I see a Superbowl ring on it.

“Mr. Thompson, good to see you,” William says, his face a mask of civility. The joking soon-to-be lover is gone in an instant, replaced by someone I could easily see being a slave-driver in the office. The transformation is nothing short of astounding. I cannot stop staring at him. For some reason, he becomes twice as sexy to me like this. Is that wrong? I don’t know, but I’m going with it. I cannot wait to see him naked now.

“I told you, William,” the big man says, smiling good-naturedly,“call me Jimmy.”

William bows his head briefly. “As you wish.” He pauses and then turns slightly towards me while looking at his client. “Jimmy, this is Jennifer. Jennifer, Jimmy.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, taking my hand and giving me a big grin. My fingers are swallowed up by what looks like a giant bear paw.

“Yes, nice to meet you too.” Thank goodness he’s not one of those men who feel the need to arm wrestle when they meet someone new.

Jimmy releases my hand and rubs his palms together, all his attention back on William. “So … how’s the Grandston project going?”

“We’re on track for a closing in September. Do you know whether you’re going to keep your unit or sell yet?”

“I don’t know. I gotta wait for the wife to weigh in.” He looks over his shoulder and then leans in towards William, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell her I said so, but she’s the boss.”

He jumps straight up in the air and then hunches over in fear when a loud, angry voice comes from behind him. “Don’t tell her you said
what?
Who’s the
her
? Is it me or someone else I should know about?”

“Oh, heeeeyyy, baby!” Jimmy goes from deer in the headlights to fawning husband in an instant. “I didn’t see you there. My oh, my oh, my, don’t you look beautiful tonight. Mmm-mmm-mmmmmm…”

The small woman’s hand goes up to block her husband’s approach. “Save it, Jimmy.” Her deep frown turns into a glowing smile as she notices who Jimmy’s talking to. “William,” she purrs, moving closer and holding out her hand in a graceful gesture. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” She has dimples that sink deep into her cheeks and the prettiest teeth I’ve ever seen. I stare, wondering if they’re veneers.

Jimmy moves closer to his wife and wraps his big arm around her tiny waist. “I told you, baby. All the movers and shakers are here tonight. Aren’t you glad we came?”

“Nice to see you again, Glory,” William says, leaning down to give her a kiss on each cheek. He’s nearly bent in half to reach her.

“Who’s this, William?” Glory is looking at me with unabashed curiosity. “Is she your date?”

“Indeed.” William angles himself to put me on better display. “Glory Thompson, allow me to present my companion for the evening … Jennifer.” He shifts his gaze to me. “Jennifer, Glory and Jimmy are some very dear clients of mine.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking Glory’s hand.

Glory winks at my date. “I like her, William.”

He responds with a straight face. “I will inform her of the import of that statement the very moment you are out of earshot.”

Glory laughs and slaps him on the arm. “Boy, you always crack me up.” She looks at me. “These British guys … always being silly while acting like they’re being completely serious. You have any of the champagne yet?”

I shake my head no.

“Come on, then. Let’s go get us some.” She hooks her arm through mine before I have a chance to disagree. I watch William getting smaller and smaller over my shoulder as she leads me away. He’s smiling with strictly-contained amusement.

“So, how did you meet our William?” Glory asks, guiding me towards a bar manned with servers in white jackets and black ties.

“We met … online, actually.” I’m turning pink over the idea that my ad might be revealed to these people. I should just get a red magic marker and draw a giant letter A over my chest and get the judging over with.

“Reeeally?” Glory raises an eyebrow as she takes me in. “That is just fascinating. Who would have thought …” She stops and shakes her head. “No, I suppose it’s what everyone’s doing now.” She snorts. “Jimmy and I met in junior high school. No online dating for me.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” I say, reaching out for a glass of champagne on a tray. “Dating sucks.” As does living with a man for eight years and then getting dumped.
Been there, done that.
I lift the champagne to my nose and take a whiff. It’s yeasty and winey, not entirely unpleasant or unfamiliar since I’ve had some before at weddings.

“Can’t be too bad. You’re here, right? And you’re with William Stratford, the city’s most eligible bachelor.” She winks just before touching her glass to mine and then taking a long sip.

My heart lurches. Is he really that in demand? I glance over at him and know without hesitation that yes, he probably is. He definitely has the look just about every woman goes for, plus he’s wealthy. And of course, he has that accent…