Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (99 page)

When I step in, her black dress is laid out neatly on the bed and she’s standing in front of the full-length mirror wearing nothing but her bra and panties, clutching her belly, and staring at herself. “Are you going to put that sexy dress on, or what?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.

I walk up behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. “Fran, what is it?”

She continues to stare in the mirror. Her eyes are glazed over and her hand passes across her stomach again and again, tracing hundreds of tiny scars. “I remember the first time my dad cut me. I was five years old. My mom had gone back out to the grocery store after he pushed her into the wall because she forgot his favorite cereal. He came into my room…holding it…the small paring knife…the one my mom cut fruits and vegetables with…”

I can see in her eyes that she’s there, back in her memories, so I squeeze her shoulders, put my arm around her chest, and pull her back against me.

“He told me he was doing it on my belly because no one could see it. He said it would be our special place…that after, he would put my favorite Dora Band-aids on for me. He always gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me he was doing it because he loved me.” Tears roll down her cheeks. “I was so scared. I kept praying my mom would come home and save me, but she never did. She couldn’t even save herself, Gabby. How was she going to save me? Now I have all these horrible scars, and I wonder if I’ll ever find anyone who isn’t silently disgusted by the way I look once my shirt comes off.”

A tear tumbles down my cheek. I turn her around and take her precious face in my hands. “Fran, you’re beautiful and anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you.” I wipe the tears from her eyes. “What brought all this on?”

She tears her gaze from mine and stares at the carpet. “My mom called me today. My dad got in contact with her…he wants to know where I am. He wants to see me.”

Fran hasn’t seen her dad since she was ten years old, the exact time when the desire to ever see him again disappeared. His abuse of both her and her mom left permanent scars not only on her body, but on her heart. The thought of seeing him again terrifies her. I didn’t meet Fran until after the horrors of her childhood, but the damage remains. The cigarette burns on her thighs and small cuts on her stomach are only the physical reminders. The thought of anyone ever hurting her again makes me sick to my stomach. I would go to the ends of the earth to protect her.

My jaw clenches and my shoulders tense up. “And your mom said no way in hell, right?”

Fran exhales a harsh breath. “Yeah, she didn’t tell him, but I’m worried because you know how persistent and resourceful he can be when he wants something. I don’t want anything to do with him. Do you remember how many years of therapy I went through to try to heal from his bullshit? The emotional scars are fading, I guess.” She runs her hand along her belly and across her thighs. “But these? These will never go away.”

What could I say? Words seem pointless. There are no words to heal. Only time and love can do that. So I just hold her.

CHAPTER THREE

THE WEEK FLEW BY and it’s already Monday. I wish the company party were on a Friday, but what can you do? This is the first year I’m attending and I hear it’s awesome. It feels like a bit of a privilege, especially given the value I place on my importance at the firm; very little. Colleagues, clients, and even celebrities attend; it’s pretty extravagant. A colleague told me that last year she saw Brad Pitt, which is wild. She stared at him the entire night, but I’m pretty sure he’s used to it.

It’s my first work party and I don’t have a date. Well, I do, and it’s Fran, which is okay. We get to dress up, drink champagne, and drool over hot guys. I can’t think of anything better to do with my best friend. And I get to wear the dress Fran coerced me into buying at Bloomingdale’s.

After I’m dressed, I glance at myself in the full-length mirror. My nerves are on end because I’m not used to wearing clothes this revealing. I practically feel naked. My only saving grace is that I leave my hair down so it’s sleek, shiny and straight. It lands on my breasts and covers up some skin. The silky fabric of the dress falls just past my clean-shaven thighs; shorter than I normally wear, but not so short that someone will have a heart attack if I bend over.

I hear my mother and father in my head.
Dear, your private parts should not be on public display like that, it will attract the wrong type of person; like Clark.
Sitting down on my bed, I put my head in my hands. My mother’s an idiot. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Clark was exactly the right type of person.

I try to gather my thoughts and rekindle my excitement for the night. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Fran obviously thinks I need it and maybe she’s right. When I walk out of my room, the sight of her jars me from any wayward thoughts. She looks absolutely stunning in a short, black, fitted, off-the-shoulder dress, complemented by red stilettos. Her black hair is pinned up in a messy bun and her makeup dramatic.

“Fran, you look gorgeous.” I’m consistently blown away by her beauty.

She gives me the once over and it appears she approves. “You look beautiful, Gabby! Really sexy! In fact, you might even get yourself laid tonight.”

Fran and her one track mind.

* * * * *

THE PARTY IS BEING held at the gorgeous W Hotel in Union Square. The event is attended by about two hundred people. Clients, employees, and local celebrities flock to the party every year. As we arrive at the W, I’m instantly pleased that Fran suckered me into buying this dress. The women look stunning, and the guys, well, they’re seriously mouth-watering. Photographers are snapping pictures left and right. If there was a red carpet, I’d think we were at The Oscars.

Fran looks over at me with a wide smile. “Let’s rock this joint.”

We wave to cameras and keep an eye peeled for celebrities as we walk into the party and check in. The Landon & Castell party is nothing if not exclusive.

We’re immediately blown away by the ballroom. It’s decorated in blues and silvers, with sparkly crystal chandeliers over each table and overflowing vases of lilies and irises in the center. Ice sculptures surround the room, the lighting is dim, and there are several small circular candle holders on each table, adding to the ambience. Soft jazz plays in the background; it’s actually quite romantic and makes me feel a bit melancholy.

Fran grabs us champagne and hors d’oeuvres and I introduce her to several of my colleagues and a couple of our clients. She’s a bit disappointed that none of them are single, as her main goal of every outing is to find a man.

When we move away to find our table assignment, I fix her with a stern look and raise a finger. “Fran, you can’t, and I repeat
can not,
flirt with any of my clients.” That could get me in trouble. Trouble is Fran’s middle name.

She grins. “Who, me? I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Soon I’m feeling good and slightly buzzed. The guys are making the rounds to see my cleavage tonight, so I must’ve done something right. It’s nice for a change, and boy, would it piss off my mom. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

There are some pretty cute guys at work, but I remember Fran telling me she got involved with someone in her office and it ended terribly. That’s a whole ball of shit I’m not interested in rolling in.

We’re having a great time, eating lobster stuffed pastries, sautéed mushrooms, and other delights that waiters are bringing around on silver trays. The champagne is flowing freely. Fran hands me a glass and we link arms to begin our first round of the room. I trip over something invisible and nearly spill my drink all over my new dress. My face pales, my heart rate spikes, and my legs suddenly feel like jello. There he is again.

Fran looks worried. “Gabby, what is it?”

“Well…oh shit.” It’s pointless. My mouth goes limp as I watch him move gracefully towards us.

Fran scans the room frantically to find the source of my unease. It doesn’t take her long to find the long legs, attached to the broad shoulders, attached to the fine hips, attached to the gorgeous face with the emerald green eyes.

“Holy crap! You weren’t kidding. He is super hot! Gabby, he’s headed this way.”

Just great. Unable to speak, I can only pray that drool isn’t running down the corners of my painted lips.

He reaches us in long, quick strides. “I thought I recognized you from across the room, and I realized we were never formally introduced the other day. I’m Dane Rhodes.”

His voice is smooth, like the finest of silks. After nothing but silence for several seconds, Fran elbows me and I realize I’d better open my mouth and say something. Like maybe proposition him for sex.

“I’m Gabrielle Willis, and this is my friend, Fran Heller.” I feel his eyes cut through me like shards of glass and a thrill courses through my body. Suddenly, I’m grateful for Fran’s sense of style. A definite improvement over the yellow sundress and bushy ponytail he caught me in during our awkward encounter at The Brew House.

After endless mutual staring, the smooth voice speaks. “So, what brings you two here?”

“I work for Landon & Castell, and Fran is my date for the evening.” Oh my God, did I seriously just say that?

“That’s hard to believe. I can’t imagine a gorgeous woman like you wouldn’t be able to find a date.” Okay, so he’s definitely flirting.

Fran saves the moment and finally says, “So Dane, what brings you to this event?”

“I’ve just signed on as a client with Landon & Castell. They’re going to be decorating my apartment on the Upper East Side. Now that I know you work for them, I’ll know where to find you.” Then, with a cock of his eyebrow, he says, “well, I’m going to mingle a bit. Nice meeting you both.”

When he walks away, Fran and I use the moment to admire his extraordinary ass. I don’t know that I’ve ever called an ass extraordinary before, but well, it just is.

Fran can hardly contain herself. “Gabby, he’s…he’s…well, he’s amazing! You weren’t exaggerating one bit. The images my mind is conjuring up right now. Oh, the things I’d like him to do to me...”

“Okay, Fran. I get it. But remember, I saw him first.”

Fran shakes her head and wrinkles her nose. “Screw you. What are we, in high school?”

My mind drifts from Fran over to Dane for a moment. He’s a client with the firm. What are the chances of that? Does this mean I can’t go for him? I certainly didn’t pay enough attention in our employee orientation to know if this kind of thing would be against company rules.

Fran and I make our way across the crowded room to one of the buffet tables and grab some more champagne. “Fran, don’t you think it’s odd that Dane was here? I mean, especially after our run in at the coffee shop. Doesn’t that seem a bit too coincidental?”

She stops slurping and her eyes meet mine. “Does it really matter, Gabby? This is your chance. Look at it as a gift.”

We’re having a great time laughing, drinking, and ogling. I’m so glad I brought Fran. When I look over at her, she tosses her hair back.

“Check out our man at three o’clock. Plaid tie, checkered pants, hungry look. He wants you.”

I howl with laughter. “Fran, in this case, you can have first dibs. He’s all yours.”

CHAPTER FOUR

FOR SOME REASON, I wake up very early the next day. In fact, when I look at the clock it’s only five a.m., which means I have two extra hours to stay in bed and daydream. Hmmm…a Dane Rhodes daydream perhaps. I wonder when I’ll see him again. Now that I know he’s a client of the firm, maybe I can make it happen. Determination is one quality I’m not lacking.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen back asleep until I hear the annoying buzzer go off on my alarm clock. Pushing the hair out of my face, I will my legs over the side of the bed and take a moment to fully wake up. My head doesn’t feel too bad, given the amount Fran and I had to drink last night. Making my way out to the kitchen, I pull out a jug of Poland Spring, reach up for a glass from the cabinet, then listen to the glug, glug, glug of the water filling the glass. Maybe I am still a little drunk. I gulp it down and set the glass in the sink, dragging my ass to the bathroom and into a hot shower. My thoughts wander to Dane and I suds my body a little bit too much.

When I get in the subway car, my mind continues to be consumed with all thoughts Dane. That is, until the wonderful odor of sweaty human bodies flies under my nose. Ugh. I take a seat, try not to touch anything, and basically shrink into myself to make sure no one comes near me. This is the only thing I don’t like about Manhattan. The daily dose of railings that are laden with fresh boogers, seats stained with God knows what, and strangers with bad breath hovering over me. Crap, I forgot my Purell!

Arriving at the coffee shop for my much needed caffeine, Brad smiles at me from behind the counter. “Good morning, Gabby. Are you here to use the bathroom, or did you want coffee?”

I can’t help but smile. “I didn’t realize you also moonlighted as a comedian. No to the first question, and yes to the second.” Since I’ve got some time this morning, I take a seat at one of the tables to review my to-do list for Robby.

Brad brings my coffee over to the table. “You look especially cheerful this morning, Gabby. Does it have anything to do with that guy from the other day? Are you dating him or something?”

“What makes you think my mood has anything to do with that?”

“Just an educated guess.”

“Okay, this is incredibly scary. Are you doing a mind meld on me?”

“A mind meld? No, but the way you were looking at him the other day like you wanted to…” He stops and a tiny smile turns up one corner of his mouth. “Lick chocolate off his stomach or something. It was a dead giveaway.”

“Like I wanted to do what?”

“You know...lick...”

“Yeah, I heard you, no need for an echo.”