Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I squeezed her hand back, but I had no idea what to say. I’d love to see it would be true, but it seemed cruel considering what Dominic was here to do. I snuck another look at him and saw his jaw had tightened. He wasn’t going to waste time with preliminaries or let Mrs. Kloss indulge in this fantasy for another minute. He was going to break her heart before we even put in our orders.
“I’d love to see pictures of last year’s event,” I heard myself saying.
“Would you?” Dominic’s voice rumbled unpleasantly.
“Oh, I have them right here!” Mrs. Kloss pulled out the largest smartphone I’d ever seen. It dwarfed her small palm, but her fingers moved over it with quick, sure movements. Before Dominic could back us out of this wrong turn, she had the album pulled up.
I could see immediately that I would have loved the Christmas ball. It looked like this little bistro, but on a grand scale. They’d turned the space into an actual winter wonderland and packed it with guests wearing impossibly elegant outfits. There was even a picture of Dominic smiling wryly in a classic black tux, his arm around Jake’s mom, Marjorie. They had a similar smile and coloring, but her smile was wider and there was warmth in her eyes that didn’t touch his.
I could also see that the party must cost a medium-sized fortune. The entertainment alone was a famous pop artist who had to have cost at least a million for the night. If Dominic was right and Mrs. Kloss’s fortune was running low, this party really was a bad idea.
My heart squeezed with sympathy as I reached a picture of Mrs. Kloss standing by a life-sized poster of a man dressed like Santa Claus. I’d never seen Mr. Kloss, but I could tell by the unusually wistful look on her face that this must have been her late husband in happier times. This event had been his idea, I remembered her telling me. He’d loved children, but they’d never been able to have any.
I wondered if, in some ways, this event was their baby. His legacy. Something she imagined stretching into perpetuity long after they were both gone, reminding the world that they had been here. That they had cared.
“Mrs. Kloss, we need to talk about the Christmas ball,” Dominic said firmly. “As I’ve mentioned–”
But before he could finish his sentence, Mrs. Kloss was up and bustling toward the restroom, calling over her shoulder, “So sorry, must whisper!”
“Whisper?” I echoed, staring after her. For an old woman, she could certainly move fast when she wanted.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dominic exploded, turning the full power of his icy gaze on me. I was glad we had a booth between us because I think if I had been sitting next to him, I’d have frozen to death.
I didn’t bother pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about. I’d deliberately delayed his agenda by asking to see those pictures and reminding Mrs. Kloss of how much she loved the event certainly wasn’t going to help him talk her out of it. Ordinarily, I would have apologized. He’d told me to keep my mouth shut. He’d even held my job over my head to ensure I did. But even though my dreams of sharing a safe three-bedroom apartment with a twenty-four-hour doorman with Christi were in danger, I couldn’t stay silent.
“You cannot be this heartless.” I leaned forward, careful to keep my voice down in case Mrs. Kloss came out of the bathroom with the same speed she’d entered. “This Christmas ball is clearly the highlight of this woman’s year. It’s how she honors her late husband, and I bet it raised a lot of money for kids.”
“And none of it is any of your business.” Dominic leaned forward, too, but he clearly didn’t have the same concerns I had regarding being overheard because his voice snapped out across the restaurant. A woman and her young daughter, both of them in matching red velvet dresses, turned to stare at us.
“She’s making it my business,” I hissed. “And look, I know you’re trying to do what’s best for her—”
“I’m trying to do my job,” Dominic corrected, lowering his voice fractionally. “Incidentally, it’s the same as yours. In case you weren’t clear, protecting the financial interests of our clients is more important than throwing parties.”
We were only a few inches apart now. The razors in his voice should have cut me but I couldn’t give up. I’d come this far. I had probably already lost my job. Retreating now would only get me a front row seat to Mrs. Kloss’s devastation. “What if there was a way she could do both?” I asked, a desperate idea dawning. “What if I helped her throw a budget-friendly Christmas ball?”