"Thank you, kind sir."
Honestly, he was right. She did look amazing, and she'd saved two pictures of the getting dressed process to her phone. She'd already texted the first one to Derek--her in a lacy bra, matching panties, a garter, and stockings. After all, why not start from the bottom up?
He'd texted back that it was cruel of her to torture him, and she'd continued to get dressed with a huge smile stretched across her face.
The second picture was as she looked now. She'd put her hair up, so that only a few tendrils fell around her shoulders, leaving the elegant neckline on full display. As for the dress itself, the bodice was fitted and zipped up the back. The material was white, but not blinding. A simple belt of grosgrain ribbon separated the form-fitting bodice from the flared skirt made of layers and layers of material.
The dress was a rare splurge, and it made her feel as lovely as Grace Kelly. Too bad Derek wasn't there to see her. But she did send him the second picture of her in the dress, too.
Now she just needed to get one more picture of her actually at the gala. Even if she left early, she'd be able to show him that she was there.
And, honestly, even with her friends there as well, she wasn't sure she could stay until midnight. That might be a little too depressing.
"You're not walking over, are you?" Reece asked.
She shook her head. "Nolan's actually getting us one of the carriages, so that should be fun."
Reece laughed. "You'll look like Cinderella."
"Speaking of, have you talked to Jenna? Last time I did, she was still looking for work after the mess with that horrible company she went to work for in LA."
"This morning," Reece said. "Terrible time of year to be looking for work."
He looked so worried about her that Amanda wished she hadn't brought it up. "She'll be fine. She's so freaking talented and--oh, there's Nolan."
Reece waved her off. "Go. Have fun in the glitz and glam. We'll be here with jeans and boots and beer."
"Don't bullshit me. This place has the best cocktails in the city."
"We do indeed," he said as she hurried through the door, then let her stepbrother help her into the carriage.
"Very cool idea," she admitted.
"I have them every once in a while," he said. "And I figured you'd need cheering up, what with your boyfriend being absent and all."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Uh-huh. Pull the other one, why don't you?"
She rolled her eyes, but didn't otherwise protest. He might not be right about the label, but she did want Derek there.
It didn't take long to reach the hotel, and once they were in the ballroom, Nolan went off to mingle. "This place is dripping with fodder for the show. I brought a notepad and a recorder." He patted his pockets. "I'm set."
She laughed, then waved him off. Then stood like a dolt wondering what to do next. She'd just noticed Brooke on the far side of the dance floor when Martin Arand came up beside her. They'd never been good friends, but she knew his name and face well enough. He was the man Zeke had entrusted with his portfolio. And the man Zeke had sponsored for a brokership.
He was the man who'd stolen her life, and all because she'd let Leo steal her heart. Bastard.
She wiped the frown off her face, then smiled up at the man. "Martin. How lovely to see you."
"I saw you here and just wanted to say hello. I know you still haven't gotten your broker's license. If you ever need a sponsor, just give me a call."
Her smile was ice. "That's so nice of you. Thanks."
"Of course, of course. Any time," he said. She resisted the urge to punch him--it was Zeke's fault, not Martin's--and the evening went on.
He had, however, reminded her of her priority. With Derek not there, she might as well network.
She'd met a few of the owners in Derek's building and that had led her to other potential clients, many of whom were here. So she mingled and chatted and flirted when necessary. But it all felt hollow and useless.