"When you're not being honored at an awards dinner," Topher said.
I smiled at his prim tone. "Well, Ms. Nichols' image is all thanks to you, so I can't complain."
My young assistant's ears reddened. "I'll go and find our table. You just mingle. And enjoy yourself."
&nb
sp; His reminder was serious. Even Stan had complained that all my tabloid shots looked too stern. I still wasn't used to the pomp of high society charity events, and they often made me feel stiff and awkward.
Luckily, this was a local awards dinner hosted by and for the communities I was helping. It was a relief to see the server staff were volunteers; no white gloves in sight. I thanked the young woman who brought me a glass of wine, and she smiled. It felt good to be around real people and not in a room of people playing a role.
Stan kept on at me about playing my role. Now that I was officially known as a billionaire, I needed to act the part. Ivy had decked me out in an entirely new wardrobe; Barbie was using her nesting instincts to decorate my new home, and Topher deferred to me like royalty. It all made me cringe, but it was a small price to pay for the work I was able to get done.
I glanced around the room and noted a few charitable CEOs who I recognized. While two stood off to the side clearly discussing their next trip to St. Barts, one was engaged in discussion with a volunteer server. I watched as the two economically polarized people smiled and laughed. The CEO then clapped the volunteer on the shoulder. It was a genuine exchange, and as I sipped my inexpensive wine, I started to enjoy myself. Somewhere there existed a network of ultra-rich and yet low-key people, and I vowed to find them.
With that in mind, I scanned the room again. It was a smaller gathering, but there were still enough people to fill the banquet hall and make it a maze of clustered conversations. In my vicinity, there were discussions of best golf courses, Napa Valley vintages, and the cost of maintaining a community swimming pool. As I wound my way around a round table, I heard opinions on why Rome was the place to be, how to make a billion dollars flipping commercial real estate, and why pancake breakfasts are the best charity fundraisers.
It was easy to remember to smile as I wove amongst the varied conversations, taking note of those in my tax bracket who still sounded like regular people. I was just about to join a discussion on using goats for median maintenance when someone bumped into me.
"Tasha, I mean, Ms. Nichols. So nice to see you again," Rainer said.
I was speechless and felt my bottom lip drop open like a fish's mouth. Rainer turned his back on the men he'd been talking to, a powerful duo straight from Wall Street, and focused entirely on me. I popped my mouth closed, but couldn't think of a word to say.
"You know, I think the last time we met like this, out socially, it was on James Berger's yacht. Do you remember that party?" Rainer asked.
I narrowed my eyes but managed to stick my smile back in place. "It's always nice to see an old co-worker. How are you?"
Rainer smirked. "So casual. So polite. Definitely the Ms. Nichols who most people know."
"And what is wrong with casual and polite?" I asked.
"Is that how you would describe our meeting at that yacht party?" Rainer asked.
I fought the urge to punch him in the shoulder. "I much prefer parties like these, don't you?"
"Oh, look, your drink’s low. Let's get you a refill." Rainer caught my arm and gracefully escorted me across the banquet hall to a quiet corner just past the beverage table.
A server brought over two glasses of wine and I turned to her. "Thank you. Oh, your name tag says you work in recreational aquatics—"
Rainer took the glasses. "We were just discussing boats and boat parties."
The volunteer smiled politely and slipped away, leaving me to face Rainer and his determined conversation alone. I took a sip of my wine and looked desperately for any other conversation to join.
He stepped closer to me and the warmth of him mixed with his intoxicating cologne swept over me. My polite smile slipped, and I caught myself licking my lower lip.
Rainer did not miss my reaction. He slipped an arm around my waist. From across the room, we probably looked like old, familiar co-workers surveying the room together, but I felt his fingers flex over the curve of my hip. A shot of desire singed through me and, instead of pulling away, I leaned closer. I couldn't help myself.
"So, you'll have to tell me if that plan of yours worked or not." Rainer clinked his wine glass against mine.
"What plan?" I asked. I couldn't pull away without making a scene.
Rainer's fingers stroked the silk of my sundress in hot, lazy circles. "The plan to get me out of your system. I told you, it didn't work for me. Have you been faring any better?"
I moved then but his arm encircled me and my breasts bumped against the front of his sports coat. It took a full five seconds before I managed to step back. I then counted another five before trying to respond.
My voice was breathless. "Do you really expect me to admit anything to you?"
Rainer laughed and luckily Topher took that as the signal that he could now approach. "It's so nice to see you two together."