“It went very well.” He nodded at someone who waved at him from another set of doors, but kept walking. “He agreed to most of my suggestions for additions and edits, and I think this bill has a pretty good chance of passing.”
“Oh! I’m so happy for you!” She squeezed his arm, inadvertently pushing her breasts against his biceps. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. When was the last time he’d been so turned on by the press of breasts against his arm? The answer was never. He’d never felt that way. The women he’d dated in the past had, for the most part, been smart and nice, but he’d simply never felt so right with any of them as he did with Meredith.
But before he could process the rest of that thought, that Meredith was the main attraction and he didn’t think he’d be able to tear his attention away when the end of the night rolled around, they entered the ballroom and she gasped in delighted surprised.
“Oh, my gosh! It’s beautiful,” she gushed. But all he could do was shake his head, because the only thing running through his mind as he turned and looked at her was Yes, you are. You really are.
***
As promised, the ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland—the whimsical North Pole, complete with white Christmas trees, wrapped “presents” arranged in centerpieces at every table, a lovely candy house on one side of the stage at the front of the ballroom, and snowflakes dangling from the ceiling. White lights everywhere gave the room a magical glow.
A thrill rolled through Meredith. It was the most incredible transformation she’d ever seen. It really did feel as if she were in a different world.
“Magic at the North Pole,” Andrew remarked, just as a waitress wearing an elf costume stopped to offer them hors d’oeuvres from a gleaming silver tray. His eyes were on her, but his face looked strange, as though he’d gotten lost and couldn’t figure out where this abundance of sparkle and magic had come from.
Her mind was whirling with a thousand thoughts a minute. Since she’d left her last foster home for college, she’d not bothered with putting up a tree, or any kind of decorations, not feeling much like celebrating on the same day that her parents had died. And now, standing here in a gorgeous gown, on the arm of an even more gorgeous man, she couldn’t help feeling that maybe she’d been wrong all these years to turn her back on Christmas.
She felt a sharp pain in her chest as the breath whooshed out of her. Definitely not the tribute to her parents that they would have been pleased to see.
Before they had died, Christmas at her house had been so magical, with a big tree and carols playing on the living room stereo. Her mother used to bake cake and pies and cookies, and Meredith would perch next to her on a stool at the counter when it was time to ice the sugar cookies.
Warmth and celebration and joy. Hadn’t this been exactly what she’d dreamed of when she’d wished for a family for Christmas? Or was she feeling this just because Andrew was the one who had given it to her?
He escorted her to a table right in front of the stage, pulled out her chair, and introduced her to several couples before murmuring, “I have to go now. I’ll be back for the main course, though.” And then he was gone, following a swiftly moving little blond woman behind the stage.
“So, how long have you and Andrew been together?” the woman to her left—Genevieve, was it?—turned to Meredith.
“Oh, we’re not together,” Meredith said, but Genevieve’s eyebrows immediately rose at those words, clearly disbelieving.
“Could’ve fooled me,” came a laughing voice from Meredith’s right, and another woman, Caroline, leaned across Andrew’s vacant chair, joining the conversation. If one could call it a conversation. To Meredith, it felt more like an exercise in humiliation at the moment, even though these women were being perfectly nice.
“He looked about ready to gobble you up just now. Are you trying to keep it quiet? You know, for the press? Because we understand how that goes.” Caroline looked back for a moment at her husband, and Meredith tried not to gape.
Caroline’s husband was the mayor of New York City. Of course she would understand wanting to keep a relationship out of the public eye.
Except Meredith wasn’t being coy, but Genevieve spoke before Meredith could convince them otherwise. “Oh, that makes sense. The way he looked all hot and possessive about you, oh!” She fanned herself with her hand, teasingly.
“Nothing like scoring the hottest young bachelor in town,” Caroline added with a laugh and a wink.
I wish, Meredith wanted to say. I wish so desperately that were true, but it’s not. He’s just my boss! Though by the time she got finished processing what they had said…gobble you up…hot and possessive…someone had tapped the microphone on the stage, just behind her, and she turned with the rest of the suddenly hushed audience to look at the speaker.