The Blind Date



For days afterward, Shawna remained in a state of shock, but she managed to go about her daily routine, pretending normality. By the time a week had passed since her argument with Ryan, she’d finally stopped constantly checking her phone to see if he had called or texted.

The day of the party she was determined to participate in the festive atmosphere like all the other guests.

“This is nice,” she said to Jerome. “Great view from up here.”

The Benson & Gates open house party was well underway. Minutes before, she’d walked over to the window in the giant conference room at the top of the new building the firm purchased in the center of the city. The law firm used only the top four floors and leased the rest. From up here she had a good view of the Atlanta skyline spanning the night sky.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Jerome asked from behind her. He wore a dark, three-piece suit and held a mixed drink in his hand.

Shawna had decided to curl her hair and sweep it to the side. The powder blue strapless dress she wore had a fitted bodice and a full chiffon skirt.

She took a good look at Jerome. “Are you having a good time?” she asked. He’d had an air of restlessness about him all night.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t want to be here,” he replied in a lowered voice. “I appreciate you coming to this thing with me.”

“No problem. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do, but why don’t you want to be here? It’s a nice event with a good turn out.”

He snorted. “I don’t like coming to company parties. Before the night is over, most of these people will be drunk, and of that number, half of them will go home together.”

Shawna cast a quick glance around the room. Considering the semiformal attire everyone wore, she couldn’t imagine them behaving the way Jerome suggested. However, plenty of liquor floated around, and corporate parties could often get out of hand.

“Why did you come if you hate these events so much?”

He sighed. “It’s good to show my face at these things, even though I don’t enjoy them.”

“Jerome, who’s this beautiful creature with you?”

They both turned in the direction of an older man with salt and pepper hair—more salt than pepper—who had walked up. Shawna stiffened when Jerome laughed and placed his hand low on her back. The intimate gesture took her by surprise.

“This is someone very special to me. Shawna Ferguson, this is Gabe Benson.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Benson.” They shook hands.

“Call me Gabe, please.” His voice boomed in the room and no one else seemed to be disturbed by it, as if they had grown accustomed to him being loud. Such a commanding voice probably worked very well in the courtroom.

“I love the table and the credenza,” Shawna commented. “They look new.”

“Brand spanking new,” Gabe said with satisfaction. “We had them custom-made by a local craftsman.” He took two steps and knocked his knuckles against the top of the table. “This is genuine mahogany, straight out of South America. It’s not easy to get the real deal anymore—so many restrictions because of the depletion of the forests and all those damn illegal loggers. It cost a pretty penny, but our guy delivered and created a work of art.” He couldn’t have looked prouder if he’d produced the furniture himself.

“Where’s Gates?” Jerome asked.

“Somewhere around here, enjoying the fact that his wife is out of town visiting the in-laws. I hope he isn’t enjoying it too much.” He made a drinking motion with his hand, and he and Jerome laughed. Shawna smiled, not entirely sure if laughter was appropriate.

Gabe pointed his finger at Jerome. “We have big things in store for this man right here. He’s one of our hardest working attorneys.”

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