Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (10 page)

BOOK: Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance
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“What?”
he said as he paused the game and turned towards me. He was probably confused
as hell.

 

“Living
right across from her,” I said. “She’s practically famous.”

 

He
scrunched his face and shifted a bit in his seat. My question clearly made him
uncomfortable and I didn’t understand why.

 

“I
guess I see her sometimes,” he said. “Why?”

 

“I
just think it’s cool that you live by her,” I said. Good bluff, I told myself.
“I watch her on the news all the time to see what she’s wearing.”

 

He
laughed. He probably thought I was a typical girl.

 

“Do
you ever talk to her or anything?” I asked.

 

I
could tell he wanted to get back to his game. I felt like I was annoying him.

 

“Um,
just casually I guess,” he said. He raised his remote and started the game back
up.

 

“I
just found out that my boss is her stepmom,” I said.

 

“Julianne
is your boss?” he asked as he turned towards me.

 

I
furrowed my brows. “How do you know Julianne?”

 

“Oh,”
he said as he stalled a bit. “Um.”

 

He
picked up the remote and paused the game again. He was totally trying to buy
time.

 

“I
helped them move some things when she first moved in,” he said. “I met her
family then. Her stepmom was really nice and brought me dinner. I guess I just
remember her from that.”

 

“Oh,
okay,” I said. It made sense, but I wasn’t so sure I was buying what he was
trying to sell. If he hadn’t acted so weird about it, it might have been more
believable.

 

He
resumed his game and
fast forwarded
through the
commercials, and I’d decided to officially end all talk about Ayla Giovanni for
the time being. I never expected to get that sort of a weird reaction from him,
and now it was going to bother me.

 

“Hey,”
I said. “I have a favor to ask of you. And you can say no. It’s not a huge
deal.”

 

“Okay,
sure,” he said, though his eyes remained glued to the game.

 

“I
have this stupid little work party coming up,” I said. “It’s like an awards
banquet. Attendance is mandatory, but there’s awesome catering and free drinks.
Would you maybe want to go with me?”

 

He
turned towards me and smiled. “Sure, why not.”

 

“Really?”
I was shocked that it was that simple with him. He didn’t even have to give it
a second thought.

 

“You
had me at free food and drinks,” he said as he reached over and patted my knee
with his hand.

 

“Oh!”
he yelled out as he stood up. He muttered a few profanities at the screen
before sitting back down. “Damn it.”

 

I
looked up at the score to see that it was a very close game. They were going
into overtime. His head clearly wasn’t into our “game,” but I was just happy
he’d agreed to go with me to that banquet. Things were headed in a promising
direction.

 
CHAPTER 9
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My
stupid awards banquet was
a week after our Saturday afternoon
hang
out session. I’d forgotten to mention to Kevin that it was a black
tie affair until the day before, but luckily he just so happened to have a
tuxedo hanging in his closet. That Kevin was a classy guy.

 

He
picked me up in his squad car, he in his tux and I in my black, floor length,
strapless gown, and we headed downtown to the Crystal Ballroom. The Harrisville
Tribune was the biggest newspaper in the area, and when things went digital
several years ago, they were one of the first to jump on board when all the
other newspapers were stuck trying to hold onto traditional paper publications.

 

Because
of that, Harrisville was able to buy out a few other local papers and made some
good investments with some online news and advertising companies. They could
afford fancy banquets and competitive wages for their employees. I was lucky to
be a part of the group, even if my job could’ve been easily outsourced to a
computer.

 

“You
look amazing,” he said with a grin as he opened the car door for me. He
couldn’t peel his eyes off of me the entire time.

 

I
climbed in, pulling the rest of my dress behind me, and noticed he’d cleaned up
his car. It no longer smelled like day-old donuts and all the other things it
had smelled like before. The dash was oiled up and the chrome knobs were
sparkling.

 

“Car
looks good,” I said to him.

 

“Thanks,”
he replied. “It was due for a good cleaning.”

 

“Are
you on call again this weekend?” I asked as it had just dawned on me that he
was driving his take-home car.

 

“No,”
he said as he reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m just driving this because
I can.”

 

“Oh,”
I said. “Didn’t realize it worked that way.”

 

“A
lot of guys do it,” he said. “Not a big deal.”

 

We
pulled into the parking ramp by the Crystal Ballroom a little while later and
found the nearest elevator. It was a long walk, but parking was at a premium in
that part of town. My shoes were starting to dig into my heels already. I just
hoped they weren’t a bloody, torn up mess by the end of the night.

 

Arriving
a tad bit late, we checked our coats and found a table with a couple of empty
chairs towards the back. The president of the Harrisville Tribune, Mr. Vilotti,
was making his opening speech up at the microphone and the crowd was hushed
besides the occasionally clinking of wine goblets and silverware on china.

 

The
ambience was romantic. The lights were dimmed and candles were everywhere. I’d
heard that the president’s wife got to plan the banquet each year, so it was no
shock that it was always this over-the-top, romantic evening. It didn’t have
professional or work vibes at all, and that was a good thing.

 

“So
I’d just like to start out by acknowledging our guest of honor tonight,” Mr.
Vilotti said into the mic as feedback dinged our ears. “This person has been
with the paper for over fifteen years. She’s my right hand gal, and I don’t
know what I’d do without her. She’s the one who insisted we get a
jump start
on digital news, and she’s the reason you are all
still here. The Shining Star Award goes to Julianne Renner!”

 

It
was no wonder I never knew she was Ayla’s stepmom. She’d kept her maiden name.
It didn’t surprise me at all. Julianne was a ball-busting feminist who took
shit from no one and blazed her own trails.

 

The
spotlight suddenly turned towards Julianne, illuminating her entire table. To
her right sat her husband, Ayla’s father, who was beaming proudly and clapping
like a lunatic. To Julianne’s left sat none other than Ayla Giovanni herself,
and to Ayla’s left sat Antoine.

 

My
heart sunk, and for a split second I wanted to throw up. I did not expect to
see them there that night. The thought never even occurred to me that there
might be a chance I’d run into them. It made perfect sense, though. They were
there
supporting Julianne.

 

Julianne
stood up and slapped a gracious smile on her face. She grabbed her long skirt,
pulling it up a bit, and made her way to the stage. Her bright red hair played
off her lavender dress perfectly as the stage lights reflected off the sequins.

 

“Thank
you, Stan,” she said into the microphone as she accepted her award. “What an
honor. Wow.”

 

The
entire audience began to clap, and eventually everyone stood up.

 

“Thank
you, thank you,” she said to the crowd. “As Stan just said, I’ve been with the
paper for fifteen years. It’s been my life. I’m proud of the work I’ve done
here, and I’m proud of all of you. We make such a great team, and together,
we’re going to go places. Thank you again.”

 

She
held up her engraved glass obelisk and exited the stage, making her way back to
her table where her husband wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight.
Ayla followed suit before they all sat down. Antoine was smiling like an idiot,
but he seemed genuinely happy for Julianne.

 

I
couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy in that moment. They seemed so happy.
Antoine was happy. Antoine was happy without me.

 

I
felt a nudge and snapped out of it. I’d completely neglected Kevin.

 

“You
haven’t said much tonight,” he said.

 

“Sorry,”
I replied. “Guess I just don’t want to be here.”

 

“That’s
dumb that they make you attend,” he said with a shrug. “But man, the food is
amazing.”

 

I
hadn’t even realized we’d already been served our dinners. I was too busy
gawking at Antoine and the rest of the Giovanni clan to even notice.

 

I
glanced down. My dinner was still piping hot at least. The steam rose off the
top of my chicken and entered my nose. I wasn’t even really hungry, but I
grabbed my knife and fork and began cutting anyway.

 

Kevin
took a few sips of red wine before finishing off the rest of his food. His
plate was practically empty. He must have been hungry. He set his silverware
down and leaned back in his seat, stretching out his belly in the most
nonchalant way possible. He was such a gentleman.

 

I
tried to eat my food as fast as I could without seeming like a wild animal. I
could tell he was bored. His eyes danced around the room as people began to get
up and socialize. Most of the patrons were already done eating. We must have
been one of the last tables to be served.

 

I
ate about half my meal and threw my napkin over my plate.

 

“I’m
stuffed,” I said as I patted my stomach. “That was good though.”

 

I
took a few sips of wine followed by a little bit of water to cleanse my palate
and hopefully rinse off any redness lingering on my pearly whites.

 

“Should
we go make our rounds?” I asked. “I think if we say hi to enough people we
should be able to get the hell out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m
dying to kick my shoes off and change into something comfortable.”

 

“Sounds
like a plan,” Kevin said as he scooted his chair out. He stood up next to me
and helped me up, fixing my arm onto the crook of his elbow as he led me around
the room. “Who do you want to talk to first?”

 

I
sighed. “I don’t know. No one, really.”

 

Kevin
laughed. “Just pick someone.”

 

I
scanned the room only to have my eyes land on Michael.

 

“Wanna
talk to that guy?” Kevin asked after he noticed where I was looking.

 

Poor
Michael had presumably come all by himself (as he usually did), and was
standing over by the dessert table mulling over the wide array of cheesecakes,
carrot cakes, and tiramisu.

 

“I
guess,” I said as he pulled me in that direction.

 

“Hi,
Michael, how are you?” I asked, throwing on my nicest smile and friendliest
voice.

 

“Hey,
Rashida!” Michael’s face lit up in my presence and then quickly fell as soon as
he noticed my date.

 

“Enjoying
yourself?” I asked as I eyed the tempting treats.

 

“Always,”
he said with a wink. I knew he didn’t mind coming to these banquets, and I knew
he didn’t mind coming alone. I was pretty sure he went to most of his movies
alone, too. In fact, I was pretty sure he did most things alone.

 

“Rashida,”
I heard a woman’s voice say from behind me. I spun around only to be faced with
Julianne in her vision of lavender.

 

“Hi,”
I said as I leaned in for a hug. “Congrats on the award! That is awesome. You
deserve it.”

 

She
poo-pooed my comment and laughed. For a woman in power, she could be
unexpectedly humble, and I loved that about her.

 

“I
wanted to introduce you to my stepdaughter,” she said as she stepped aside.

 

Towering
behind her was Ayla Giovanni. Her long, dark hair was thick and lustrous and
framed her face perfectly. Her wide set, dark eyes were framed with the longest
eyelashes I’d ever seen, and her skin was the perfect shade of flawless bronze.

 

“Hi,”
she said as she extended her right hand.

 

I
shook her hand, which was softer than a baby’s bottom, and realized that I was
speechless. I wasn’t expecting to see her, let alone talk to her or even touch
her.

 

“You
two are about the same age,” Julianne said with a smile. “I bet you just have
loads in common.”

 

I
smiled, trying to be courteous, and Ayla said nothing. She seemed annoyed.

BOOK: Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance
2.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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