Chapter 17 - The Ballroom Floor
|
The gala was a glittering sea of Seattle’s elite. Billionaires, politicians, and socialites mingled beneath the crystal chandeliers, sipping expensive champagne.
For the first hour, I remained anxiously by James’s side, acutely aware of the whispered gossip rippling through the crowd. They all knew who I was. I was the former maid, the single mother who had somehow managed to capture the heart of the city’s most untouchable bachelor.
But James didn't care about the whispers. He kept his hand possessively, proudly on the small of my back the entire night, introducing me to his board members not as his estate manager, but as his partner.
Suddenly, the string quartet in the center of the ballroom shifted their tempo, beginning a slow, sweeping waltz.
The crowd naturally parted around the dance floor, waiting for the host to begin the dancing.
James turned to me, offering his hand.
“Dance with me, Grace,” he requested softly.
“James, everyone is watching,” I whispered, my face flushing with heat as hundreds of eyes locked onto us. “They know I used to clean your floors.”
“Let them watch,” James smiled, a fiercely protective, arrogant expression that dared anyone in the room to judge us. “Let them see exactly who owns my heart.”
I placed my hand in his. He led me to the very center of the polished wooden floor. He pulled me close, his hand resting securely on my waist, and swept me into the dance.
The murmurs of the crowd completely vanished. There was only the heat of his hand through the silk of my dress, the smell of his cologne, and the intoxicating, dizzying spin of the music. We moved together perfectly, a silent, public declaration of absolute devotion.
“Merry Christmas, Grace,” James whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
“Merry Christmas, James,” I smiled, resting my head against his broad chest, feeling completely, undeniably safe.
The night passed in a beautiful, surreal blur. By 2:00 AM, the last of the guests had finally departed. The massive estate fell into a quiet, peaceful silence.
I walked into the kitchen, slipping my silver heels off, my bare feet hitting the cool marble floor. I was exhausted, but it was the kind of exhaustion that comes from pure happiness, not survival.
James walked into the kitchen behind me. He had discarded his tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned his collar, looking dangerously relaxed.
He didn't walk to the fridge. He walked straight toward me, his dark eyes intense and incredibly serious.
“There is one more thing we need to do tonight,” James said, stopping inches away from me.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick, white, unsealed envelope.
My heart skipped a beat. A sudden, irrational fear spiked in my chest. Was this a termination letter? A relocation offer?
May you like
“What is this?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I took the envelope from his hand.
“Open it,” James said softly, watching me with bated breath.
