Page 18 of The Billionaire's Heart

“He’s seen all that you’ve accomplished in the short time you’ve been with the club. He’s really in quite the bind, Mia. Will you help him?”

I sigh and calculate the amount of money that I can put towards my bridal shop. My priorities need to be aligned. My bridal shop takes precedence over going out with friends. “I’m willing to do it, but I have nothing to wear for a charity gala.”

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got that all handled. Pack your bags for the weekend. A car will be by shortly to pick you up and bring you to the airport.”

“Airport? Where I’m going?”

“The jet will be waiting for you. There will be a car to take you from D.C, to the Waldorf Astoria. If you’ll give your dress and shoe size to the concierge, the staff will ensure you have the proper clothing for the event. Mr. Gallo will meet you inthe hotel lobby at seven tonight. Don’t be late. Do you have any questions?”

It didn’t sound as if his secretary expected or would appreciate questions. “Um… no, I don’t think so. You’ve been very clear.”

“Great. Thank you for doing this, Mia. You can tell me all about it on Monday at the office. Have fun. Bye-bye.”

“Bye.” I say, but Mrs. Wilcox has already hung up.

I’ve never been to Washington, D.C. Never been on a plane, jet, whatever. I’ve never been to a charity gala. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Remember the money, Mia. The dresses you’ll be able to buy and the smiles that you’ll be able to put on the bride’s faces.

There’s a knock on my front door exactly fifteen minutes later and a man in a black suit wearing a chauffer’s hat is standing there when I answer. He’s not out of breath after climbing three flights of stairs. Even more reason I need to be on this kickball team.

“Miss McIntosh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m your driver. Are you ready to go?”

I look behind me to make sure I’ve grabbed everything and notice my crochet bag and my business plan notebook sitting on my bed. Grabbing them both and stuffing them in my bag, I turn to the driver, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Very good, ma’am. Allow me.” He takes my bag and starts down towards the black Lincoln Town Car in the parking lot.

He opens the back door for me to climb in and when I sit on the tan leather bench seat; I realize I’m in over my head. But by the time I find my voice to put a stop to it, my driver has already pulled us away from my apartment.

I’m definitely gettingPretty Womanvibes here.

The plane, jet, whatever was amazing. My ears popped on the way up and on the way back down, but I just held my nose and blew. I stared out the window until all I could see were clouds. Then, I pulled out my crochet, but the stewardess handed me a file and told me that Mrs. Wilcox asked that I read and study the material to prepare for my evening.

When I looked it over, I learned all about Gallo Enterprise and the charities that Mr. Gallo supports. Tonight’s charity is for an international children’s foundation. When I realized that he’s supporting children around the world, my heart melted.

Once we landed, there was another black Lincoln Town Car waiting for me and now we’re pulling up to the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. I’ve never been to Washington, and I really wish I had time to explore our nation’s capital. We passed the Washington Monument and The White House on the way over here. But my mouth drops as we approach the hotel. It looks like a castle.

“Here you are, Miss McIntosh,” the driver says to me.

“Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria, Miss McIntosh. I’ll get your things brought up to your room.” The doorman says as he opens my door.

“Thank you.” I whisper out in a strained voice as I step out of the car and look all around me.

“Right this way, Miss McIntosh. I trust your flight was pleasant.” The doorman asks me as we enter the hotel.

“Yes.” I mumble as I take in my surroundings while trying to keep up with the doorman.

He leads me over to a desk. “This is Miss McIntosh,” he says to the desk clerk.

“Hello, Miss McIntosh. Welcome. Let me get you checked in.” A pleasant older lady with coiffed hair says to me.

“Your bags will be in your room when you arrive. Have a pleasant stay, Miss McIntosh,” the doorman says.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I keep looking around the lobby at the tray ceilings and columns; the plush carpet and the man playing the piano in the lobby's corner.

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