Page 103 of Flaunt
He groans. “I told her this wasn’t prom. The woman won’t take no for an answer.”
“So that’s where you get it.”
“Maybe.” He presses a sweet kiss on my cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight? Drop-dead gorgeous, Sara.”
I blush. “You have, but you’re more than welcome to keep telling me.”
He laughs, offering me his elbow. “Are you ready to go inside?”
I slip my arm through his and let him lead me to the door, pretending not to see the trio of cougars waiting to pounce. We climb a small set of marble steps to a landing. On the far wall is a massive set of heavy double doors with two large men standing beside them.
“Have I told you how hot you are tonight?” I ask as we walk down the hall toward the banquet room.
“I don’t think so.”
I nudge him, laughing. “I’ve told you a hundred times.”
“So tell me again. I like it.”
“You, Mr. Carmichael, are looking handsome and dapper in your modern classic slim-cut suit.” I lean toward him and whisper. “And all I can think of is unzipping your pants, pulling your cock out, and sitting on it.”
He groans, making me giggle.
“Good evening,” I say to the bearish gentleman holding a tablet. “I’m Sara Willis, a guest of Mr. Petterson’s.”
He taps around on the screen and then looks up. “Very well. Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you,” Banks says, ushering me into the dramatically decorated ballroom.
“Oh,wow,” I whisper, taking a moment to breathe in the beauty surrounding us.
The room is long and wide but still feels intimate. An over-the-top fireplace anchors the space at the far end, working with the stretched ceilings and tall windows to exude grandiosity in every way. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. The light reflects off the glass and gives the space a warm, elegant ambiance.Decadence.
Beautiful people mill about, some gathering in small clusters with dark-colored drinks in their hands. Chatter floats around the room just above the quiet orchestra playing through speakers hidden somewhere amongst the decor.I can see why these tickets are so coveted. This is how the other half lives.
“Well, what do you think?” Banks asks.
“I think I feel out of place. Look at these people. Look at their jewelry and their gowns. It’s surreal.”
He takes my hand and turns me to face him. His eyes sparkle. “Imagine what every other woman must feel when they look at you. I’m surprised they don’t just go home.”
My heart melts when he gives me his shy smile.
“Sara, hello.” A woman in a glorious gold dress approaches us. She’s stunning with nude-colored lips and thick dark lashes. “I’m Jennifer McKay, Mr. Petterson’s assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. This is my fiancé, Banks Carmichael.”
Banks stands tall. “Thank you for having us tonight, Ms. McKay.”
“It’s Jennifer, please,” she says, smiling brightly at us both. “Mr. Petterson asked that I find you tonight and personally welcome you to the event. He’s very pleased you could come.”
“It was so kind of him to invite us. I’m honored, truly.”
“We do apologize for the snafu in getting your invitation to you.”
I grin. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m sorry you had to go through so much trouble to deliver it. I probably wouldn’t have.”
“Well, Mr. Petterson is one of the most respectable men in this industry. He believes in acknowledging hard work and dedication. You deserved to be here, and he wouldn’t let me gohome until I found your personal email.”
