Page 102 of The Bodyguard Affair
“Em?” I nudge her, my tone urgent.
She pulls her gaze from the screen and turns. “Yeah?”
“Can you call the Realtor to set up a showing?”
Chapter 46
Andi
I’ve worked a couple black-tie events for Gretchen, but none as opulent as this gala.
To be fair, the Renaissance-inspired grand ballroom at the Fairmont Château Laurier doesn’t need much. It’s exquisite on its own, with massive crystal chandeliers, ornate moldings from the floor all the way onto the ceiling.
Tonight, it’s bathed in a soft, golden glow. Each table is topped with towering floral arrangements, their vibrant petals and greenery romantically spilling onto the tabletops. A live band is stationed in the corner, playing a mixture of classical and jazz music. Admittedly, the champagne ice sculptures Gretchen insisted on look beautiful, backlit along the perimeter of the room.
The crowd is a mix of society people, foreign dignitaries, and high-ranking politicians. Some are mingling near the canapé stations, while others are dancing.
Eric and Gretchen are definitely not dancing. They’re noticeably stiff and standoffish with each other, despite the goal to look like a strong couple. Image and countering negative PR were important to Gretchen for so long, but in the last few weeks, I’m not sure she wants to pretend anymore.
It doesn’t help that they had another fight today. While ironing and steaming their outfits, I was an unfortunate witness to another bickering session. This one wasn’t explosive. It was just a lot of silence and apathy, which honestly felt worse. Explosive arguments at least showed they cared.
Currently, they’re on opposite ends of the room, chatting with other people. But the moment she spots me, she beelines it over.
“Thank you for all your work on this event—I mean it,” Gretchen says genuinely. She’s been complimenting my work a lot more these days, which I appreciate. “I don’t know what I would have done the past few months without you.”
“Of course. Actually, I was going to check on the candy bar. I didn’t see those special gummies we ordered and—”
“Andi, do me a favor and stop fretting. Go have some fun with your man. Is he here yet?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I say, brandishing a fake smile. I don’t know when or if he’s coming at all. He didn’t respond to the text I sent giving him an out, which is uncharacteristic. He’s never been one to ignore texts. That said, today was an emotional day with his mom’s official move. I wouldn’t blame him if going to a black-tie event was the last thing he wanted to do.
So I do what most awkward people do at formal events when they have no one to talk to. Head for the food. I park myself at the fondue station and make awkward small talk with an MPfrom Newfoundland, who has decided I’m the person to talk to about fiscal tax policy, while I pretend to understand all the intricacies.
“Now, if we could just get bipartisan support on the GST rebate expansion—”
I smile and nod some more, all while my brain screams for an exit strategy. I consider faking a cheese-related emergency, but even that seems like a stretch. That’s when I spot Nolan.
Holy shit. The air shifts. Even the overbearing scent of expensive perfume and political ambition fades.
He’s in a suit, not that I should be surprised. He’s always in a suit, looking like he came straight from a Bond movie set. But there’s something different about him I can’t place. Maybe it’s his relaxed posture, or the softness in his eyes when he looks at me, drawing my gaze straight to him.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?” he asks, his question cutting through like a lifeline.
I shake my head quickly, practically diving toward him. “No, please, interrupt away. You’ve saved me from hearing about marginal tax rates. I owe you big-time,” I whisper when we’re out of earshot.
He smirks. “I’m glad I could be of service.” He steps back to take me in. “You look…beautiful.” I bought this dress the other night at the mall. It’s black meshy material with off-the-shoulder straps, a pleated bodice, and a slit up the left side. It’s simple, but elegant.
“Thank you,” I say, offering him a soft smile. “So do you. How have you been?” I ask eagerly.
Nolan lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Honestly, a lot has happened. Cody got adopted, for one.”
I gasp. “He did?”
“By the perfect family,” he says, though I can see how pained he is over it from the way his eyes drop.
“I know how much you’ll miss him,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. He glances at me, and I can tell he’s grateful for the support.
“And then, of course, there was move-in day today,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck, his hand lingering there as if trying to ease the tension from the long day.
