Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’ve been acting like a big baby,” Sky tells me for the millionth time in the last two weeks.
“I’m not and I’m sick and tired of you saying that.” I hurry to put on my earrings, wanting to get downstairs and help get things ready for the party.
Gerard and Martin have done a spectacular job decorating the veranda in an elegant Valentine theme. With all the outdoor heaters scattered about, it will be so warm, no one will need a jacket.
“You haven’t taken one of Jonathan’s calls. You haven’t even gone home to visit George since your ill-fated lunch at the studio. Why you would punish your cat is beyond me.”
“George is fine. I’ve gone home several times. I just waited until Jonathan left before going in to see him.”
“There is nothing going on between Lucy and Jonathan,” Sky tells me.
“Then why did she throw herself at him like they were long-lost lovers?” Insecurity has a way of making you remember things differently than what really happened.
“How did she throw herself at him?” Sky wants to know.
“She hugged him.” I sound pouty.
“That’s it? A hug? My hairstylist kisses me on the lips and, believe me, nothing is going on there.”
“Of course, not. Fernando’s husband wouldn’t put up with that.” Pay attention, Sky.
“All I’m saying is that everyone hugs in this town and nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand, it doesn’t mean a thing. You could ask Jonathan if it meant anything if you’d bother taking his calls,” she says.
“I guess,” I answer as a wall of angst slams into me yet again. Jonathan and I had just shared the most amazing kiss. But knowing that he lied to me about having a meeting with that she-viper I work with makes me feel like an idiot.
I’ve never been threatened by Lucy before. I was sure she was lying about having a lunch date with Jonathan. When she walked into his office, every self-conscious emotion I’ve ever harbored came bubbling to the surface and threatened to drown me in a pool of self-doubt.
I probably shouldn’t have run because now I have no idea how to talk to Jonathan about what happened. He stopped calling after a week and I’ve interpreted that to mean he regrets our lip lock and is glad to be done with me.
“You look beautiful tonight,” my friend tells me, giving me a much-needed boost.
“Thank you.”
“Seriously, Em, that dress is to die for. If Jonathan does show up tonight, he’s going to eat his heart out.”
“Did Steven say he was coming?” I ask anxiously. I’ve been worried about how to act when I see him again. Should I play it cool like nothing ever happened or should I broach the subject straight on and tell him I’m sorry I threw myself at him?
“Steven doesn’t know.”
“At least the two of you found each other.” It took them five dates before they kissed, but all signs point to this being a great match.
“You and Jonathan are going to wind up together, too. Mark my words.”
I’d like nothing more, but at this moment I do not believe we’d work. He’s just too Hollywood-fancy and I’m too plain-Jane. I take a quick peek in the mirror and straighten my red cocktail dress. It’s the perfect Valentine’s Day outfit, even though I don’t have a Valentine.
“I’m glad you bought those shoes. They look great on you.”
I look down at the one-inch satin heel that a crippled ninety-year-old man could manage to salsa in and mumble, “Thanks. Why don’t you go on down? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sky walks over to me, looking like a goddess in her white, skintight dress with bright red stilettos. Then she gives me a hug and announces, “Let’s just enjoy tonight and not think about you know who.”
“Good idea,” I tell her. We both know that will be easier said than done. After Sky leaves, I take a couple of deep breaths and rally enough courage to leave my room. If nothing else, tonight will be a success because I’m bringing my single clients together. Even if there aren’t any love matches made, it never hurts to practice your flirting skills, and I’m guessing tonight will be a veritable smorgasbord of eye batting and appreciative gazes.
By the time I get to the kitchen, Gerard is clapping his hands and giving the serving staff orders for the night. The Germans are in charge of making sure everyone stays out of the house and the rented help will keep the food and drinks passed.
Gerard catches my eye after dismissing the help. He waves me over. “Try this,” he says while puncturing a cocktail wiener on a toothpick.
I open my mouth and let him feed me. “Yum! What did you do to them?”
“I replaced the ketchup with spicy barbecue sauce for more of a kick. They’re good, huh?”
“So good!” I grab a new toothpick and skewer two more.
“Mr. Silver is outside, and he’s been asking for you,” Gerard says.
“Steven?” I ask hopefully.
“Jonathan,” he tells me.
Drat and double drat! There’s nothing for it now but to face the music head on. Throwing my shoulders back and my chin upward, I start to march out to the veranda like a soldier on his way to meet a firing squad.
Jonathan looks resplendent in a black suit, like James Bond at his finest. He’s standing at the bar talking to Martin when I walk out. He doesn’t move a muscle when he sees me, but his eyes bore into me.
I want to run, but I’m frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. I wonder how long we’re going to stand here staring at each other when Jonathan finally calls out, “Emily.”
“Jonathan,” I retaliate.
“Come here,” he tells me.
“You come here.”
He shakes his head. “No. You ran out on me the last time we were together. You come to me.”
My feet start to move with a will of their own, slowly, surely. I finally manage to stop them within ten feet of him. “Keep moving,” he orders.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “No. I’ve met you more than halfway. You come to me now.”
Within a blink of an eye, he’s standing so close I have to tip my head back just to see his eyes. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks.
“It’s a nice evening, isn’t it?”
“Emily …”
“What? What am I supposed to say to you?” I demand with my hands on my hips.
“How about telling me that you’re sorry you ran out on our lunch date? How about saying you’re sorry you’ve been avoiding me and not taking any of my calls?”
“How about you tell me what you were doing having lunch with Lucy?” Put that in your pipe, Mr. Hollywood.
“My new intern scheduled the lunch. Not only did she not get my approval to do so, but she didn’t put it in my main calendar. She’s no longer my intern.”
“You fired her?”
“It’s common knowledge that you don’t schedule a meeting for your boss just because the person on the other end of the line tells you to.” Registering my appalled expression, he adds, “She’s been moved to a different administrative role until she learns enough to return to the executive floor.”
“So, what you’re saying is that Lucy called your office and told your intern that you wanted her to schedule a lunch, but you didn’t tell Lucy that, correct?”
“I don’t know who Lucy is,” he tells me.
“She said she met you at a party last month.”
“Thousands of people could probably tell you the same thing. That doesn’t mean I remember who they are.”
I look down and realize that Jonathan’s hands have snaked around my waist and he’s holding me closely. When did that happen?
“Now, did you have something you wanted to say to me?” he repeats.
“I’m sorry I missed the rest of our lunch.” Then I tease, “That club sandwich looked really good.”
“Emily …” Jonathan says in a warning tone before pulling me closer. “What else are you sorry about?”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t get any of that chocolate mousse cake.” I can’t say that without laughing.
He pulls me closer yet. “And?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get another kiss before I left,” I confess.
That seems to be the answer he’s waiting for. Jonathan’s mouth is on mine with lightning speed. The minty smell of him, the heat of him, the electricity of him, all nearly undo me.
I kiss him back like he’s my lifeline, like the very act of fusing our bodies together is the only thing that’s keeping me alive. I no longer know where I begin and Jonathan ends. We’re one large mass of light.
That’s when I open my eyes and absorb what I’m seeing. Jonathan’s aura is a bright yellow and it’s blending with my aura. The halo around us is blindingly, radiantly beautiful, like we’re sitting on the sun. Like we are the sun.
Jonathan Silver is my happy ending, and I’m his. I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt and my body positively vibrates with the knowledge.
“Emily,” Jonathan says, “thank you for helping me find my soulmate.”
“You’re welcome,” I answer before asking, “You’re talking about me, right?”
He pulls me back into a kiss, leaving no doubt in my head that I’m exactly who he’s talking about.
“I wish we weren’t having a party here tonight,” Jonathan says when he finally comes up for air.
“I just need to greet my guests and then Sky can take over,” I tell him. “We can sneak off after that.” Which we don’t wind up doing for ages.
Jonathan stays by my side for the rest of the evening. He’s charming and entertaining and just about the perfect host you can imagine. After a couple of hours, I tell him, “I could probably leave now. I’m guessing no one will notice I’m gone.”
I expect him to jump at the chance to have me all to himself, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I’m going to have you forever. I think you need to stay here and help some of these people find love as well.”
“Really?”
He seems to rethink his comment. “Help as many as you can in the next thirty minutes. After that, you’re all mine.”