Page 103 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
“That company you work for really knows how to throw a party,” Dad agrees.
I wince. “Actually, I quit yesterday.”
“What?” Dad and Houston speak together, and then Houston says, “Is that why you made me work? Which wasn’t in my contract, by the way.”
I punch his arm. “Your contract also said you didn’t have to appear until seven thirty, so anything that happened before that is on you.”
“Ah, I didn’t actually read it.”
Dad sighs. “You signed a contract without reading it? Son, how many times do I have to tell you not to be an idiot?”
Despite the insult, Houston beams. I think he loves when my dad calls him son because his own dad is kind of the worst. And currently in prison. “I’ll learn eventually,” he says, and then he scurries off to follow a passing caterer with a tray of potato bites.
The crowd shifts, and I spot Fischer skirting around a group of excited women, carefully avoiding touching them as he moves despite the attention they’re giving him. I’ve barely seen him tonight because we’ve both been making sure the party goes smoothly, but I love his timing right now.
“Fischer, I want you to meet my dad.”
He stumbles to a halt, choking on a bite of meat pie as he drops the rest of it. Though he glances down at the fallen food—Dad does too—he must decide that it is less important than greeting my father.
“Mr. Taylor,” he rasps as he approaches, still slightly choking. He holds out a trembling hand. “Fischer Bradley.”
“Bradley Properties,” Dad guesses. Though he hesitates, he takes Fischer’s hand in a firm handshake.
Fischer swallows. “Yes and no. My brother owns Bradley Properties, and I worked for him until recently.”
“And now?”
I gently slap Dad’s arm, warning him that he’s being too intimidating with his sharp questions. Fischer was already clearly terrified, and I don’t need my dad making it worse.
Still, Fischer stands tall as he glances at me and then says, “Now I’m in love with your daughter, and I plan to help her start her own event company.”
I gasp. “You do?”
Nodding, he looks at my dad as if calculating something, and then he takes my hand. “If you want to. Clearly you are capable of making magic happen, and I can help with the business side.”
“Do you understand business?” Dad asks with narrowed eyes.
“Yes, sir. I earned an MBA from Columbia and was third in my class.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I knew he went to Columbia, but I missed the part about an MBA and being so highly ranked. “Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants.”
Though I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate being called “Smarty-pants” in front of my father, Fischer still smiles at me. “I am nothing compared to you,” he murmurs. “None of this would have happened without you.”
The quartet begins a song by Frank Sinatra, one that prompts several people to start dancing. Dad nudges my arm. “Dance with him,” he suggests. “I’m going to catch up with Debbie and try to convince her to move to Colorado, and Houston wanted to talk to me about something.”
Though a part of me wants to fill my dad in on all the things that have happened recently, Fischer’s outstretched hand wins. He pulls me in, cradling me against his chest as we sway to the popular love song. A moment later, Fischer starts softly singing the words, and his smooth voice soaks through my skin into my soul.
“You can sing?” I ask breathlessly.
He chuckles but keeps singing about how beautiful I look, letting the words wash over me as he tucks our clasped hands against his chest.
“Really, though,” he says eventually. “I am in awe of you, Micah Taylor.”
My body warms, both from his words and from the way he holds me close. “You can thank Bonnie’s makeup artist. She’s basically a wizard.”
“Nope. Your beauty is all you, from the inside out. And I was serious about helping you start your own event company if you want it. You could do incredible things.”
I pause our dance, gazing up at him and trying to understand how we got here. A few weeks ago, I was still begging Lila to let me plan events, and Fischer didn’t trust me with a calendar, let alone the fate of his career. I was desperately searching for love, all the while unaware of it building right under my nose.
