Page 106 of One Night Only
“Does anyone want to put anything in my purse?” Claire asks, shaking her ridiculously large bag.
“You’re such a mom, Claire.”
“Says the girl who never has a tampon when she needs one.”
Will coughs into his drink.
There’s a knock on the door and it takes all my willpower not to start pacing. I force myself to remain by Will as Claire gets it.
“Well?” I hear Declan ask. “Will I do?”
“You look perfect,” Claire squeals. I’m shocked. Claire never squeals. I try to look around her, but she saves me the trouble as she brings him inside.
Declan stands in the kitchen wearing a midnight-blue suit.
He’s shaved but hasn’t done anything to his hair. Not that he needs to. It’s already perfect. He’s perfect. He’s—
Our eyes meet and I turn only to find Will watching me with a little smirk.
“Don’t say a word,” I whisper.
Declan approaches. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Hello,” I say, still not looking at him. “You remember Will. Myassistant.”
“Of course,” he says as Will flashes me a glare. Declan reaches past me to hold out his hand and I catch a whiff of his cologne. “Nice to see you again.”
“Thank you so much for doing this,” Claire says, grabbing her purse. “We should go.”
I frown, only halfway through my drink. “I thought you wanted to be late?”
“Yes, fashionably late. Which we will be if we leave now. I don’t want to belatelate. Then we’ll—”
“We’re going,” I interrupt before she can work herself into a frenzy. Will downs his drink as Declan winks at Claire. He looks genuinely excited about tonight.
“After you,” he grins, doing a little bow as he gestures Claire out of the room. Her delighted laugh echoes down the stairwell.
Well, that’s just…great.
I look at Will, who rolls his eyes. “Touch me and I’ll scream,” he mutters, stalking past me.
I turn to lock the door, closing it with a little more force than necessary.
Freaking great.
* * *
Claire’s boss lives in the penthouse apartment of a very large, very fancy building in Manhattan with his fancy family and fancy furniture and fancy party guests. I’m wearing the nicest jewelry I own, which isn’t saying a lot, and got my hair done at the salon that afternoon and yet I immediately feel underdressed.
“I feel like I’m in an HBO drama,” Will mutters, gazing around.
I swallow as I take in the large living space before us. It’s all beiges and cream, everything from the carpets to the wall to the furniture. Manhattan glitters behind the large windows while someone plays a grand piano in the corner.
“How did you even get three extra invites?” I ask, trying to smooth my skirt without anyone noticing.
“I caught Mr. Griffith’s assistant stealing client gifts,” Claire says, ignoring our collective look as she searches the room. Why do I get the feeling the gifts weren’t a box of chocolates and a bottle of mid-priced Malbec?
Will straightens his tie, looking uncomfortable for the first time.
