Page 55 of No Strings Attached
As she turns back to her team, I glance toward the swinging door that separates the kitchen from the main hall. The woman’s face flashes in my mind again, followed by that twisting feeling in my gut.
I shake it off and refocus. I’ve got a job to finish, and something tells me this night is far from over.
Just then, a warm hand wraps around my wrist. My breath catches.
Henson is holding out a crystal flute of champagne. “It looks like you need this.”
I laugh softly and take it. “You’re not wrong.”
He doesn’t let go right away. “And this.”
With his free hand, he grabs a plate from a passing server—mini crab cakes, something cheesy and baked—and presses it into my hands.
“Please eat. I can’t have you passing out on me before midnight, Temptress.”
The now familiar nickname lands like a spark radiating down my spine.
My mouth goes dry.
“I—”
But Henson leans in before I can finish. His hand cups my cheek and tilts my face up.
He kisses me, slowly, like there’s no one else in the world but the two of us. The moment our kiss deepens, glass tinkles against glass from the other room, and Henson groans against my mouth.
We break apart, breathless, laughing.
“That timing is criminal,” he mutters.
We rejoin the crowd just as Nadine, glowing in a floor-length emerald gown, lifts her champagne flute.
Everyone quiets.
“While we wait for the big countdown to midnight, I wanted to take a moment to say thank you. To all of you—our friends, our family—for being here. There’s something beautiful about ringing in the new year surrounded by the people we care about.”
I smile, heart full.
“Before we move on,” Nadine continues. “I want to acknowledge the incredible woman who brought all of this together.” She turns her gaze toward me. “Amira, this space is stunning. You’ve poured your heart into every detail, and we are so lucky to have had you steering the ship.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks as people raise their glasses to me. I lift my glass in return, trying to downplay how flustered I am, but my chest swells.
I glance at Henson and his eyes are already locked on me, a proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Now, since we’re already on the subject of gratitude—I’d like to talk about love,” Nadine adds, and there are a few knowing chuckles from the crowd.
“This season, more than any other, reminds us how deeply we need one another. There’s something sacred about loving and being loved through the holidays. It reminds us that joy doesn’t always come with fanfare—it’s often found in the people who stay.”
As Nadine is speaking, the glamorous woman from earlier steps up to her side.
The air shifts, and I feel the tension rippling through Henson beside me.
His jaw tightens, eyes fixed on the woman now walking toward him.
Something is happening.
Her expression is soft, like she’s just found something long lost.
“Surprise, my love,” the woman says. “I missed you so much.”
