Page 62 of The Dance
“I’m still sorry. I wish I could change how horrible I was to you back then.”
“The past is the past. Let’s focus on the future. Okay?”
“Okay,” she beamed. “So, tell me, how fancy is this party?”
* * *
The marketing teamcame up with a new idea for the next quarter, and I approved it.A New Year, A New Beginning,was what they called it. I liked it because that was what I thought Stacey and I were going for.
The past was the past.
In the days leading up to the party, I thought about what would happen at the party. I knew what I wanted to happen at midnight, and I knew how I wanted the night to end. I just didn’t knowhowto make it happen.
Even though we had flirted here and there, I didn’t think Stacey wanted me the way I’d wanted her for so many years. Plus, she dated for a living. She knew how to fake it, and I didn’t want that. If anything were to happen between us, I wanted it to be genuine. But would it be awkward if thingsdidhappen between us? Our parents used to date, and there was a time I thought Stacey was going to be my sister. Granted, that hadn’t stopped me from fantasizing about her. Over the years, I’d thought it was teenager hormones, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
As I sat in my corner office, I pulled up our database and searched her name. I wanted to see how many dates she’d been on and with whom. Given I had access to all accounts, and we vetted everyone—even our babies—I was able to find her with her real name. I couldn’t tell how many men she’d been on dates with exactly because once they went on their first date, they usually made plans outside of the messages on the app unless the daddies were married or didn’t want a baby to have their phone number. And by dates, I meant men she’d fucked. I knew not all dates led to the bedroom, but I had to assume most of them did because that was usually why daddies—including myself—sought a baby.
Looking at her profile didn’t make me feel better. She’d communicated with a lot of men. I couldn’t blame her. I had my fair share of sugar babies over the years, but Iwasjealous. Would I have tried to connect with her if I had known she was a part of Sweethearts? I wasn’t sure I would have had the guts to send her a date request.
How did I have the balls to invite her to the New Year’s Eve party?
Thank God I did, because I would have been kicking myself if I had walked out of that coffee shop without finally taking my chance. But I did take my chance, and I was going to sweep her off her feet.
Plus, I had good news for her.
* * *
While Stacey toldme she could book and pay for her own hotel room, I still did it for her. It was bad enough she was driving by herself from Houston. Since I checked her in before she arrived and got a key to her room, I made my way to her room to leave a surprise for her.
On the king-size bed, I put a bag of lemon drops and a note that read:
In case tonight gets a little crazy.
-E
When we were in high school, Stacey always had a bag of lemon drops in her desk at her mom’s growing up. At first, I thought it was because she loved them, but after watching her suck on them on Saturday mornings after she went to parties Friday nights, I quickly learned she ate them because it helped with her hangovers. I tried it a few times myself, and sure enough, they worked.
I left her room and headed to mine, sending her a text on my way:
I checked you into your room. Just stop by the front desk for your key. See you in a few.
An hour or so later, Stacey texted back:
Got the candy. Thank you. Can’t wait for tonight!
* * *
Since Brody gotus the tickets for the party, we made plans to meet up at the event. To us, it was a networking event, but to me, it was also a chance to get closer to Stacey, and as I got dressed, I felt as though I was dressing for a date. A real date. A date I’d wanted for years.
I stuck some small promo cards into the inside tux pocket of my jacket and my cell in the other before I left my room to go to Stacey’s two floors down. We were eating at the restaurant inside the hotel before going up to the top floor for the party.
Stepping off the elevator, I made my way to her room and knocked. The moment the door swung open I lost the ability to breathe. She was in a short, silver dress that had sequins on top and came to the middle of her thighs, but all I saw were her legs, which were accentuated by her silver strappy heels. My mouth watered.
“Damn, you clean up nice,” she said.
My eyes moved back to hers, and I cleared my throat. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.” She did a cute little number, fanning the skirt with one hand.
