Page 485 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
The ballroom took my breath away.
I’d never been important enough at Bamford’s to receive an invitation to this event. It was a fundraiser, put on by Alastair Bamford for the last two decades. Usually, this event raised staggering amounts of money, all of which went to charities to help sick and hungry children.
The entire hall was decked out in silver and gold.
Gold carpets ran across the marble floors, leading to standing tables draped in sparkling silver table cloths. Waiters dressed in white carried trays of cocktails in champagne flutes, which danced with flakes of gold on them and dusted on the rim. Pops of red appeared in frosted berries in centerpieces along with Christmas greenery. It smelled like pine and mulled spices, and as I moved deeper into the room, I spotted a harpist on a platform in the middle of the ballroom. She wore a silver gown and played lovely Christmas music that made my throat tighten.
The whole affair was absolutely stunning.
So were the people in attendance. Since this event required the purchase of an expensive ticket to attend, almost everyone in the ballroom had a last name everyone knew. There was serious money here tonight. I hoped I looked like I belonged but realized everyone would recognize me as the jingle-bell-shoed elf that had been following Chadwick around all month.
I winced.
I needed a glass of wine.
It didn’t take me long to find one on a server’s tray.
With my drink in one hand and the skirt of my dress in the other so that I didn’t trip over it, I wandered through the ballroom, my eyes peeled for the man I desperately needed to talk to.
About fifteen minutes later, I spotted him.
Chadwick stood near a window on the east side of the ballroom. He wore a black velvet suit with dark red finishes and his signature Santa hat. Tonight, he truly looked the part of a Naughty Santa. He held a drink in one hand, something dark and strong looking, while he listened to an older woman who spoke with her hands and smiled up at him with familiarity.
I wondered how they knew each other, and how rude it would be if I interrupted them and tried to steal him away.
I decided it didn’t matter. I needed to talk to him.
My heart raced as I crossed the ballroom and approached him. He didn’t see me coming, and I had to clear my throat to let him know I was there. He turned with a raised eyebrow, and his expression never even faltered when he saw me.
Had he already moved on?
Did he want nothing to do with me?
Had I hurt him when I said I needed space?
“Hi,” I said softly, “do you have a minute to talk? Somewhere private, maybe?”
Chadwick smiled at the woman in white he’d been talking to. She had to be in her late sixties, but she looked sharp in her tailored dress and silver hair. “Excuse me, Mrs. Holiday. Do you mind if I step away for a moment? I’ll come find you later and you can tell me all about Ben’s travels.”
Mrs. Holiday smiled and squeezed his forearm. “Not to worry, dear. You go on. I need to top off my drink, anyway.”
She glided away, and Chadwick watched me move toward the window, tucking us sort of out of the way of others.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.
“Well, I wanted to check in with you, I guess,” I said, suddenly feeling like an exposed wound. “About us. About what I said in your office about needing space.”
He looked around, his eyes scanning the crowd. “I don’t think tonight is the appropriate setting for us to iron out the terms of our relationship—or working relationship. We have to table it for now, Tinsely.”
I wished he’d called me Tinsel. I’d have given anything for him to use the pet name that used to drive me crazy.
He tugged at his cufflinks. “Let’s just keep it professional and get through this evening. Yeah?”
Professional. So… the opposite of what I wanted.
I forced myself to smile. “Um, sure. Okay.”
He smiled back like it was effortless for him, and said, “You should try the crab cakes. They’re delicious.” With that, he turned and left me by the window, a storm of regret and heartache brewing in my stomach.
