I’d been hovering with the car door open, trying not to butt into their conversation, but with a deep breath, I stepped out of the car. I reached for my jacket, feeling the chill seep into my skin. “Hello, Mrs. Donoghue.”
“Miss Peyton!” Aly cried. “You look beautiful.”
I laughed as I pulled my coat on. “Thank you, Aly.”
“Hello, Peyton dear. Please just call me Marie.” She pulled me into a hug. “And you do look beautiful.”
“Thank you. And thank you for watching Aly.”
“We’re going to have so much fun,” Aly said. “I have a gingerbread house we can make, Grandma.”
“Do you? Well, why don’t we go inside and put that together after we get some dinner in you? How does that sound?”
“Yes!”
“Give your dad a hug and kiss good-bye.”
Aly darted back over to Isaac, who, up until that point, hadn’t said a word. He was just staring at me in awe. I flushed at that look, which was both mesmerizing and filled with desire. But when Aly reached him, he broke his stare and lifted her into his arms, planting a kiss on both cheeks.
“Be a good girl for Grandma.”
“Okay. I love you, Daddy.”
He squeezed her one more time and then set her down. His mom kissed him on the cheek. “Have a good night,” she said before taking Aly’s hand and heading inside.
“You look stunning, Peyton. That dress…” He shook his head.
“Thanks. Piper helped me find something. I really didn’t bring anything but dance clothes with me.”
He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s perfect.”
I flushed all over at the way he’d said it. The sultry quality to his voice and the heat layered through every syllable. It didn’t hurt that he looked really fucking good. I’d seen him in a suit before, of course, after he got off work, but it had nothing on this one. It had clearly been tailored, and the sharp black material fit his broad shoulders and cut in sharply to his waist. I wanted to tug on his dark blue tie and pull him into me. The feeling was so intense that I actually took a step backward.
“The party,” I managed to get out. As if saying it out loud might make it seem like something I was actually interested in…rather than finding a quiet place alone for the evening.
He chuckled softly and then walked around the truck to open the door for me. I thanked him and then settled into the passenger seat. The drive to the party was thankfully short. Truly, you could get anywhere in Lubbock in under twenty minutes, but the space was filled with lingering tension. I hadn’t forgotten that kiss after our date…or how eagerly I’d invited him inside. We’d both known what that meant…what we wanted. And that heat hadn’t cooled.
The Wright Construction Christmas party was being held at the Overton, a large hotel downtown, across from the Texas Tech campus. Apparently, it was usually held on the top floor of the Wright building, in their private restaurant, but some people had—correctly—requested someplace other than work for their big holiday event. The Wrights had complied.
We checked our coats at the door and then headed into the massive ballroom, decorated for the Christmas season in a collage of red, gold, and silver. Circular tables filled the perimeter of the room with gold-rimmed plates, festive red napkins, and extravagant floral centerpieces. Waiters in tuxedos walked the room, holding trays of bubbling champagne flutes. There were three open bars, which already had lines, and a stage at the back of the room with a band playing holiday hits. The room had three sets of doors, which opened onto a long marble balcony with an elaborately carved balustrade and outdoor heaters. Everything looked magical and flush with opulence.
Isaac stopped a passing waiter and grabbed us drinks. We drank a lot of champagne at ballet functions back in the city. It had taken me forever to get used to the taste, but now, I enjoyed it.
“I can’t believe this,” I said to Isaac with wide eyes. “They must have spent a fortune on this party.”
“It’s their biggest party every year. They host a number of charity events, but this is when they give back to the employees. Christmas bonuses went out today and then the party. Jensen always went overboard, but now that Morgan is the CEO, she’s practically doubled the budget for it.”
“Morgan, Morgan?” I asked in surprise. “Wasn’t she a few grades younger than us?”
“Yeah. Two years, but she’s really taken the mantle and owned it. No one wanted Jensen to step down, but Morgan is more than competent.”
“Wow,” I whispered.
CEO before she turned thirty. What an accomplishment.
“Come on. Let me introduce you to Jordan,” he said, putting his arm around my waist. “He’s the Wrights’ cousin. He moved here from Vancouver, where he had been running the Canadian branch of Wright Construction. The minute he stepped in, he immediately took over the performing arts center. project At first, we were worried that he’d be pretentious, like he was entitled to the spot, but he might be the hardest-working person in the building. Well, since Jensen left at least.”