He flicks the cabinet drawer shut and then hurries out. Initially, I assume he’s returning to his desk, but instead heads toward one of the other doors. Bingo! That must be Uncle C's office. Tim is about to open the office door when his phone rings.
"Would you like me to deliver it?" I offer, trying not to sound too eager even though every hair on my body is standing up in anticipation of finally being in contact with Con, my darling Uncle C.
Tim looks uncertainly at the phone that keeps ringing and the office door. I make the decision for him by plucking the folder from his hand and knocking on Con's door.
"Come in," is the brusque response.
I brush a hand down my tight skirt and open the door. Uncle C is sitting at his desk. My heart pounds heavily in my chest. My thighs grow damp with excitement.
"Here you are, Mr. Romano." Oh my God. That sounds erotic.
Con's head shoots up at the sound of my voice. I catch a glimpse of surprise in his eyes before the door to his emotions slides shut. "Ms. Kaplan. Nice to see you. I hadn't realized you started today."
Liar. What a big fat liar. Con is a man who knows every little thing about anything that affects his business, so he knew very well what my first day of work would be. That he's trying to pretend like he doesn't care fills me with delight. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be acting.
"It's my very first day on the start of a new, and hopefully, lasting adventure." I place the folder in front of him and take a deep breath, pushing my breasts against the white lace bra so he can get a good view of my cleavage.
He doesn't even look up from the file. Sighing lightly, I straighten. He bends over the paperwork. If I remember correctly, the Hawkins deal is for a parcel of real estate in southern Kansas. Dad says that no one is ever going to want to build there. The land is flatter than a pancake and drier than a desert, but Con's no fool. He's made his money by sniffing out deals that everyone else had either written off or never even heard of.
One of the sexiest things about Con is his big brain. Other sexy things include his voice, his confidence, and his body. Right now, his white cuffs are folded back, revealing lightly furred arms, big hands, and prominent veins. His suit jacket is nowhere to be seen. The expensive Tom Ford shirt strains across Uncle C's perfect, muscular chest.
I was barely eighteen and Dad took me to the Yuletide Black and White Ball at the Met. The Ball is one of those silent auction-type charity events where each person pays fifty grand just to get in. The men wear custom suits sewn by hand in Italy and the women wear designer gowns from France. This was Dad’s first invitation. I’m not sure how he got it. He doesn’t run in that crowd. I know he wants to and that’s why he went despite the price tag.
He was going to bring his girlfriend of the moment—I can’t remember her name now. But they fought over something and he told me I had to be his date. At first, I refused but when I heard Con was going, I couldn’t say yes to my father fast enough. Even his instructions to be “nice” to his business associates at the ball couldn’t ruin my mood. Since Dad said that he’d spent all our money on the tickets, I went around to all the consignment shops. I found the perfect dress at the fourth one. The gown was something out of a story book. I’d never felt silk so soft or tulle that whispered like feathers around my legs. The saleslady helped me pick out a pair of shoes and she threw in a gorgeous clutch for free.
My feet didn’t touch the ground in the days leading up to the party. I hadn’t realized the silk was polyester or that little glittery handbag I carried was a knockoff until I overheard a couple of women in the ladies’ room debating whether men who brought call-girls as dates should be required to outfit them appropriately. Humiliated, I rushed out and ducked inside the first room I could find.
I hadn't realized the room was occupied until the door slammed shut behind me and my eyes met with Con’s. He was pushing a woman away that was trying to grab at the belt of his slacks.
"What the fuck are you doing, girl?" he whispered.
"I ah,” I didn’t know what to say. Were they about to sleep together or something along those lines He was going to fuck her in this room? My heart sank. He grabbed me by the arm pulling me out of the room.