When the pleasure subsided, I felt weird and embarrassed, as usual. Maybe my father was right. Maybe I was a wuss. I couldn’t expand the business. I couldn’t gain my board’s trust. And I was masturbating in my shower after not having sex in a year.
Pissed off, I exited the shower and dressed. I put on a red tie, which was as festive as I’d get. I’d show up to the office party for my staff. Hell, maybe Ms. Pearson would be there in something sexy to add to my fantasy. Yep. I was pathetic.
CHAPTERFOUR
Reyna
I don't know why I was nervous about attending the Christmas Eve office party. While James was still grumpy and prone to snarky outbursts, for the most part over the last week, we got along. Or at least we had an understanding. Something had shifted over dinner last week that made me feel more secure in my job. He seemed impressed by what I had discovered about his father and the board, and therefore, he didn't treat me like I was incompetent anymore.
Still, it was one thing to be in an office and working with people and a whole other thing to be in the office socializing. I didn't mind making friends. In fact, I wanted to, but I didn’t want to have to reveal all the circumstances around my moving to Las Vegas. I don't know why I felt shame or embarrassment since it was Dean and my parents who had betrayed me. I suppose it was a blow to the ego that I wasn't important enough to any of them for them to be loyal to me.
My next problem was what to wear. I’d found a nice consignment store and had bought two skirts and five shirts. I figured I could alternate the skirts and wear a different shirt. I had shoes because I’d come to Las Vegas to get married. My wedding shoes were cream colored, but I bought another pair of black shoes, which didn’t necessarily go with the navy skirt, but oh, well. When I learned about the office party, I went back to the consignment store looking for a holiday dress. All the red ones were either too small, too smutty, or too old. I bought a dark green dress that was the right amount of cocktail-party style without being too risqué.
I looked around the room, recognizing many of the staff mingled with people I had no clue about. James’s gaze caught mine, and he excused himself from whoever he was talking to and started toward me.
I felt partly relieved because it was embarrassing to stand by myself, and yet it was nerve-wracking to think about small talk with my boss. I noted his gaze taking me in again, like he had the first time we met. The first time, I was wary. This time, I sort of liked it.
“How are you this evening, Ms. Pearson?”
I smiled, hoping I looked like I was having fun. “Mr. Dunsmore. Very well, thank you. Everyone has been very welcoming to me.” I hadn’t actually chatted to anyone, but I didn’t want him to feel sorry for or responsible for me.
“I’m glad to hear it. Can I get you a drink?”
“Okay. I suppose one won’t hurt. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the boss.”
He smiled. It was strained, but I understood he was under a lot of pressure. “What’s your poison?”
“White wine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
James went off, leaving me alone. As nervous as I was about mingling socially with the staff of the company, once again, I felt self-conscious about being a wallflower. I really needed to work on my self-esteem.
The woman he had been talking to just before he came over to me made eye contact and started toward me. I'd never seen her before, but whoever she was, James respected her. When he was talking to her and the man with her, he still looked grumpy, yet more relaxed than when he was talking to anybody else.
When she reached me, she held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Amelia Clarke. I'm James's sister."
I shook her hand. "I'm Reyna Pearson, Mr. Dunsmore's new assistant."
Amelia smirked. "I hope he's not giving you a hard time."
"Nothing I can't handle." As soon as the words left my mouth, I second-guessed the wisdom of them. Mrs. Curtis had told me James and his sister were close, and my remark could be construed as forgetting my place.
She smiled. "Good. James needs a strong woman in his corner."
It was the same thing Mrs. Curtis had told me.
James returned, handing me the glass of wine. He carried a glass with clear liquid and ice, but I suspected it was more potent than water. "You're not telling stories on me, are you, Amelia?"
Amelia cocked a brow in surprise, as if she thought his question was odd. "No. Why would I be telling your new assistant stories about you?"
He glanced at me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. It was almost as if there were something more between us, which was ridiculous because there wasn't. The fact that I kept thinking that, though, was disturbing. It was almost as if I wanted him to look at me in a way other than just being his secretary.
He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "No reason."
Amelia looked from him to me and then back to him again. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to ferret something out. I wasn't sure if she found what she was looking for, but eventually, her features relaxed. "Are you new to Las Vegas?" she asked me.
I nodded. "Yes. I've only lived here for a couple of weeks."