Love Love by Beth Michele Read Free Book Online Page B

how
persistent and resourceful he can be when he wants something. I
don’t want anything to do with him. Do you remember how many years
of therapy I went through to try to heal from his bullshit? The
emotional scars are fading, I guess.” She runs her hand along her
belly and across her thighs. “But these? These will never go
away.”
    What could I say? Words seem
pointless. There are no words to heal. Only time and love can do
that. So I just hold her.
    ***

 
     
    The
week flew by and it’s already Monday. I wish the company party were
on a Friday, but what can you do? This is the first year I’m
attending and I hear it’s awesome. It feels like a bit of a
privilege, especially given the value I place on my importance at
the firm; very little. Colleagues, clients, and even celebrities
attend; it’s pretty extravagant. A colleague told me that last year
she saw Brad Pitt, which is wild. She stared at him the entire
night, but I’m pretty sure he’s used to it.
    It’s my first work party and I don’t
have a date. Well, I do, and it’s Fran, which is okay. We get to
dress up, drink champagne, and drool over hot guys. I can’t think
of anything better to do with my best friend. And I get to wear the
dress Fran coerced me into buying at Bloomingdale’s.
    After I’m dressed, I glance at myself
in the full-length mirror. My nerves are on end because I’m not
used to wearing clothes this revealing. I practically feel naked.
My only saving grace is that I leave my hair down so it’s sleek,
shiny and straight. It lands on my breasts and covers up some skin.
The silky fabric of the dress falls just past my clean-shaven
thighs; shorter than I normally wear, but not so short that someone
will have a heart attack if I bend over.
    I hear my mother and father
in my head. Dear, your private parts
should not be on public display like that, it will attract the
wrong type of person; like Clark. Sitting
down on my bed, I put my head in my hands. My mother’s an idiot.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. Clark was exactly the right type
of person.
    I try to gather my thoughts and
rekindle my excitement for the night. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Fran
obviously thinks I need it and maybe she’s right. When I walk out
of my room, the sight of her jars me from any wayward thoughts. She
looks absolutely stunning in a short, black, fitted,
off-the-shoulder dress, complemented by red stilettos. Her black
hair is pinned up in a messy bun and her makeup
dramatic.
    “ Fran, you look gorgeous.”
I’m consistently blown away by her beauty.
    She gives me the once over and it
appears she approves. “You look beautiful, Gabby! Really sexy! In
fact, you might even get yourself laid tonight.”
    Fran and her one track
mind.
     

     
    The party is being held at the
gorgeous W Hotel in Union Square. The event is attended by about
two hundred people. Clients, employees, and local celebrities flock
to the party every year. As we arrive at the W, I’m instantly
pleased that Fran suckered me into buying this dress. The women
look stunning, and the guys, well, they’re seriously
mouth-watering. Photographers are snapping pictures left and right.
If there was a red carpet, I’d think we were at The
Oscars.
    Fran looks over at me with a wide
smile. “Let’s rock this joint.”
    We wave to cameras and keep an eye
peeled for celebrities as we walk into the party and check in. The
Landon & Castell party is nothing if not exclusive.
    We’re immediately blown away by the
ballroom. It’s decorated in blues and silvers, with sparkly crystal
chandeliers over each table and overflowing vases of lilies and
irises in the center. Ice sculptures surround the room, the
lighting is dim, and there are several small circular candle
holders on each table, adding to the ambience. Soft jazz plays in
the background; it’s actually quite romantic and makes me feel a
bit melancholy.
    Fran grabs us champagne and hors
d'oeuvres and I introduce her to several of my