A Cosmic Kind of Love(33)
“Well, perhaps things would be different if he were the groom-to-be at this engagement party.” She patted his hand again, oblivious or indifferent to the tension she created. “It is wonderful to see you. Charles and I must have you over for dinner so we can catch up. Charles is full of questions about your time on the station.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay, I’ll have Rosanna call you to arrange it.” The affection in her expression disappeared in an instant as she turned to her daughter. “Where are your fiancé and his parents? It is rude to keep your guests waiting.”
Suddenly desperate to be away from this cozy reunion and the reminder that Christopher Ortiz was way out of my league, I offered, “I’ll go check on them. I’ll also speak to the servers, Darcy.”
My client threw me a sweet, grateful smile. “Thank you. You’re a godsend, Hallie.”
As I walked away without looking at Christopher, I heard Violet Hawthorne say, “Excellent planner, terrible hair.”
I tried not to let her words affect me as I let the servers know they could serve any drinks that were requested and hurried into the hotel to find Matthias and his parents.
* * *
The rest of the evening I worked harder than ever to focus on the job at hand and did my very best not to search out Christopher. Yet, when the guests were all seated for dinner, and I’d faded into the background, I couldn’t help but look for him.
When it was time for the engagement toasts, my gaze found Christopher, and I watched his expression as the bride and groom took turns thanking their guests and speaking of their love for each other.
Either Christopher was an excellent actor, or he was genuinely happy for Darcy.
The job of clearing up after dinner soon held my attention. The guests were out on the rooftop, which sparkled with the fairy lights wrapped around artificial topiary. Efficiently and quietly, we cleared away the tables as my servers walked among the guests with trays of petit fours and more champagne.
Within half an hour, we’d transformed the tent into a bar and dance floor. The musicians relocated inside, and the guests followed. I sent my assistant planner, Bree, home for the night, since the biggest part of the event had passed.
“You should have everything you require,” I told the hired bartenders as the guests immediately zeroed in on them. “But if you run out of anything, let me know. There are more supplies inside.”
The bartenders nodded, and I got out of the way. I was at the back of the rooftop, making sure the dirty champagne flutes were returned inside carefully when I felt a shiver skate down my neck.
I turned, and another stupid flutter made itself known in my stomach. Christopher.
It was still so surreal to see him standing in front of me. “Hi.”
He smiled like I amused him. “Hi.”
“Do you . . . do you need anything?”
“Well”—he stepped toward me, looking far too delicious in his three-piece suit—“your number might be helpful.”
My . . . what? Holy . . . really? I mean . . . what?
“To arrange a lunch to discuss my retirement party.”
Oh.
Right.
Could everyone hear the air hissing out of my hope-filled balloon?
I didn’t keep cards on my person because Lia thought it was tacky to hand out cards at clients’ events. “I don’t have a card with me, but if you ask Darcy for my information, I’m sure she’ll provide it, and we can arrange a meeting.”
Christopher shook his head. “I don’t want Darcy knowing about this just yet. She’ll try to hijack the planning.”
I gave a huff of laughter because she seemed like a person who would do that. “Okay. Do you have your cell with you?”
He pulled it out of his inside jacket pocket and said, “If it’s not too much hassle, I’d prefer your direct line. I don’t want to have to jump through hoops at your office to get to you.”
I was planning on giving him my number anyway. Opportunist that I was. I rattled it off, and he saved it on his phone. “It’s Hallie with an ie at the end.”
“I know.” He flashed me a quick, boyish grin. “I’m done here tonight, so I’ll call, and hopefully we can arrange something for Monday.”
My day was completely jam-packed on Monday. “Absolutely.”
“It was nice meeting you, Hallie.” His voice was all deep and rumbly.
Way too sexy for a client. Way too sexy. Bad idea! “You too. We’ll talk soon.”
And then he was walking away, and I most definitely ogled his ass.
Great ass.
“Bad idea, Goodman,” I whispered. “This will not end well for you.”
FOURTEEN
Hallie
I was sweating.
I hadn’t even left the office yet, and there was perspiration under my arms, between my boobs, and across my upper lip. Glowering at myself in the mirror above the sink in the ladies’ room, I patted my face with a powder puff to eliminate shine.
“This is just a lunch,” I reminded myself. “A simple work lunch.”
This morning had been a flurry of activity as I sped through tasks and rearranged a lunch I had scheduled with another prospective client. They hadn’t been happy about it, which made me feel so guilty, but I was a little too overwhelmed with excited nervousness to give in to the people-pleasing spiral of agony such a situation would normally send me into.