In order to be taken seriously, Lexi has had to become something she hates; emotionless, ruthless and a little bit brutal. But despite the tough exterior, she has one weakness, a green-eyed man with a smile that makes her stomach flip and ego so bi...
I can hear the hum of hundreds of people gathering in the grand ballroom as I take my time climbing the ugly green and gold carpeted stairs of the Fuller Hotel.
The Gala tonight is one of the biggest of the year and teamed with a charitable partner; the perfect chance to make the rich, middle aged men attending feel guilty about driving in in their chauffeur driven cars or Rolls Royces and raise a substantial amount of money from some of London's wealthiest individuals.
Although I'm nervous about being here alone, the anticipation is mostly from the thought of seeing Harry, our usual Friday night looking a little different tonight, yet I pathetically revel in spending any time with him I can get.
I wonder if he will treat me like he usually does, playful and friendly, or if he will wave to me from across the room, too busy talking to those more important than me to pay me much notice.
Will I cramp his style as he networks around, introducing himself to potential clients, Patterson's daughter not really sounding as impressive as he would have liked? Will he drop my father's name? Taking what he can out of the opportunity of their mentoring sessions, my mind still sceptical that this is the reason he is hanging out with me in the first place.
My fingers hold on to the silk material of my floor length dress, lifting it slightly as I walk up the staircase, conscious that tripping in front of colleagues and peers would be close to my worst nightmare.
This time, I didn't take Katie's fashion advice. This was about work, not my personal life and I didn't want to look out of place or inappropriate.
I bought a simple strapless gown, black and elegant, the fluid fabric luxurious and expensive. I may not be confident going to high society house parties but discussing work with other professionals is where my strengths lie.
My fingers wrap around the stem of a champagne flute that passes on a waiters tray as I reach the top of the stairs.
My eyes immediately scan the crowd for the familiar face I seem to mistakenly think I see on every stranger on the street, convincing myself I recognise him on every corner, in every cafe and in every car that zooms past.
It doesn't take me long to spot him, his green eyes finding mine almost as quickly and my heart leaps as his lips stop mid conversation as if he could sense my presence as I walked in.
Harry's hand slides up to press into his chest and I wonder briefly if he gets the same chest pains I do.
My head tilts to the side as I make a mental note to ask him at a more appropriate time but my thoughts dissolve like sugar on the tongue when a smile slowly creeps up his cheeks.
His eyes crease at the edges as his grin spreads, his dimple popping and the room suddenly seeming a little lighter than it was a minute ago.
In true form, while every other male at the event wears a classic black tuxedo with a white button-down shirt and sharp bow tie, Harry's messy long curls look perfect with his ruffled shirt, sans tie. On anyone else, this shirt would look ridiculous, comical even, but on him, with his absurd amount of confidence, it seems as normal as a t-shirt and jeans.
I'm too busy internalising how I could never be so self-assured to notice him politely excusing himself and walk in my direction, his signature smirk firmly in place.
His hand is on my hip before I can focus on his cherry lips inching towards me, lingering in a kiss on my cheek before he whispers, "You look sensational."
With my free hand in his, exaggerating the movements, he pulls back to look me up and down, his bottom lip hooked under his square set teeth.
Embarrassed, I tear away my hand and swat his shoulder, taking a long drink from my glass as he adds an, "I'm serious," with a slight chuckle.
"You look pretty good yourself," I return, our eyes searching each others for a moment before he gives me a smug look that tells me he knows exactly how incredible he looks.
My eyes roll back into my head and I try and repress a smile when I hear his cheeky, boyish cackle, too loud for the environment we are in but he doesn't seem to give a fuck who turns to look at him.
I divert my gaze away from him with blazing cheeks and to stop myself from jumping on top of him, my eyes darting across the room and spotting the last person on earth I ever want to run into.
A gasp rips through my lungs and up my throat, my eyes widening as I spin back to Harry, hunching as far over as I can without drawing more attention and shielding my face behind my champagne glass.
"Oh my god," I exhale a panicked breath to myself, wondering how the hell I can get out of this room without being caught.
Harry's head is looking around the room, trying to find the cause of my sudden distress, his brow furrowed as his hands rest on my bare shoulders to ask a concerned, "Lex, are you okay? What just happened?"
"Yep, fine... it's just... I'm gonna go," I mumble, putting my glass down on a table next to us and duck to try and slip out of Harry's grip but he is quicker, stopping me in my tracks.
"Go? What are you talking about? Lexi, what's going on? Look... I shouldn't say this, but if it's something... serious... you can trust me, maybe I can even help?" he says cryptically and takes me by surprise but the bizarre statement goes unquestioned as I hear the voice I dread, call my name.
"Alexa?"
I close my eyes for a second and wish teleportation existed before I hear him call again, Harry's hands slipping off my shoulders as he makes room for our intruder.
"Hi Adam."
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A/N:
uh.oh.
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