Amelia's POV
"Zip me up?"
Brian smiled and walked up to me, eyes locked on mine in the mirror. His fingers trailed up my exposed back slowly.
A shiver ran through me. He wrapped his hands around me, his breath warm against my neck.
"This dress was made for you. You look stunning," he said.
I smiled, tilting my head. "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Cordy."
He kissed my neck. "I can't wait to show you off—let everyone see just how beautiful you are."
"Is that why you bought me this expensive dress?"
The crimson-red dress wrapped around me, like it was made for every curve. The neckline was deliberate, slowly dipping, showing off my collarbones.
I pulled on the dress, feeling slightly exposed. His hand closed over mine, hovering over the scar on my shoulder.
"It's fine. No one will see it," he said.
I sighed. "Sorry. I just—"
He nodded. "I know."
He kissed my shoulder, his gaze on my reflection.
"You're beautiful, Amelia."
He placed another soft kiss in my hair. "Every part of you is. Never forget that."
I leaned into his hug, a wave of calm washing over me.
I glanced at him. "You're perfect, you know that?"
He chuckled. "I've been told."
We stayed like that for a minute, silently swaying while looking out our reflections.
"Remind me again why this mixer is so important?" I asked.
His eyes lit up. "That's because the big boss invited me himself."
I frowned. "Big boss?"
His phone pinged. "Shit. We're going to be late."
The dinner was more extravagant than Brian had let on. Glittering chandeliers, crystal glasses, the hum of power.
I recognized some of the people that attended.
They were amongst the top 1% of the company. The closest I'd seen them was through the news.
"That's William Grayson, Vice President of Cane Foods," Brian gushed.
I pulled on his suit. "Are you sure we should be here?"
"What do you mean?"
"We're too low on the corporate ladder to attend such a fancy event, Brian," I said.
His eyes met mine. "I told you I was invited and asked to bring a date."
"Who could have possibly—"
That's when I felt it, the subtle awareness of being watched.
I turned. There he was, across the room, eyes locked on me. His gaze didn't move. Mine did.
"That's him," Brian said.
"What?"
I traced his gaze back to the man across the room, holding a glass of champagne as his companions talked his ears off.
He raised a brow when his eyes met mine. My stomach tightened.
I turned away quickly. "Shit."
How on earth did their paths cross?
"Brian. Glad to see you could make it," a voice called behind me.
I straightened, chills running down my spine.
'Brian?' They were on first name basis?
"Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Cane," Brian said.
He sounded excited, like a high school girl in front of her crush.
"I see you brought a date?" Mr. Cane said.
"Babe?" Brian called.
My stomach lurched, wishing the floor would open.
"Babe, w-what are you doing?" Brian asked, tugging on my hand.
I inhaled deeply. There was no way out. I might as well face it.
I turned. "Mr. Cane."
"Ms. White."
Brian paused, staring at me. "Do you two know each other?"
"Mr. Cane was kind enough to invest in the company I work for," I said through gritted teeth.
His lips twitched. "Simply put, I'm her boss."
"That's a bit of a stretch," I said.
I held his gaze. His eyes slowly moved over mine, taking in my dress.
Brian cleared his throat. "I see."
I wrapped my arm around Brian's. "Thank you for inviting us."
He stared at our entwined arms, his gaze hardening. "I was curious."
I paused. "About what?"
Something flickered in his eyes—a spark of something I couldn't place. It was gone before I could make sense of it.
"About the girlfriend Brian couldn't stop talking about," he said.
He stared at our arms again. "I just had to see for myself."
There was something in the way he talked that made me hesitate. Every word had a double entendre.
A couple of guests walked over to us. I recognized a few executives from Brian's company.
"Brian, let me introduce you to a couple of guests," Mr. Cane said.
I glanced at Brian. "I'll just grab a glass of champagne."
I excused myself and walked away. I signaled a waitress and grabbed a glass.
"I take it your relative's funeral is somewhere in this establishment then?"
Shit.
"Mr. Cane," I called.
His grey eyes met mine, a smile playing on his lips. "I'd so love to pay my respects."
I shut my eyes. Why did I have to use that as an excuse?
"Fine. I lied," I admitted.
"You don't say."
"Need I remind you, Miss White, that I am your boss and I don't take kindly to people lying to me?"
I downed my drink. "Yeah, well, you're only my boss till 6pm, Mr. Cane."
I stared at him, my brows furrowing. "Texting and calling me by midnight for work is highly inappropriate."
He inched closer, eyes fixed on me. "I don't need to remind you what it says in the contract, do I, Amelia?"
I blinked. "What?"
It was the first time he called me by my name.
"When I call you, I expect you to answer, no matter what time it is."
I stood my ground, unflinching.
I'd never met a more insufferable man in all my life.
People were beginning to stare. Out the corner of my eyes, I noticed Brian's lingering glance in our direction.
The last thing I needed was to embarrass him, especially in front of his bosses. That would ruin his career.
"Is that clear, Ms. White?"
Just once. For Brian's sake.
I stepped back. "Yes, sir."
Brian walked over. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. "Is everything okay?"
I nodded. "Yes. I was just telling Mr. Cane the importance of a work-life balance."
His gaze dropped for half a second, his eyes trained in on Brian's arm around my waist before they returned to my face.
Then I saw it. This time, it lasted longer.
It was pure, undiluted rage that burned in his eyes.
For a second, I forgot about Brian. I was completely captured by the rage in Mr. Cane's eyes.
I wondered what I'd done for him to look at me that way. Was it because I'd made up an excuse to get out of working?
No, that seemed too extreme for the look in his eyes.
There was something familiar in those grey orbs, like a thrum of the past. The more I tried to recognize it, the more it slipped from my hands.
What was it? Where had I seen that expression before?
"Mr. Cane," Brian called.
Just like that, our connection broke. I blinked.
"I was wondering if we could—"
"Have a nice night, Mr. Cordy," he cut Brian off.
Whatever this was, it wasn't over.
He turned to me with a smile. "Ms. Wells."
And the way he smiled told me he knew that too.