The ballroom exuded opulence and refinement, as did the people that filled it. Men were dressed in sharply tailored tuxedoes, while the women were clad in gorgeous gowns, many of them slinky and jewel-toned, creating a riot of color that contrasted with the men’s black-and-white garb.
Forcing her parted lips to close, Mallory approached the couple closest to her, discretely murmuring “Champagne?” as she neared them. They each took a glass without so much as a “thank-you” or even a glance in her direction. But Mallory was used to being an invisible, inconsequential cog in the service industry machine, so the behavior didn’t bother her. Much.
She continued to make her way through the crowd, her tray rapidly emptying as she wound her way around the edges of the dance floor. Having made it halfway around the circuit, she was down to two glasses of champagne. She turned, deciding to head back to the kitchen for more. Only as she swung around, her tray came into contact with a very hard something. She watched in horror as it tilted, champagne flying out of the glasses before they tumbled to the floor, shattering on impact.
The tinkling sound seemed to echo throughout the room, drowning out the music. She could feel dozens of reproving gazes on her, making her cheeks flame red. Unable to look at anything but the floor in embarrassment, she dropped to her knees to gather up the shards of glass, reaching out with a thick cloth napkin to sweep it into a small, manageable pile.
But before her fingers brushed the floor, a strong, warm hand encircled her wrist, stopping her short. She looked up to find the last person in the world that she wanted to see crouching over her: Jake Cleary. The wind was knocked right out of her. He really was as handsome as his portrait made him out to be. Perhaps even more so. He had the same stunningly masculine features, but there was something about the energy around him that made him even more impressive. He seemed to radiate power, and Mallory found herself overwhelmed by it, caught in the intensity of his blue eyes. They were twinkling slyly, and his full lips were quirked up at the corners as though in amusement. Mallory would have been angered by his mocking expression, but she was too mortified to be affected by it.
“We don’t want you cutting yourself, now do we?” He asked, a hint of a chuckle in his deep, rumbling voice. He straightened, standing, and his grip on her wrist pulled her up as well. Then she took in the full height of him; he must have been over six feet tall, dwarfing Mallory’s five-foot-five-inch frame. As her eyes roved down his body, she saw that the front of his crisp white shirt was sopping wet.
The champagne! She had bumped into one of the richest men in the world and spilled his own champagne all over his fancy tux.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She squeaked, hastily pressing the linen napkin against his chest, trying vainly to absorb the liquid. As she did so, she couldn’t help admiring the harness of his muscles, her touch inexorably lingering around the curves of his defined abs. Despite her situation, she licked her lips unconsciously as heat shot to her sex. She imagined what he looked like out of that tux...
His grip on her free hand brought her back to reality, and she blinked up at him in surprise. Her gaze locking with his, he stilled her efforts to dry his shirt. He was looking down at her, still smiling. But now there was something hard about his expression, a merciless glint in his eye. Mallory suppressed a shiver at the intensity of his demeanor, completely overwhelmed by him.
“That’s quite enough of that,” he said softly. Mallory’s cheeks heated impossibly more, and she wrenched her hands free of his grip. He raised a long-fingered hand and snapped twice. A waiter appeared out of nowhere and immediately knelt to sweep up the shattered glass. Jake never even looked at him, instead keeping his eyes on Mallory. She had to stop herself from physically squirming under his scrutiny.
Imperious ass**le, she thought in some indignant corner of her mind. But mostly she was embarrassed, and undeniably turned on by her proximity to the sexy billionaire.
“Jake, what happened?” Came an angry female voice, jerking Mallory’s attention back to the world around her. People were staring, many of them disapprovingly. But none so reproachfully as the woman who had wound her arm through Jake’s. She was blond and pale-skinned, with striking green eyes and a statuesque figure. And she was glaring at Mallory as though she had intentionally thrown the champagne in her host’s face.
Despite her predicament, Mallory couldn’t help returning the snooty woman’s glare. She might have just f**ked up big time, but she wasn’t some sort of servant to be admonished by the high and mighty; this was the twenty-first century.
“It’s fine, Celeste,” Jake answered the blond coolly, never taking his eyes off Mallory. But the woman’s arrival had broken whatever spell he had worked over Mallory, and she no longer felt trapped by his power. She just wanted to get out of there. Now.
Seizing the opportunity to flee, she mumbled a quick “sorry,” in Jake’s general direction and darted for the door.
Chapter 2
Tears were pricking at the corners of Mallory’s eyes. I will not cry, I will not cry, she repeated the mantra in her head over and over again as her new boss- soon to be her old boss- yelled at her. She was being fired for the first time in her life, and it sucked. Mallory was not a confrontational person, and she had no tolerance for shouting. She would stand up for herself if someone was picking on her, but in this case she knew that she deserved the dressing-down she was getting. What kind of inexperienced idiot spilled drinks all over the host of the party that they were catering? Now the Clearys would probably never hire Carly’s Catering again, and landing this job had been the best thing that had ever happened to the company.
Mallory felt like shit. Mumbling her earnest apologies, she agreed to help in the kitchen for free for the rest of the night and then return her uniform in the morning. She went about her tasks mechanically, putting herself on dish-washing duty as extra penance for her blundering. After several grueling hours of avoiding the staff’s glares, the party was finally wrapping up, and Mallory prepared to leave.
She untied her apron, heading for the door, but she was stopped short by a tapping on her shoulder. Turning, she saw a man in butler’s livery trying to catch her attention.