Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 12

  Okay, she admitted as she returned to move through the crowd with her tray, she also missed Tiffany’s when she remembered the steady paycheck.

  She missed Mr. Weinstein then too. Her stomach growled, and she realized this would be the first real food she would eat this week. Besides earning some extra cash, the catering food sure beat ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches. Theo always did a fantastic job and tonight looked to be the height of luxury.

  The alcohol was flowing; the passed trays were filled with wonderful bites of panko-crusted shrimp and little baby back ribs all sourced from local farmers and merchants. She really admired Theo’s sustainability policy, but it helped more that he was great to work for, was a good friend and paid pretty well. In addition, he always made sure there was food enough for the worker-bees.

  So, the uniform was a bit snug, and shoes hurt on these concrete floors. As long as she avoided Wyatt, the payoff was worth it.

  Keeli moved out of the way, as everyone was ushered to his or her tables, moving back to work her station. Keeli was laying out the schedule in her mind. Dinner, then the speechmakers would drone on for a while, the guests would write their big checks, the dancing would start, and the caterers would finally set up the dessert buffet.

  Damn, at least three hours before I can get out of these shoes.

  Keeli watched as Chicago’s one-percent took their seats, 500 people moving smoothly through the room without missing a beat in their conversations. A few women lifted their dresses daintily, displaying the red soles of their Christian Louboutins as they avoided tripping over hems.

  I wonder if their feet hurt too. If they do, at least they hurt in fab shoes.

  Keeli had been assigned tables 1 and 2. Usually these would be the big shots, the biggest donors, the speakers, and the hosts. She figured she might even be serving Wyatt’s father and mother. While normally she might be curious about them, tonight she just wanted the longest distance possible between her and any Howe.

  These people would know just what tonight was costing them and tallying profits in their heads. This needed to be a big moneymaker to be a success because last year was a record breaker and expectations were high. Keeli was relieved she was not in charge. She certainly didn’t envy the guys running this show. Their names and their results would be plastered all over tomorrow’s Trib, side by side with pictures of the beautiful people.

  Keeli knew that Theo demonstrated a lot of confidence in her by asking her to handle these tables. He employed her for enough weddings and parties to know that he could count on her to keep the patrons happy, the service impeccable and the all-important wine flowing. More wine, more dollars. Never failed.

  Tonight she did not want the bigwigs tables. She wanted the back of the room, the nobodies, anyone but Wyatt. After losing the battle with Theo about changing tables, Keeli realized that she would have a hard time avoiding Wyatt. The least she could do was give him a heads up, so she bit the bullet and sent him a warning text. She kept it short and sweet. “Wkg museum. Will try to avoid u. Pretend we r strangers if paths cross.”

  Now that dinner was about to be served, she pushed Wyatt out of her head and focused on doing her job beautifully. She wanted the guests to have a wonderful time, Theo to get kudos and the event to be successful. She was professional about serving, through and through.

  The conversations swelled across the formally set tables as the final guests took their seats. Keeli moved toward Table 1, juggling a huge serving tray laden with a tantalizing appetizer of roasted pepper ravioli. Her mouth was watering from the aroma as she weaved between Tables 3 and 4 to get to her diners.

  And that is when she saw him. There stood Wyatt Lyons Howe IV in all his tuxedoed glory. He could be the next James Bond. He had the looks, clean-shaven, icy blue eyes, hair tamed with only the slightest curl at his neck, megawatt smile. He had the body too with his height, wide shoulders and trim hips shown to advantage in what had to be a custom made tuxedo.

  He has the ego of course. Maybe he has the killer instinct too. After all, he is killing me. I wonder what he would make of me dying a slow death checking my phone constantly, wishing for something I can never have.

  Clearly, he was seated at Table 1. How could Theo have let this happen? Wyatt was helping a gorgeous brunette into her seat. She was obviously his date. Keeli felt her jealousy like a live snake, coiling around her mind.

  Reminding herself she was a professional, Keeli considered anyone at her table as her boss for tonight. It was her job to serve them impeccably. Her heart plummeted with the realization that she could not do that and still avoid Wyatt. There was no way to avoid him.

  At least she had spotted him first, so she had the advantage, an extra moment to steel herself and control her shock. Starting as far out of his vision as possible, Keeli worked her way around the table until she was serving his date, standing almost directly behind him where he could not see her. She was saving him for last, buying herself as much time as possible. Once he saw her, she knew all her dreams would be dashed, so she was stalling as long as possible.

  Wyatt was speaking animatedly about the museum funding to the couple beside him. He was clearly knowledgeable about the museum and its collections. He was definitely one of the hosts, and Keeli wondered how she did not know this before tonight, wondering if he was on the Board of Trustees. Perhaps his date was a board member, because she was almost finishing his sentences, supplying facts and figures as if she had penned them on her palm in preparation for a final exam.

  They made a great couple, undeniably. He rested his arm along the back of her chair, and she leaned into him frequently, resting her hand on his muscular thigh. The green monster of envy rose up in Keeli. They laughed together and the brunette leaned close to give Wyatt a soft butterfly of a kiss.

  I will remember this as the exact moment my bubble burst. He was a fantasy. I just needed to really see it this clearly. She is perfect for him. She belongs. I am the interloper.

  Then he was looking at her as if she was the serpent in the Garden of Eden. The shock was evident as a faint flush colored his cheeks. Their eyes locked for a moment but he broke his stare quickly. That she outstared him pleased Keeli, for some immature reason. And then it was over as if it never happened, he was continuing his conversations while Keeli moved away to her serving station, ever efficient and reliable, getting the remaining appetizers to Table 2.

  They both got a short reprieve. Keeli used the time to calm her drumming heart and do her job, praying the worst was behind her. She knew now that he would pretend not to know her, or her him. It was a good plan. Like last week never happened. In her distraught state, she wondered briefly if she had dreamed their whole date. She shook her head to get it together and moved back toward the kitchen.

  Keeli leaned against the kitchen wall, bent over trying to catch her breath and resisting the urge to throw up. She eyed a nearby glass of wine with longing. She sounded as if she had just finished a sprint. She resisted the wine and the urge to burst into tears.

  “You ok, Keeli?” Dylan’s concerned voice came from her friend kneeling in front of her, trying to see her face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sug.” Even at this moment, Keeli couldn’t help but smile. When Dylan called her ‘Sug’ with that southern drawl of his, it was so sweet. If he called her Sugar, Keeli knew she would lose it, but somehow the shortened version worked for them.

  “Wyatt, Wyatt is at Table 1,” she stuttered between breaths. “He’s at my table with a stunning brunette. Oh, I wish I was dead.”

  “Miss Melodrama, cool your jets. You barely know the guy; he is certainly not worth dying over. He is Wyatt Howe, for pity sake. You knew he had a stable of women.”

  Dylan was not being harsh, just realistic, trying to remind her that they both knew Wyatt was a player when he asked her for drinks.

  “It’s not like you let him get close or anything, Sug. It was just drinks.“

  OK, so I might not have mentioned the
major face sucking that Wyatt and I did last weekend.

  “Show me the brunette,” he demanded so she walked over to the kitchen entrance with Dylan and pointed across the room toward Wyatt and his gorgeous date.

  “Over there.”

  “Holy shit, Girl, that is Sloane Huyler. They are a serious couple, I think. He brings her to all of these things. I’ve seen them on the society pages. I did warn you that Howe was way out of your league. I warned you not to go there, Keeli. He will break your little small-town, no-money, innocent heart. Those folks stick with their own and you know it.”

  He’s right, he’s right, he’s right. Keeli steeled herself to the tough words. Dylan was not telling her anything she did not know logically, but emotionally those kisses were still wreaking havoc.

  She had told herself she was ready but she had not been prepared to let go. Keeli had convinced herself that they were starting something so special that he would overlook her background. She had believed that they both felt something special, that she mattered to him.

  Then…. he just dismissed me. No phone, no email, no texts. Maybe I meant nothing to him. I probably meant nothing to him. It was one night for him, one drink. I was the one who thought about him for two years.

  “OK, Keeli, go be professional. Back to work.”

  “You are right Dylan, I am just overreacting.”

  Giving herself one last stern lecture, Keeli pulled it together reminding herself she was at work, and she needed the job. “Stop thinking, stop feeling and just work,” she muttered to herself. She grabbed another loaded tray and headed back out to deliver salads to her tables.

  Do not look at him. Just don’t look at him and you can get through this.

  Keeli started with Table 2 this time working up the courage to go back to Wyatt’s table. She was back in her waitressing groove when she returned to Table 1. She felt totally ready now, pretending they were strangers. She just wanted to get through this horrible night.

  “So,” the white haired gentleman across from Wyatt was addressing Wyatt and his perfect date as she approached the table. “When are you two going to make your parents proud and announce a damn wedding date?”

  I swear, the plate just slipped.

  Keeli would repeat all night and well into the next day that what happened had not been intentional. She insisted she was too professional to spill a salad right down the back of the brunette’s chair and onto her pale pink dress.

  “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.”

  If there was a God, he was not helping tonight. Say something coherent you idiot.

  “Good thing there is no salad dressing on that,” Sloane said without missing a beat, smiling up at Keeli, all kindness and patience. As if she wasn’t perfect enough already, she was busy saving Keeli’s ass by laughing it off. Keeli blushed beet red, stammered several incoherent apologies while her co-server ran to clean up the mess.

  Keeli made a beeline to the kitchen fighting back tears. She had never screwed up like this at an elite event, and to do it in front of Wyatt was even more humiliating, beyond bearing.

  The bastard is engaged!! What the hell was he doing kissing me like that if he is marrying her?

  Keeli was beyond pissed, hands clenching and unclenching along with her jaw. She would obviously have to change tables for the rest of the night. She was done here. What about Wyatt? He just sat there, helping Sloane clean up, fussing over her. He was treating Keeli as the insignificant paid help that she was.

  Engaged! I swear, when I see him again… next art show I will give him a piece of my mind and a swift kick in the balls. I swear I will.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Wyatt had been accepting congratulations for well over an hour. The gala exceeded all expectations, breaking the previous year’s fundraising records by an unprecedented 24%. It was a major feat in these economic times or so everyone was saying. No doubt the papers would call it a great success all around – the fundraising, the glitterati, even the speeches were a hit.

  Wyatt’s speech received the laughs he hoped for as well as rapt attention and a standing ovation. His parents’ pride had been particularly gratifying. They would never guess the strain he had been under to pull this off; only Tyler was completely aware of the nerves that had consumed Wyatt all week. Wyatt presented the cool façade of an experienced host to everyone else.

  Now he accepted his kudos in stride; he was a natural at this, a chip off the old block. He heard the murmurs through the crowds milling around the museum, reluctant to return to their lives and leave the elegant fantasy created for the gala. They said he would outshine his father as a philanthropist and as a fundraiser. They praised both him and the lovely Sloane ever present by his side, repeatedly calling them a ‘power couple.’

  Sloane had noticed his distraction all evening, but she gently brought him back each time to focus on the moment at hand. Now she was taking credit as the evening’s hostess, saying good night and thank you as people straggled out of the museum to the waiting taxis, cars and limousines snaking their way to the entrance. She regularly drew Wyatt’s attention back to the diminishing crowd to assure he said the appropriate farewells.

  Sloane peeled herself away from him long enough to join Wyatt’s sisters Regan and Missy and Missy’s husband, Stephen. Stephen had loosened his tie slightly, but the women were still unwrinkled in their pastels and jewel tone designer gowns, gems glittering against the elegant backdrops. If their feet hurt, they were not showing it.

  “What a success tonight turned out to be,” a leading industrialist said to the small group. “The evening was flawless, and the auction was truly a marvel. The Mayor was telling me he thought it a brilliant idea to focus on local artists.”

  “Yes, my Wyatt is clever that way. He is an avid collector. We focus on local artwork, you know.” Sloane gave Wyatt his much deserved due while somehow managing to take the credit too.

  “Wyatt has developed quite a reputation for the artists he’s discovered haunting art fairs and galleries,” Sloane explained now. “He has a real eye for potential.”

  “Yes,” the industrialist concurred, “I heard he has amassed quite a collection.”

  “Wyatt has been purchasing pieces for the last few years, many of which he donated for tonight’s silent auction.” Sloane could not keep the pride from her voice as she confessed Wyatt’s secret to the small crowd of contributors. “Wyatt, of course, is too modest to take the credit, which is why so many of the auction items were donated anonymously.”

  Missy flashed a scowl in Sloane’s direction, knowing Wyatt would not want his contributions made public. Sloane saw the warning but chose to ignore it. “Oh yes, Wyatt has been very modest, but the hard work he put into tonight definitely paid off.“

  Wyatt joined them at that moment, silencing Sloane with a sharp squeeze to her arm. Ignoring her beyond that, smoothly picking up the thread of the conversation, he told the group that the success was a direct result of a large group effort by dedicated individuals, naming several and pulling a few into the conversation as he extricated himself.

  Sloane, hanging on his arm like a leech, finally stopped him as he tried to move away. “What is wrong with you tonight?” she whispered under her breath with obvious exasperation. “You have not been paying any attention to me all night, except to be annoyed, of course. You have been a million miles away. What the hell is going on?”

  Wyatt, recognizing he would not escape without providing a response whispered back, ”I was just nervous.”

  “Then what is your excuse now?”

  “The adrenaline is still pumping like mad,” he explained. “I really need to wind down.”

  Sloane must have been satisfied with his answer for she released her stranglehold on his arm and flashed him a seductive smile. “I can certainly help you with that,” she purred, stroking his back suggestively.

  “If it is okay with you, I will put you in the town car and stick around a bit to finish things off. I just need to
be alone tonight.”

  “Of course, Ivy,” Sloane agreed despite her obvious disappointment. “If you think you need to do that, I completely understand.”

  She moved through the remaining throng to say her last good nights, circling the remaining guests before turning back to Wyatt in a feigned afterthought.

  “Oh, and do be sure to let management know about that stupid, incompetent waitress. Make sure they fire her.”

  “I thought it surprising that you hardly reacted to having a salad dropped down your back. It is not like you to laugh off a mishap like that.” Wyatt wondered how long she had been biting her tongue, since the demand for Keeli’s firing would be a normal response for Sloane.

  “Darling, I would never disrupt your lovely event like that,” she drawled.

  “You don’t care that she might need this job, to feed her family perhaps?”

  “Oh please, like I care. She may have ruined my dress. It cost much more than she makes in a day. The big loss was mine. She needs to go. Be sure you deal with her now.”

  “I intend to do just that,” Wyatt responded.

  Wyatt helped her into the limousine and gave her a perfunctory goodnight kiss. Tyler saw him sending Sloane home and cornered him on his way back into the building.

  “Flying solo my friend? If so, let’s get out of here and go celebrate properly. You earned it, Ivy. Tonight was an incredibly success. You hit it out of the park, my man.”

  “I have some loose ends to tie up, Ty, so let me text you in a little while.” Wyatt remained non-committal and the two men parted ways.

  Now, time to deal with Keeli. After all, he promised Sloane. Smiling to himself he picked up his pace and headed for the kitchen.