There was an innate confidence about him, something that could’ve easily tipped into arrogance had he not been so damn nice to everyone. Where she fretted and worried over saying or doing the wrong thing, he seemed to breeze through the day without a care in the world. Which was why no matter how hard she worked, he would beat her in the final selection, and break her heart in the process.
Shifting position so that he was beside her, Tristan raised a finger to tug gently at one of the tumbling curls she’d left trailing from the complicated up-do it’d taken three hours in front of a YouTube tutorial to arrange earlier. ‘I like this,’ he said. Lowering his hand, he brushed the shoulder strap of her velvet dress. ‘And this.’ The deep timbre of his voice sent another shiver down her spine. ‘You look fabulous, Jess; like a gorgeous Christmas present just begging to be unwrapped.’
Warmth spread through her. Not because she thought for a moment that Tristan was being serious in his flirting, but because he’d obviously sensed her nervousness and was going out of his way to make her feel good about herself. It was the kind of thing he’d done since that first day they’d met – like the time he’d given her a little pep talk before her first big solo presentation, or the silly congratulations GIF he’d sent via their internal messaging service when she’d been part of the team that had managed to win back a big client who’d briefly left Beaman and Tanner for a rival company.
Feeling brave, she fluttered her lashes at him. ‘You’ll have to be a good boy and see what Santa leaves you under the tree.’ Oh God. Had she really just said that to him? She hadn’t even had a drink yet, and she was already making a fool of herself.
Mouth kicking up in one corner, Tristan offered her his elbow, covering the hand she rested upon it with his free one. ‘I promise to be a very good boy, although this gorgeous dress of yours is going to make that very difficult. Come on, Cinderella, let me be your Prince Charming and escort you into the ball.’
The next couple of hours passed in a whirlwind of laughter, free cocktails and not quite enough of the delicious nibbles on offer to counteract the alcohol. She and Tristan had ended up at a table with a group of co-workers all in their early-to-mid-twenties. So many people had complimented her on her dress, she quite forgot her inhibitions and let the evening carry her away on a wave of fun and frivolity. She barely had time to sit and ease her sore toes before one or other person in their group declared whatever song was blasting across the dance floor as their absolute favourite and away they all went to dance.
As the current song wound up to its climax, Tristan grabbed her hand and spun her out and back in a twirl. Unsteady from too many cocktails and the unfamiliar heels, Jess placed a hand on his chest to steady herself and let out a breathless laugh. Raising his hand to cover hers, Tristan squeezed her fingers lightly. ‘Having a good time?’
Jess nodded, regretting the action as it made the spinning in her head worse. ‘A bit too much of a good time, I might have to slow down if I want to make it to midnight.’
Whether through fate or serendipity, the music switched from fast-paced to a soft ballad. Around them, people left the floor in laughing groups, though a fair number shifted into pairs and began to sway to the music. Jess made to follow their friends but was stopped short when Tristan refused to release her hand. When she cast him an enquiring glance he tugged gently, drawing her back into him.
‘I thought you wanted to slow things down?’ he said, with that mischievous smile that did all kinds of stupid things to her insides.
‘This isn’t what I had in mind.’ Her voice came out breathless.
Circling his arm around her shoulders, Tristan held her close, the sway of his body a temptation she was powerless to resist. ‘No? It’s been all I’ve thought about since I first saw you in this beautiful dress.’
Not sure how to take his comment, Jess laughed. ‘You shouldn’t say things like that, or you’ll give a girl ideas.’
Expecting him to laugh along with her, she was shocked when the hand resting on her hip tightened. ‘Good. I want you to have ideas about us, Jess. In fact, I want you to spend the next couple of hours thinking about the fact that before this evening ends, I’m going to kiss you.’ With one last squeeze of her hip, he backed away from her, a knowing grin plastered across his face.
Heart racing, she turned in the opposite direction and fled for the safety of the ladies’. Locking herself in the far end cubicle, Jess pushed the seat lid down and sank onto it, knees wobbling. Though he’d been smiling, there’d been no mistaking the promise in Tristan’s eyes as they’d parted on the dance floor. He wanted to kiss her! A little giggle escaped her mouth and she clamped her hand over it. What if someone walked in and caught her laughing to herself?
What if they saw Tristan kissing her? This was her first proper job. Getting mixed up in an office romance might ruin her chances of being taken seriously. But, it was Tristan – the man who made her stomach do somersaults, and her heart race a mile a minute. The man who went out of his way to do nice things for her, for reasons other than his general decency perhaps? The man who would be certain to beat her to the permanent position if she did anything to diminish her reputation in the eyes of their superiors.
She might have sat there for another hour mooning over what could never be, had her bladder not decided to remind her quite forcefully just how much she had drunk in the past couple of hours. With a sigh, Jess stood and began the inelegant task of wriggling down her tights and underwear, almost groaning with relief as her stomach was released from the tight confines of her elasticated pants. She was in the process of struggling back into them when the external bathroom door banged open and she caught the tail end of a conversation.
‘… even more gorgeous than usual in a tux.’ Jess recognised the speaker as Michelle, one of the two company receptionists. She froze, not wanting the woman to know she was there. Though she’d never been overtly rude to Jess, there was an undercurrent to the way she treated her, as though she resented being asked to do things by the new girl – even when they were part of her job description and she never seemed to have a problem when anyone else asked her to make a drink for a visitor or to book a courier.
‘I know, right? Tristan’s so hot, he puts James Bond to shame.’ The second voice belonged to Nicola, the other half of the formidable duo who handled everything from dealing with visitors, to answering the phones and sorting the post without so much as a chipped nail or a single hair out of place. Jess had never seen either of them ever looking anything other than perfectly made-up and turned out. ‘I’m going to ask him to dance when we go back in,’ Nicola continued, her voice distorted in a way that told Jess she was applying lipstick as she talked.
‘Good luck with that,’ snorted Michelle. ‘You’ll have a fight on your hands the way Shrek has been hogging his attention all night. God, did you see the way she was hanging off his neck on the dance floor just now? I felt embarrassed for him.’
Jess found herself frozen in place, hunched over, her tights still halfway up her thighs. The bitchy edge to Michelle’s voice was harder and meaner than anything she’d heard from her before. And – God – had she really just likened Jess to the ugly ogre cartoon character? She clutched at the wall for support as she listened, the pair of them oblivious to her presence.
‘Everyone knows Jess has had a crush on him forever.’ Nicola said. ‘But tonight it’s downright embarrassing the way she’s traipsing after him like a dog with its tongue hanging out. As if he’d look twice at a fat lump like her.’
‘More like a bitch in heat.’ Michelle cackled. ‘And you’re right. How can she possibly think a man like
