“I thought ya said you was in a hurry,” the cab driver hollered.
Instantly I snap out of it and grab a wad of cash, throwing it at the driver. I grab my high heels from the seat of the taxi and bolt towards the front entrance where a doorman holds it open for me, greeting me as I breeze by.
The inside is just as glamorous as the building on the outside. Its marvel flooring make the lobby sparkle from the bright chandeliers overhead. It’s posh furniture and decore make my apartment alone look cheap.
There is a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair and a headset, muttering something into the microphone as she marches towards me.
“Here she is,” she says irritably, snatching up my clothes (including my shoes)I just changed out of. “Where the hell have you been, everyone is waiting on you?”
“I’m sorry, I got caught up at work,” I say hesitantly, trying to reach for my shoes.
Like a school yard bully she pulls the clothes away from my reach and urges me to get to the ballroom immediately.
“He’s waiting on you.”
“But my shoes…” I say as she literally shoves me through the lobby.
“There’s no time, just go!”
An escort grabs me and with my bare feet he marches me through the lobby, towards a grand, velvet covered staircase. I hardly think my brown dress from Penny’s isn't doing this place any justice what-so-ever. Not to mention my bare feet.
“Right this way,” the man says as he shows me off to a room.
The room is filled with other women who had already arrived long before I did. They’re all sitting at posh dining tables, neatly decorated with grand boquets of flowers and sipping champagne with their fancy champagne glasses.
Front and center is the man himself, Mr. Blake Sheldon standing almost at attention, waiting for me to arrive. He’s handsome alright. Though I would never guess him to be a multi-billionaire. He’s not as clean shaven as you would think a billionaire to be. Sure his sandy blonde hair is combed descently and he is dressed in his Sunday suit, but he doesn’t scream “I’m rich” to me.
“What are you gawking at?” The woman hisses as she shoves my heels into my arms. “Get a move on!”
I rush into the ballroom, slipping a shoe on one foot while hopping on the other and switching. The women sitting by, sipping their champagne, chuckle as they watch me struggle to get my shoes on.
I spot instantly the camera crew parked on the other side of the ballroom, one camera intensely focuses on me as I rush towards Mr. Sheldon. The closer I rush towards him, the more evident his patient smile appears across his face
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I gasp for air. “I had a work emergency.”
That sounds like an excuse, but really it isn’t. The museum has kept me busy non-stop these last three months because of the huge exhibit we are opening for the summer.
“You must be Blake Sheldon.”
“Yes and what’s your name?”
“Joanna. Joanna White, but you can call me Jo.”
“I would be honored, Jo.”
His dimples reach towards his cheeks as his smile creases wide.
“What is it that you do, Jo?”
“I’m a curator at the Art Museum.”
Blake stands there, nodding his head slightly at me.
“Interesting,” he says. “I haven’t been to a museum in years.”
“You’re missing out!” My voice shrills with enthusiasm.
“Well you’re going to have to tell me about everything I’m missing, Jo.”
“I will, I promise.”
“It is nice to meet you, Jo.”
“Thank you Mr. Sheldon.”
I semi-curtsey as if I were bowing before a prince or a king and it was too late to stop myself before I heard giggling and laughter coming from the other women.
My eyes are locked to the floor in that instant and I can feel Blake gently pulling my chin up by his finger tip. My eyes lock immediately to his and I feel a rush of excitement coursing through my veins.
“You don’t have to bow to me,” he says. “and please, call me Blake.”
I am speechless at this point and without saying anything further (to save myself from humiliation) I grab the escort’s hand and he leads me to my table. I spot the women already sitting there, smiling and whispering to one another as I walk towards them. The whispers suddenly come to holt when the escort seats me at my card place.