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I watch the two of them chatting, and just as I begin to feel as if I’m intruding, Dylan’s thumb slips down the small of my back and then his hand is on my hip. He squeezes ever so slightly, telling me to be patient, and I lean into his soothing touch, smiling politely as they talk.
“She’s just fine, visiting our new granddaughter in Seattle,” Ollie says proudly. “I’d have gone, but with the quarterly meeting next week, I had to stick around. I promised I’d go over the holidays, though.”
“About that. I may have the best opportunity you’ll get this year to get away for a long winter break,” Dylan says, getting to business as he indicates to me. “Ollie, I’d like to introduce you to Raven Hill. She recently interviewed with me, so you know she’s smart, ambitious, and skilled, but I think she might actually fit better with you at your firm.”
“Oh, really?” Ollie says, turning interested eyes to me. Dylan’s introduction clearly shows how well he knows Ollie, and how much forethought he gave this introduction.
“Dylan mentioned you have a position at your firm for a fund manager, and I expressed my interest.”
“I do, in fact,” Ollie says as Dylan quietly excuses himself to get drinks. “I’m looking for someone who can do the research and make the calls on trades, letting me focus on the big picture operations of the firm. While leaving the office at five might not be in my immediate future, I would like to see the sunset from something besides my office window occasionally.”
“I see. That’s exactly what I want to do.”
“See the sunset from an office window?” he asks comically, and with my laugh, the conversation moves easily. It’s obvious that he’s passionate about business but wanting to slow down. I could see myself very easily working for him and filling a spot that could give him an opportunity to spend more time with family.
After several minutes of talking, Dylan reappears as if he senses our impromptu interview is drawing to a close. He bids Ollie goodbye, sending his regard to Wendy, and we continue working around the room.
I feel accomplished. This is what I’m meant to be doing and where I’m meant to do it. I’ve met so many people tonight, those in positions of power, not only in the stock markets, but in the world. I’ve done my best to make a good impression and engage in polite small talk, all the while trying to hide the fact that at times, I’m still shaking with nerves. I could see the measuring look in peoples’ eyes, but even the ones who were clearly just networking or meeting me because I was with Dylan were at least respectful of my skills and my talents.
How did I go this long without this? Sure, part of it was my own stubbornness about wanting to ‘do it myself’. But as I think back, I realize that something, or more accurately, someone else, was holding me back too.
Evan.He told me more than once that events like this weren’t worth it and he only attendedbecause of his father. And after I mentioned doing things on my own, he latched on to that idea, making it seem like attending as his girlfriend would mark me as a gold-digging ladder jumper. Just thinking his name brings back that twist in my stomach.
As if thinking of him summoned the devil himself, I look up from a tray of champagne, picking up my third glass of the night, to find his sharp gaze piercing mine. Before I can turn, he calls out my name loud enough for everyone around us to hear.
I wish I didn’t look up. I wish I walked off as though I didn’t hear him. Instead, I plaster on a fake smile, one that hopefully reads as ‘fancy seeing you here’ and not ‘I hate you with the flames of a thousand suns’. I don’t go to him. I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how that would appear to those around us. But rather, I hold my ground and allow him to walk over to me.
Where’s Dylan?My heart races with apprehension and a flash of annoyance pricks at my skin. The one time he excuses himself for the restroom, Evan finds me.
He was waiting for this moment, I realize.
“Raven,” he says with a shark’s smile before leaning in as though he’s going to kiss my cheek. Instead, he whispers, “They would all line up to fuck you, but not a single one of them would hire you.”
He stands tall, leaving me stunned and wondering if he really just said that. His cruelty is vicious, hitting my weak spot with deadly accuracy, blasting it to smithereens and leaving a gaping hole in my confidence.
“After all, that’s what Sharpe is doing, right?” he murmurs, raising his brow sharply at the accusation. And then, he acts as if he’s just seen a friend, leaving me alone.
I’m left breathless, frozen in place, with my smile crumbling at the edges.
Is that all he sees me as? All he used me for? All that time, was it truly nothing more than sex? Was I that blind?
I thought I had prepared to see him tonight. I was wrong.A fatal mistake on my part, it seems, because our little tete-a-tete has garnered attention from those around us, and they’re watching me fall apart with barely disguised hunger, as if my embarrassment is reality-TV fodder for their enjoyment. Even those I had thought respectful and polite are now whispering to one another, their laughter-filled eyes fastened on me as if I’m a living, breathing car crash they can’t look away from.
Get it together, Raven!
Clearing my throat, I force my smile to return by sheer willpower, meet eyes with three people around me, and take a measured sip of my champagne. I’m doing everything I can to shut it all down—the shock, the horror, the feeling of not belonging.
I keep to myself on the edge of the ballroom, wishing Dylan would come back so we can leave. I’ve done what I wanted, meeting Ollie and the others, though I have serious doubts it’ll do any good after Evan’s comment. Secondarily, irritating Evan seems to be a lost cause. He wasn’t upset. He was amused by my appearance on Dylan’s arm. As if it proves what he thought all along—that I’m willing to do anything to make it.
“Fuck that,” I whisper, finishing off my champagne a bit too quickly. “And fuck him.”
“I do hope you’re using that in a positive way if you’re talking about me,” Dylan says, reappearing at my side. His warm hand finds its way to the small of my back again, and he gives me a flirtatious smirk.
He has no idea. I debate on telling him. But I also wonder if what Evan said is true. Dylan didn’t hire me, and while he’s been gentlemanly, there’s been a growing tension between us. Is he simply biding his time before he makes a move? Am I destined to be nothing more than a plaything for those in power, no matter how hard I work?
The idea startles me more than it should. Perhaps I’m more naïve than I would’ve thought becauseI truly felt that my experience and dedication would matter, that my skills and instincts would mean something.
I stare into Dylan’s eyes, feeling my foundation crumble beneath me but too lost to find new footholds. There’s concern sparkling in his gaze, a question of what’s changed, but when I lick my lips to speak, his attention drops to my mouth and that’s when I know.
