Unfortunately, it’s also left to me to organize between departments getting the influencers’ posts coordinated, approved, and scheduled, on top of all the travel and other arrangements. But Matt practically worships the ground I walk on the whole week, as the idea has sparked a flurry of interest and activity across the whole company. People are now actively jealous of those who get to attend the meeting, and Matt is on cloud nine as I’ve stepped back to let him take full credit for it.
It’s worth it, seeing him so happy. He’s so damn serious and wound up, it’s nice to see him smiling for a good portion of the day. Every time he shows me his follower counts spiking as the promo posts hit, I feel like he smiles just a bit bigger.
But as Thursday evening arrives, I stand in my bathroom, more nervous than I’ve been in a while. Social situations make me beyond anxious, and this one has a lot riding on it. Though admittedly I look better than I can ever remember in a strapless black cocktail dress that somehow gives my tiny chest the appearance of cleavage, with an empire waist that hugs the small curve of my midsection before flowing out gracefully and ending mid-thigh. It almost makes me look curvy. Paired with a sparkly pointed heel, I’m a rather normal five-and-a-half feet tall for once and my legs don’t look like the short sticks they usually do, but instead appear long and shapely in the nude tights I’m wearing. Topping it off, my hair has been slicked into an elegant cascade that floats over my shoulder, and my makeup is just smoky enough to be sultry without being too much.
Despite feeling pretty damn good about the way I look, the thought of an evening trapped between ogling one of the most attractive social media celebrities on the planet and the hot guy I couldn’t stop drooling over who will almost definitely be making our food, well, my awkwardness and complete lack of subtlety is bound to embarrass me. Badly.
“Car’s here!” Matt calls up the stairs.
With a sigh, I slip my cellphone and house key into the pocket hidden in my dress’s folds and carefully make my way downstairs. The last thing I need is to trip and fall flat on my face before the night has even started. When I get to the bottom, Matt glances up at me impatiently from by the front door, but his expression quickly turns to shock.
“Damn, Cee, you look good.”
“Thanks for sounding so surprised by that.” My voice drips with sarcasm. I look him up and down as he continues to stare. He actually looks pretty damn good too, in a black silk suit, shirt, and tie that’s well tailored to his broad shoulders and slim form. Normally I’d give him a load of shit to keep his not-inconsiderable opinion of his looks in check, but I know he’s nervous enough as it is. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘dashing,’” he offers smugly.
I saunter across the living room, shaking my head. “Whatever you say, Mr. Roberts.”
He extends an arm, and I warily loop mine through his. He takes note of my skeptical look.
“What? I can’t escort my beautiful sister down the stairs?” he asks as we descend to street level.
I upgrade my expression from skeptical to full-blown Who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother?
It elicits a chuckle from him. “Okay, I just didn’t want you to fall down and embarrass yourself,” he admits.
I scoff and shake my head. “Well, I guess that’s nice of you?”
Matt opens the rear passenger door and gestures for me to get in. “What can I say? I’m a nice guy.”
I slide into the dark leather seats, and he climbs in after me. “Have you been drinking?” I ask.
“No, why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure the last time you were nice to me, we were eight and you wanted my ice cream cone. So I’m just wondering where this is coming from.”
Matt shoots me an annoyed glance. “Speaking of not drinking,” he segues abruptly, “I think it’s better if neither of us drinks much. There’s going to be a lot going on tonight, and I want to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
I screw my lips to the side to avoid saying anything snippy. Because right now he’s not my brother, he’s my boss. I hate how quickly he can switch between the two, but I like my job. And my brother. Well, most of the time anyway. So I simply nod. It’d be nice to have something to take the edge off, but it definitely increases the odds of making a complete ass of myself.
The ride is short, and before I know it we’ve arrived. Matt wanted to come early, so here we are, half hour before the department heads are set to arrive. I can’t decide whether to hope I see Drew or not. If I could trust myself to act normal, it’d be one thing. But I have zero chill.
I lead Matt into the restaurant, already twisted up with nerves. The woman behind the podium looks up with a polite smile.
“Table for two?” she asks kindly.
I shake my head, returning her smile. “I’m CJ Roberts, and this is my brother, Matt. We’ve booked the private area for this evening?”
“Ah, yes, of course, Ms. Roberts, Mr. Roberts,” she replies. She picks up a device and taps a few keys quickly, then looks back up with a reassuring smile. “Mr. Campbell will be right down.”
“Thank you,” I reply, turning back to find Matt taking in his surroundings. “Well? What do you think?”
He peers over the tables behind the podium, taking in the view of the light of the just-setting sun glittering off the bay through the windows.
“So far, so good,” he replies stoically. I hear the first hint of nerves in his voice.
“CJ?” Scott’s voice behind me causes me to jump a little. I turn and he’s smiling tolerantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Recovering, I shake my head. “Not at all. Scott, this is my brother, Matt.”
My brother doesn’t extend his hand, and I can tell Scott was waiting for his lead, having been rebuffed by me the previous week. He takes it in complete stride.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says to Matt, gesturing to the stairs on the other side of the foyer. “Allow me to show you upstairs.”
“Thank you,” Matt murmurs, following him.
“I’ll be right up,” I assure him. Matt barely looks back, simply nodding. I turn back to the podium and catch the hostess’s eye. “We’ll have three special guests arriving in about ten minutes, then the rest of the guests should show around seven.”
“Of course, I’ll keep an eye out and see them upstairs personally,” she assures me.
“Thank you,” I reply, then turn and head up the stairs.
As I round the corner into the indoor space alongside the bar, I almost stop in my tracks when I see Scott and Matt with a third man, whose back is to me. But having gotten a good look at that gorgeous backside before, I know without a doubt who it is.
Butterflies tumble in my stomach, and I nervously smooth my hair and give my empire waist a tug to make sure it’s where it should be. Then, as carefully as I can, I walk toward them at a measured pace, praying my inner klutz doesn’t decide to make an appearance.
Matt catches my eye around Drew and gestures for me to join them, so I make my way to his side. And I finally allow myself to look up at Drew. His eyes are fixed on me, and he’s every bit as handsome as I remember, this time in a black chef’s jacket with silver buttons.