New York Nights
Page 81

 Whitney G.

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I rolled my eyes as the car pulled in front of the building, not caring anything about his ridiculous requests. From what I could see, the only people standing outside were valets and doormen, and the luxury cars and limousines were long abandoned.
I handed the driver a five and stepped out, holding my umbrella over my head as I walked up the steps to two waiting doormen.
In unison, they uttered, “Good evening,” and opened the doors, letting me inside a glittering, gold lobby. To my surprise, the grand space was completely empty.
Before I could ask where I was supposed to go, a white-suited bellman stepped off the elevator and motioned for me to step inside.
“You’re the girlfriend of Ben Walsh, correct?” he asked.
“Supposedly. Depends on what day of the week it is.”
He laughed and hit the button for the top floor. “I’d say it’s more than ‘supposedly.’ He’s asked me about your arrival six times tonight. Described you to a T.”
“How so?”
“I’ll quote him verbatim,” he said. “Beautiful woman with long, wavy black hair and the prettiest set of emerald green eyes you’ll ever see. That’s how I knew it was you.”
I blushed, feeling somewhat guilty for being so upset with Ben. “Thank you. I’ll tell him how sweet that is.”
He nodded and faced the front, watching the lights above the doors flash as we passed every floor. When it reached ‘57’, the doors suddenly slid open, letting in the blinding flashes of photographers.
“Anyone famous?” Someone yelled as the cameras clicked consistently. “Is she somebody?”
“We’ll figure it out later. Just get the shot!”
Holding my hand over my eyes, I moved out of their line of fire and into the ballroom’s main event, the re-launch of Cosmopolitan magazine.
The room was drenched in beautiful silver and white decorations, and previous covers of the magazine were standing atop mini stages throughout the space. Waiters weaved through the guests with champagne trays held high, and almost all of New York’s elite were putting on perfect smiles for the press. Dressed in thousand dollar gowns and impeccably tailored suits, their astonishing wealth could be sensed from miles away. These were the type of people who looked for any occasion to show it off, the type of people who would show up to the opening of a gift bag if it meant there was a chance their face would make it into the papers.
I smiled as I moved through the guests, saying hello to a few familiar faces as I searched for Ben. After several minutes of looking, I sent him a quick “Where are you?” text, but he never responded.
Knowing that he was probably posing for endless pictures with local celebrities, I grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray and walked toward the windows that faced the Brooklyn Bridge.

I was halfway there when his parents, Mrs. Editor in Chief of Cosmopolitan and Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, stepped in front of me. As usual, his mother’s red hair was perfectly curled and coifed, her dress a slimming shade of blue that complemented her eyes. And his brooding father, with his copper-colored hair and dark brown eyes, looked as if he’d just stepped off the set of a political drama. Ben was a clear, carbon copy.
“Good evening, Gillian.” His mother extended her perfectly manicured hand. “You look rather radiant tonight.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Walsh.”
“My pleasure. Ben was just circling the room looking for you. Have you seen him?”
“Not yet.”
“You’ll run into him eventually, I’m sure.” His father shook my hand. “He told me you were secretly interested in applying to work at my firm. Is that true, Gillian?”
Hell no... “Maybe, Mr. Walsh. I’m not telling.”
“Ha! I knew it! Apply this week and I’ll hire you whenever you want to start. No questions asked. I’ve told Ben from the very beginning that you were a great catch. I know you love working at that nonprofit and your technology start up, but if you joined the family business, I think you’d love it a lot more.”
“What nonprofit?” I asked.
“What nonprofit?” He laughed. “Oh, you’re so modest, Gillian. I love that about you.” He lowered his voice. “There’s no shame working for the less fortunate. I enjoy the few pro bono consults I do every year. It puts everything in perspective...Also looks very good on my taxes.”
“I bet.” I forced a smile, wondering why the hell Ben had fed his father so many lies about me and my jobs.
“Oh, oh, oh!” His mother grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray. “That’s the pop culture editor from The Wall Street Journal. I need to make sure she gets a few lines directly from me.” She gave me one last smile. “Enjoy the party, Gillian. Make sure you join us for the official toast in an hour.” She and Mr. Walsh walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
I checked my phone to see if Ben had finally texted me back, and when I saw that he hadn’t, I was more than determined to find him and insist we step out of this party to talk. Now.
Circling the room, I checked every cocktail table, every champagne fountain, and every cheese and wine station. I even checked the bathrooms. I was almost tempted to have the DJ call for him over the music, but out the corner of my eye I spotted him standing in the corner by the windows. With another woman.
I stepped closer, hoping my eyes were playing a trick on me, but with every step, his distinctive features came into clearer focus, and the same hands that touched me were caressing the ass of a brunette in a way-too-short grey dress. He was whispering into her ear as she leaned against his shoulder, as her bony fingers combed through his hair.
“Am I interrupting something?” I stopped right next to them. “Ben?”
They immediately tore apart, looking at me with wide eyes. The girl was a girl I’d seen several times before, one of Ben’s coworkers at his father’s firm.
“Um...Hi, Gillian,” she said, red-cheeked. Without waiting for me to respond, she rushed away—leaving me and Ben alone.
Ben cleared his throat. “I was looking for you.”
“Did you think I was hiding up Allyson’s ass?”
“It’s not what you think,” he said. “How was your day today, babe?”
I didn’t answer.
“Well, I’ll go first. My day was okay. I secured two new deals, thank you very much for asking. I also found a few new vacation places I’d like us to see next summer. Now, how was your day??”
I blinked.
“Okay, then.” He looked completely oblivious. “What took you so long to get here?”
“You can’t honestly think that we’re simply going to bypass the fact that you were damn near fucking Allyson in public.”
“I wasn’t fucking her, Gillian. If I was fucking her, trust me, you would know.”
“Ben—”
“I think I would know better than to do something like that in public, don’t you think?” He scoffed. “There’s a Hilton down the street for Christ’s sake and I get free rooms. I’m pretty sure I would take her there and not here.”
I stared at him, completely taken aback.
He laughed, stepping closer and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Lighten up, Gill. Learn how to laugh a little.”