It wasn't exactly a Broadway production, but I was proud of my theater co-workers for all taking their jobs so seriously.
Even as people murmured about swollen glands and the possibility of more people falling ill, everyone kept repeating, “The show must go on!”
I still had my dress rehearsal makeup on when I went to Trevor's office Christmas party. Because my sister also worked at the real estate development office, she grabbed me when I walked in the door. The party was in a banquet room at an upscale hotel, and everyone seemed really serious.
Nikki gave me a crooked grin and said, “Got enough makeup on, kid?”
I grabbed her head and smeared my blush-covered cheek against hers while she squealed. Some gray-haired guys in suits turned and stared.
I recognized a few people, including some of Nikki's friends, and the real estate agents who'd been at the show suite Trevor and I had “toured.”
“Bar?” I asked.
She pointed, and I saw there was a lineup and only one bartender. I said, “Hey, look, is that whats-his-name over there? That actor guy you love?”
Nikki turned, and I grabbed the gin and tonic from her hand and downed it in one gulp.
“You're such a brat,” she said.
“Merry Christmas!” I hiccuped.
We moved through the crowd of people in suits, until we found Trevor. He was clapping another man on the back and both were laughing heartily. I stood silently, wondering if he was going to claim me, to make it official and all. His whole office knew we were dating, but few of them had seen us together yet.
He didn't leave me hanging for long. He stretched out one long arm and beckoned me to come join him, then introduced me to his colleague.
I was bursting at the seams to tell him all about rehearsal and how excited I was about dancing in The Nutcracker the next day. It wasn't a ballet production—I'm not that talented!—but a family-friendly version with some modern dance routines, a bit of physical comedy, and one scene performed with puppets. My muscles were aching from the high kicks at rehearsal, and I was going to be popping Ibuprofen like candy, but the excitement was bubbling in my veins.
After only two days, I was already re-evaluating my life and career. I didn't want to work in an office anymore. I wanted to sing, dance, and act, and the first person I wanted to tell was not my sister for a change, but Trevor.
He squeezed my hand, but kept talking to the other man about negotiating height restrictions with the city. Finally, he turned to me and said, “Naomi, if this talk is dull for you, you can mix and mingle.”
I stared up at his professionally-cool expression. I didn't know whether to apologize for having been standing there with a bored look, or to take him at face value. I didn't want to embarrass him in front of clients, so I mumbled something about my sister needing company and wandered off, feeling like a jackass.
I found the ladies' room and wiped off most of the stage makeup. At least it was a fancy hotel washroom, with baskets full of toiletries, soft tissues, and cold cream.
As I was fixing my hair, the lady real estate agent who'd been at the show suite came in, laughing and talking with a girlfriend. As soon as they saw me, they both clammed up instantly.
They went into the bathroom stalls and I stepped back to examine myself in the mirror. I wore a simple, navy blue dress and matching pumps. With the excess makeup taken off, I looked respectable enough. So why did I feel like “the young floozy” dating the boss?
I stared into my eyes in the mirror, and then my gaze traveled down a pretty little card tucked into the basket of toiletries: Believe in yourself and the limitations of life drop away.
It was true. I believed I could dance all my parts in the play. I just had to believe I could be more than a transitional girlfriend for Trevor, but a real partner.
I left the washroom and found him, where he was still talking to the same gentleman.
This time, I listened closely to their conversation, and when there was a lull, I asked the man a question.
The man, a Mr. Charles, seemed all too delighted to explain to me about preserving the character in heritage neighborhoods. I love old houses, so the conversation flowed naturally. I barely noticed Trevor getting closer and closer to me, until he was standing right at my side, one arm casually around my back.
When the conversation with Mr. Charles concluded naturally, Trevor and I walked away, and he gave me one quick look that said it all. I'd done well.
When we sat down for dinner, sharing a table with my sister and a few other friendly people, I leaned over and whispered in Trevor's ear, “You look so sexy in your suit.”
He then whispered in my ear, “I bet you can't wait to take it off.”
“It's a shame it's such a long drive back to your house. I don't know how long I can wait. Maybe we can borrow the coat check room for a few minutes?”
“Only a few minutes?” He nibbled my earlobe.
“That's all I need. You set me on fire, baby. I swear you just touch me and I'm coming for you.”
He growled, his voice low and rumbling in his chest, and his hot hand moved possessively up my thigh. At his touch, desire pooled in my body and my pu**y tingled with energy.
Suddenly, I remembered I had an early-morning call time, and I wasn't planning on going all the way out to his house that night.
I pulled my face away and broke the news. He looked devastated, then excused himself from the table.
The waiters came by with our steaming food, and we all got started.
Trevor came back, grinning.
He didn't say a word, but slipped something into my hand under the table.
I pulled it out from under the tablecloth. A keycard. He'd booked us a room at the hotel.
“Oh, you shouldn't have,” I said, concerned about the cost.
He raised his eyebrows and gave me a devilish look.
“But I'm glad you did,” I finished.
After dinner, the lights in the banquet room dimmed, and the party got a little more festive. The office manager had organized some games, and we did some relay race activities that included a speed-gift-wrapping competition. I won the gift-wrap segment, and Trevor cheered for me like I was winning the Olympics, and not a plastic mistletoe ornament.
After the games, the music got turned up and people started dancing. Trevor and I made it through three songs, but the third one was a slow song, and as he pressed against me, I could tell he was thinking about the hotel room waiting for us upstairs, and all the things he was going to do to me.
I couldn't keep my hands off him, so I begged him to take me away before I embarrassed both of us in front of his co-workers.