Hold your horses, the voice in my head scolds.It was just a kiss.It’s not like the billionaire proposed or something.Besides, Mr.Masters probably just had too much to drink and got caught up in the excitement of the party.It’s nothing to lose your head over.
Of course the voice is right and yet I can’t help but smile to myself again.I almost leaped out of bed at six a.m.this morning, and took care to wear something a tiny bit nicer than my usual boxy grey uniform, although I don’t think I’ll be seeing Dominic today.Still, I feel pretty and wanted, and decided to take extra pains.
As a result, I’m dressed a black skirt that comes down to the knee, paired with a filmy white blouse which is still totally appropriate.My golden hair is in its usual bun, and black hose covers my thighs ending in a pair of grey trainers.A rueful smile crosses my mouth because the sneakers are the only weird part of my outfit today.Unfortunately, I only brought two pairs: the black ballerinas and these grey shoes, and now that I’ve lost one of my ballerinas, the sneakers are my only option.
But still, I need to find the missing slipper because it’s important to be frugal at this juncture of my life.My deceased husband’s life insurance paid out, but the funds are dwindling and I need to save every penny from this job.As a result, I look around furtively before letting myself into the formal dining room where Mr.Masters kissed me last night.It’s silent and still, with a heavy oak table paired with matching chairs.The wallpaper is a deep crimson striped with gold, and a beautiful bouquet stands on the otherwise unadorned table.
But where could my shoe be?I survey the carpeted floor, but it’s nowhere to be found.Then, I get down on my knees and peer beneath the table.Could it have gotten kicked down here somehow?But even in the gloom, I can see that there’s nothing but table legs and chair legs.Hmm.Where could it be?
Suddenly, I realize what must have happened.Dominic must have picked up my lost shoe and taken it to his room.Oh god, no!How embarrassing!How would I even go about getting it back?Ugh, I can’t even picture the conversation we’d have in my head.
Pulse racing, I let myself out of the dining room and tiptoe down the long hallway to where the penthouse’s private quarters are located.I can’t believe this is happening, but desperate times call for desperate measures.Besides, Mr.Masters won’t be back until six, right?I have plenty of time to do some stealthy reconnaissance.
The door to the master suite is closed and the hallway empty.Perfect.Looking around surreptitiously, I push the door open before letting myself in, as silent as a mouse.Oh wow, this suite is the epitome of luxury because I’m standing in a small drawing room that leads into a massive bedroom.Through the doorway, I can see a king-size bed done up with silvery grey linens, and another door leading to what must be the en suite.But the focal point of the suite is the eastern-facing wall because it’s completely occupied by floor to ceiling windows.I can see why because there’s an astonishing view of Central Park just on the other side.
Unable to help myself, I walk through the bedroom and let myself out through the sliding glass door and onto the terrace.It’s gorgeous, with colorful blooms, potted plants, and elegant, yet hardy, outdoor furniture.But thepièce de resistanceis Central Park itself.We’re high up above the tree tops, and the view is absolutely breathtaking as I take in the Great Lawn, Sheep’s Meadow, Belvedere Castle, as well as numerous runners, walkers, bicyclists, and horse-drawn carriages.I can almost hear the laughter and conversation of park-goers, and smile to myself.What must it be like to be carefree and relaxed on a gorgeous day like this, while strolling through the best and biggest park in New York City?What would it be like to let my worries float away, without the shadow of my past hanging over me?I’d feel like a different person, certainly, but the fact is that nothing can change the fact that I’m me: Angela White.I’m a totally normal woman, except for the fact that my deceased husband abused me while he was alive.
No one could tell.In fact, Ned was like Prince Charming when I first met him because he was tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed and obviously well-off.I was filling in at reception at the Clearview Hotel on Ports Road, when he strode in with a charming smile, and his hair brushed back from his high forehead.
“Ned White,” he rumbled.“Checking in.”
I was flustered, and my cheeks blushed pink.
“Certainly, sir,” I murmured as my hands typed quickly on the keyboard.“Welcome to Clearview.It’s a pleasure to have you staying with us.”
Of course, it was then that I forgot everything to know about checking in a guest.I fumbled, I hemmed and hawed, and generally made a fool of myself until my friend Rose stepped in.But Mr.White didn’t seem put off by my obvious incompetence.He merely winked as I handed him his room key, and murmured “thanks” before striding away.
“Wow, what a hunk!”Rose sighed, staring at his departing back.“It’s like Prince Charming just set foot in our hotel!”
“I know,” I murmured.“And he’s in the Royal Suite as well, so he’s obviously living the good life.”
Of course, I thought that’d be the end of it.I’d go back to my housekeeping duties, and Mr.White would depart when his trip was over.But to my surprise, we bumped into each other later the next day when I filled in as a waitress at the Garden Café on the first floor.
“Didn’t I see you yesterday?”he asked as I stood by his table, dressed in a pink uniform with a jaunty cap on my head and a white ruffled apron wrapped around my waist.“You were working reception, right?”
I blushed like a fire engine.
“Yes, we’re a bit short-staffed this week, so I’m a Girl Friday of sorts.I’m covering a number of different stations this week.”
The blonde man smiled, flashing even white teeth.
“Well, a generalist is always appreciated, no matter the sector,” he said.“Ned White,” he added, holding out a firm, square hand.“It’s nice to meet you again.”
I nodded and shook his hand, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“Angela Harris,” I said.“But everyone calls me Angie.”
“Angie,” Ned said thoughtfully, rolling the syllables over his tongue before flashing me another movie-star smile.“I like it.”
My knees felt weak, and perspiration broke out in the hollow between my breasts.But Ned didn’t seem to notice, and before I realized what was happening, he asked me out on a date.It turns out that he wasn’t some sketchy businessman passing through Austin for a week.He’s a resident of the city, but as a successful realtor, he’d just sold his own apartment for a staggering sum, and was a long term guest at the hotel until he found his next apartment.
I was swept off my feet.It’s the only way to put it because I felt like a princess in a fairy tale.I was literally the chambermaid, scrubbing toilets and mopping floors, when I was whisked to a better life by a handsome, rich, and charming man.Even crazier, Ned proposed marriage after a whirlwind courtship, and I accepted.What girl wouldn’t?Ned White was eligible, attractive, wealthy, and debonair.There was no reason to say no, and I was head over heels for my fiancé.
Unfortunately, the fairy tale ended soon after we were married.In fact, it ended right after we got back from our ceremony at City Hall.
“Angie, where are my slippers?”he asked when we stepped into his apartment.By then, Ned had found new accommodations, and I was excited to start playing house with my handsome husband.I shrugged and smiled without a care in the world.
“I’m not sure, Ned.What would you like for dinner—oh!”
