But I bite my tongue and resist slapping him in front of everyone. I hear and feel him breathe me in as his wet lips kiss my cheek. The most disgusting sensation courses through my body.
I begin to pull back, but he holds me in place and takes another deep breath before brushing his fingers over my ass and letting me go.
Glaring at Nic, I wait for him to do something about it, like I always do. But nothing changes this time. He shakes his head just enough for me to notice.
“Have a great night, you two.” I smile and turn, already feeling the creep’s eyes burning into my ass. “Can you stand up for me just once in your damn life, Nic?”
His smile shows his pearly whites to the onlookers as he whispers, “Keep your voice down, Kat. And you know better than that. These people and this world aren’t as easily maneuvered as it may seem. So, for God’s sake, just suck it up for a few nights a year. What is your deal tonight?”
My blood is boiling, and the dress feels tighter than ever, as does the ring on my left hand. I opt not to say anything back. It will get me nowhere and more than likely only piss me off more when he opens his mouth again.
Nic walks us to our table and gets my chair for me. I smile and take my seat. Nic joins me to my right. Andluckyfor me, only old men fill the seats around the table.
I’m going to kill someone tonight.
At least the food is always good at these things. Tonight’s menu is roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, sauteed green beans, and white gravy.
The one plus about this table being filled with men from the company is that they only want to talk shop the entire time. And clueless old me couldn’t possibly have anything to add. So, I do one of my favorite things that comes with these events—eat.
Not once is a question directed my way, not even small talk for that matter. I could be a briefcase in this chair and be equally as interesting to them. Maybe even more so because I would at least contain information pertaining to what they’re discussing.
By the time my plate is empty, I am regretting eating so fast because, now, I have absolutely nothing to do. Except, of course, to smile and nod at their jokes and grand ideas for the company. I think that, at this point, I could teach classes on how to be an empty-minded trophy wife at a man’s side. I know for sure I could get the pathetic husbands to pay any astronomical price I set.
Instead, I will stick to teaching painting classes three days a week at The Bristle—a locally owned art studio that offers tons of different art classes.
Nic absolutely hated it when I got a part-time. But if I’d stayed in that house all day, every day, I would have fully lost my mind. When I started at The Bristle, I finally felt like I got a little piece of myself back after years of locking myself away.
Painting is like hitting a reset button on my being. Stress slides away. Reality fades. Time doesn’t exist. The only thing that matters is the medium, the tool, the canvas, and me. It is the only time that I feel a sense of true self.
When I was growing up, painting and art was my safe space in the chaos of my life. As I bounced from foster home to foster home, art was my constant. It was what I got lost in when life was unbearable.
I never had any real sense of family. I made friends, but those only seemed to last so long. I was always alone—at least, until Nic came along.
As much as we don’t always get along, the stability he gives me means everything to me. The same bed, the same home. I never want for anything really.
The room around me breaks out into applause, dragging me back to the present. My cheeks hurt, and I realize I have been smiling this entire time. Nic scoots his chair back and waves to the room, and I know it’s time for his speech. I clap along with the crowd as he makes his way to the stage.
The guy onstage shakes his hand and passes the microphone over to Nic. I think the thing I dislike the most about him is his charisma. He can charm any living thing into believing whatever he wants. But I’m also envious of it too.
“What an incredible night this has been. This is all for each one of you. To celebrate the hard work, the countless hours, and the blood, sweat, and tears that you have put in this year. This company would be nothing without you. I would be nothing without you.” He rests his hands on the podium, assuming a casual stance. “I have a few shout-outs for some deserving staff this year.”
He points into the crowd with the mic. “Richard Bastiel, you single-handedly executed the planning and rollout of five new locations in some of the biggest cities in the world this year. In honor of that, we have gotten you a gift.”
Nic waves to someone standing off to the side of the stage. With a wrapped box with a bow on top, she walks over to the dick himself and hands him the present. I swear to God, I think she might have slightly curtsied.
“To celebrate your incredible accomplishments, we are giving you a five-day trip, all expenses paid, to anywhere in the world for you and a guest.”
Applause rings out, and I decide to tune out, having already heard enough. But Nic’s booming voice in the speakers is impossible to ignore.
He goes on to give three more workers—all men—some overly priced gifts in front of a lot of their staff, whom, I might add, are not receiving any gifts.
Instead of giving away these hideously expensive gifts, he could have given the entire company staff a bonus.
Nic continues to boast about running the best company in the world with the best people for another hour or so before we are finally waiting for the valet to bring our car around.
The same young man from earlier brings our car up and avoids meeting Nic’s eyes. Without a single word, Nic takes the keys from his hand and gets in the car.
For God’s sake, has he always been this much of a stuck-up douchebag?
