behind, his head resting against it, wondering how long it would take for this night to be finished. He fidgeted with the lapels of his expertly tailored Armani suit, and cast observing glances at the wait staff.
He was disappointed to find that they were mostly men. The few waitresses he did glimpse were stony faced and morose. He moved out from behind the pillar and walked along the sidelines, picking at the passing hors d’oeuvres on the circular trays that the waiters carried. A few people caught his eye and smiled but he gave them cursory nods and moved past without stopping.
He moved slowly into the center of the room, where a large and dramatic sculpture stood. He had actually attended the board meeting in which this event had been planned, and Neal remembered now that there had been some discussion about a sculpture. It had been Cliff Stanley’s idea. He had always been one for unnecessarily grandiose gestures.
The sculpture was of a beautiful, athletic young man standing in a dramatic pose, his clothes emblazoned with the Hargrove Brothers logo. Neal had to suppress a laugh while looking at it. It was so overdone, so obvious. He couldn’t believe his brother had signed off on this, but then again, Neal realized, George often passed the lesser decisions on to other board members, given how much work he had to juggle himself. Neal felt a tiny stab of guilt for being as distant as he was from the running of the company, but he had no real interest in business, and he wasn’t about to force it.
Neal was about to wander off in another direction, when he noticed a pretty young woman standing opposite him, looking up at the statue. She wore a wine red slip dress and black pumps with a sensible heel. Her skin was a dark mahogany brown, the color of honey and chocolate all mixed up together. Her hair was black and curly, and it fell down to her bare shoulders.
Neal could tell from where he stood that her eyes were a warm brown shade. She had focused them on the statue with an appraising expression, and she did not seem to be aware of his gaze on her. Neal was not shy when it came to women. He usually saw what he liked and he went for it, without reservations. He was not looking for anything serious and that meant there was no emotion tied to his conquests.
If a woman liked him, he spent a fun night with her, with the understanding that they would part ways amicably the next day. If she turned him down, he would walk away without any bruise to his ego. This philosophy had worked for Neal over the years. He had his fair share of flings and it suited his lifestyle perfectly.
This woman was no different. Neal approached her with single-minded purpose. She didn’t seem to notice him despite his close proximity. He noticed her gorgeous figure beneath the red material and raised his eyebrows with interest.
“You like the statue?” he asked conversationally, shifting his gaze and looking up at it, instead of her.
She gave a start of surprise.
“Oh…” she looked at him and back at the sculpture, “… it’s alright, I guess. Nothing to write home about. I probably won’t remember it tomorrow.”
Neal nodded, trying to pretend he was interested.
“No… you’ll probably remember all of the overdressed people and the blinding chandeliers.”
She smiled politely, but Neal could tell that his attempts did not impress her. Jumping straight to the point, he turned towards her and gave her his most winning smile.
“I’m Neal,” he said putting his hand forward.
She hesitated only briefly. “I’m Elena.”
“Do you want to maybe cut out early and get some real food?”
His directness seemed to take her by surprise, but she nodded and moved in the direction of the exit. Gratified by her response, he followed her. Then he remembered his brother and stopped her for a moment.
“I need to let my brother know that I’m leaving,” he told
He was disappointed to find that they were mostly men. The few waitresses he did glimpse were stony faced and morose. He moved out from behind the pillar and walked along the sidelines, picking at the passing hors d’oeuvres on the circular trays that the waiters carried. A few people caught his eye and smiled but he gave them cursory nods and moved past without stopping.
He moved slowly into the center of the room, where a large and dramatic sculpture stood. He had actually attended the board meeting in which this event had been planned, and Neal remembered now that there had been some discussion about a sculpture. It had been Cliff Stanley’s idea. He had always been one for unnecessarily grandiose gestures.
The sculpture was of a beautiful, athletic young man standing in a dramatic pose, his clothes emblazoned with the Hargrove Brothers logo. Neal had to suppress a laugh while looking at it. It was so overdone, so obvious. He couldn’t believe his brother had signed off on this, but then again, Neal realized, George often passed the lesser decisions on to other board members, given how much work he had to juggle himself. Neal felt a tiny stab of guilt for being as distant as he was from the running of the company, but he had no real interest in business, and he wasn’t about to force it.
Neal was about to wander off in another direction, when he noticed a pretty young woman standing opposite him, looking up at the statue. She wore a wine red slip dress and black pumps with a sensible heel. Her skin was a dark mahogany brown, the color of honey and chocolate all mixed up together. Her hair was black and curly, and it fell down to her bare shoulders.
Neal could tell from where he stood that her eyes were a warm brown shade. She had focused them on the statue with an appraising expression, and she did not seem to be aware of his gaze on her. Neal was not shy when it came to women. He usually saw what he liked and he went for it, without reservations. He was not looking for anything serious and that meant there was no emotion tied to his conquests.
If a woman liked him, he spent a fun night with her, with the understanding that they would part ways amicably the next day. If she turned him down, he would walk away without any bruise to his ego. This philosophy had worked for Neal over the years. He had his fair share of flings and it suited his lifestyle perfectly.
This woman was no different. Neal approached her with single-minded purpose. She didn’t seem to notice him despite his close proximity. He noticed her gorgeous figure beneath the red material and raised his eyebrows with interest.
“You like the statue?” he asked conversationally, shifting his gaze and looking up at it, instead of her.
She gave a start of surprise.
“Oh…” she looked at him and back at the sculpture, “… it’s alright, I guess. Nothing to write home about. I probably won’t remember it tomorrow.”
Neal nodded, trying to pretend he was interested.
“No… you’ll probably remember all of the overdressed people and the blinding chandeliers.”
She smiled politely, but Neal could tell that his attempts did not impress her. Jumping straight to the point, he turned towards her and gave her his most winning smile.
“I’m Neal,” he said putting his hand forward.
She hesitated only briefly. “I’m Elena.”
“Do you want to maybe cut out early and get some real food?”
His directness seemed to take her by surprise, but she nodded and moved in the direction of the exit. Gratified by her response, he followed her. Then he remembered his brother and stopped her for a moment.
“I need to let my brother know that I’m leaving,” he told
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