have worn to a bare minimum. The fact I wore any at all was newsworthy enough. If Nancy would have seen me she might have likely had a stroke. But I could hardly show up to dinner with one of the most important and powerful men in the county looking like a country bumpkin from some dusty farm in West Texas, which is precisely what I was. So I dusted my cheeks with foundation to minimize my freckles, and decided to lighten my eyes with mascara and a light dusting of gold shimmery powder. With a smack of lipstick I was good to go. I slipped into my sandals and entered the dining room two minutes before Drew did.
If I thought I was fully prepared to meet Drew Fullerton face to face, I was sorely mistaken. The minute his six-foot-two frame entered the magnificent dining room, he sucked the air right out of the joint with an aura so powerful I immediately felt a part of me wilt in response. I had never had this kind of reaction to anyone before, but he was, without question, the most powerful and influential, and famous, person I had ever met in person. His suit was an expensive Italian cut in navy blue. The powder blue shirt underneath brought out the unbelievable light within his piercing blue eyes, which were enhanced by the silky darkness of his ebony hair. His build was athletic, with slightly broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist and powerful hips and legs. I would guess one could bounce a quarter right off of any part of his toned body.
It made me feel frumpy by comparison , which was unusual.
Though I had never really been one of those girls to obsess about my appearance, especially in recent years, I felt underdressed and unr emarkable as his eyes slid ever so coolly across my attire. From the glasses I wore to the clothes I had purchased at a discount department store, I felt every inch the homely schoolmarm. Worse, his eyes gave nothing away, whether or not he was pleased or displeased by what he saw. He just took it all in emotionlessly, like a computer assessing a line of binary code.
“Dad!” Jonathan exclaimed as he burst through the double doors from the kitchen. He flung himself across the room right into his father’s embrace, which cracked right through his father’s icy veneer.
“Hey, sport,” he said with a lopsided smile that very nearly mirrored his brother’s.
Jonathan dragged him by the hand. “I want you to meet Rachel,” he said as he pulled his father to where I stood.
I think I might have actually shrunk a bit once Drew loomed above me. I could smell the woodsy essence of his cologne fill my nostrils as he finally stood close enough to touch. I cleared my throat and extended my hand. “Mr. Fullerton,” I said, much stiffer than I had wanted to. “It’s so nice to finally meet you face to face.”
He smiled, but there was something hard in his eyes as he stared down at me. He took my hand in his in a firm handshake. “Likewise, Miss Dennehy,” he said.
“We made you dinner!” Jonathan announced happily as he gestured to the full table.
Drew was puzzled as he glanced between the table and his son. “You prepared dinner?”
Jonathan nodded. “It’s Rachel’s recipe. We went shopping and everything. It was so cool!”
That icy gaze slid back to me, locking me in its grip as if he were a snake about to ingest a hapless little field mouse. “Is that so?”
Before I could defend or justify my methods, Jonathan pulled Drew to the seat at the head of the table. Cleo entered, holding a bottle of aged wine in her hand.
“Welcome home, Master Fullerton,” she greeted warmly. “Did you have a good flight?”
“Uneventful,” he replied as he sat in the chair and pulled the delicate lace napkin into his lap. No further words were spoken between them as she poured him a glass of blood red wine. He nodded to dismiss her, and she disappeared as unobtrusively as she had arrived. He turned back to Jonathan. “So what are we having?”
Jonathan grinned big as he lifted the
If I thought I was fully prepared to meet Drew Fullerton face to face, I was sorely mistaken. The minute his six-foot-two frame entered the magnificent dining room, he sucked the air right out of the joint with an aura so powerful I immediately felt a part of me wilt in response. I had never had this kind of reaction to anyone before, but he was, without question, the most powerful and influential, and famous, person I had ever met in person. His suit was an expensive Italian cut in navy blue. The powder blue shirt underneath brought out the unbelievable light within his piercing blue eyes, which were enhanced by the silky darkness of his ebony hair. His build was athletic, with slightly broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist and powerful hips and legs. I would guess one could bounce a quarter right off of any part of his toned body.
It made me feel frumpy by comparison , which was unusual.
Though I had never really been one of those girls to obsess about my appearance, especially in recent years, I felt underdressed and unr emarkable as his eyes slid ever so coolly across my attire. From the glasses I wore to the clothes I had purchased at a discount department store, I felt every inch the homely schoolmarm. Worse, his eyes gave nothing away, whether or not he was pleased or displeased by what he saw. He just took it all in emotionlessly, like a computer assessing a line of binary code.
“Dad!” Jonathan exclaimed as he burst through the double doors from the kitchen. He flung himself across the room right into his father’s embrace, which cracked right through his father’s icy veneer.
“Hey, sport,” he said with a lopsided smile that very nearly mirrored his brother’s.
Jonathan dragged him by the hand. “I want you to meet Rachel,” he said as he pulled his father to where I stood.
I think I might have actually shrunk a bit once Drew loomed above me. I could smell the woodsy essence of his cologne fill my nostrils as he finally stood close enough to touch. I cleared my throat and extended my hand. “Mr. Fullerton,” I said, much stiffer than I had wanted to. “It’s so nice to finally meet you face to face.”
He smiled, but there was something hard in his eyes as he stared down at me. He took my hand in his in a firm handshake. “Likewise, Miss Dennehy,” he said.
“We made you dinner!” Jonathan announced happily as he gestured to the full table.
Drew was puzzled as he glanced between the table and his son. “You prepared dinner?”
Jonathan nodded. “It’s Rachel’s recipe. We went shopping and everything. It was so cool!”
That icy gaze slid back to me, locking me in its grip as if he were a snake about to ingest a hapless little field mouse. “Is that so?”
Before I could defend or justify my methods, Jonathan pulled Drew to the seat at the head of the table. Cleo entered, holding a bottle of aged wine in her hand.
“Welcome home, Master Fullerton,” she greeted warmly. “Did you have a good flight?”
“Uneventful,” he replied as he sat in the chair and pulled the delicate lace napkin into his lap. No further words were spoken between them as she poured him a glass of blood red wine. He nodded to dismiss her, and she disappeared as unobtrusively as she had arrived. He turned back to Jonathan. “So what are we having?”
Jonathan grinned big as he lifted the
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