“Fucking adorable,” I mutter to myself as I type out a response.
Me: Now that picture is a masterpiece I’d hang in my office. The art museum can have your painting. ;）
I just sent her a flirty text with a winking smiley face. Who the fuck am I?
I feel my stomach do a small flip as I wait for her response.
Margot: Eleanor misses you. We hope your meeting goes well.
I’m a little annoyed she didn’t respond to my comment; I want to keep the flirty feeling going.
Me: I miss her too and thank you both for the well wishes.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and I’m about to head back to the table when I type out another message.
Me: Do YOU miss me?
I can see the three dancing little dots appear again as she appears to be typing out a response but just as quickly, they disappear. I stand there at the bar, staring at my phone for another minute before heading back to the table to excuse myself.
“Gentlemen, I feel like we had a very successful meeting here tonight. I’ll be in touch in the coming weeks, but I have an early flight and should head back to my hotel.”
The men stand and shake my hand, and I go outside and hail a cab, not in the mood to wait for an Uber. I check my phone a few more times but there’s no response from Margot.
The drive back to the hotel is quick. I pay the fare and decide to give her a call.
“Hello?” Her voice sounds cautious and a bit timid.
“Hello, Miss Silver. I wanted to call and wish Eleanor a good night if I could?”
“Of course, let me put her on.”
“Hi, Daddy. I, uh, I painted a picture for your office, and Miss Margot made one too.”
I smile at the excitement in my little angel’s voice. “I heard, sweetie. I can’t wait to see the finished picture and hang it in my office.”
She tells me in great detail about her day, how much she loves playing the piano, and all the new things Muffin is doing.
“Muffin, say eeyow!” she says a few times and I can hear the cat’s bell jingling on the other end. I also hear Margot giggle as she instructs Eleanor to be careful with the kitten.
“Let me talk to Miss Silver now, sweetie. Be a good girl and get ready for bed, okay?”
“Okay,” she says sadly. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Good night.”
I wait momentarily for Margot to pick up the phone again.
“Hello, sir?” she says cheerily.
“Eleanor getting ready for bed?” I ask, loosening my tie as I kick off my shoes and lean back on the bed.
“Yes, she’s brushing her teeth currently.”
It’s silent for a moment but I can’t hold back from asking her what I asked earlier.
“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I say, and I can hear my voice drop a few octaves. Most likely a result of the alcohol, talking a lot today, and the general mood I’m in.
“Wh—uh, what question is that?” Her voice wavers a bit, her escalating pitch telling me she knows exactly what question I’m referring to.
“Do you miss me?”
I can hear her breath coming out in soft puffs. “Of course, sir. We both miss you around the house.”
More silence.
“I should really get in the bathroom and help Eleanor.”
She’s not playing my game.
I laugh, rubbing my eyes. The exhaustion is clearly getting to me.
“Have a good night, Miss Silver,” I say before hanging up.
I flip back over to my email and type out a message to my assistant, Olivia.
Olivia,
Please respond to the invitation for the Chicago Music and Fine Arts event this weekend. I’ll be attending with a plus one.
-Graham
“Miss Silver, can I have a moment of your time?” She glances up from the book in her hands, her legs curled comfortably beneath her as she sips a mug of tea in the sitting room.
I nod toward my office as I walk back down the hallway and wait for her to enter.
“Sir?” she says as she stands in front of my desk. I motion for her to take a seat and she does.
“I have a charity event this weekend—tomorrow night actually. It’s a benefit for music and fine art education programs in inner-city and underfunded schools.” I see her eyebrows raise. I stand up and nervously walk to the window.
“I was hoping you would accompany me to the event.”
“Me? Uh, I don’t really have anything—is it fancy?”
“It is, black tie, but that’s not an issue if you do say yes.” I sit back down behind my desk as she perches on the very edge of her seat. “There’s a woman, Marsha Brixton over at Saks. She’s already been informed and she will help you pick out a dress and shoes, whatever you need. Phil will take you tomorrow morning and Eleanor will already be at her grandmother’s so you don’t need to worry about that.”
I can see her trying to process all this information.
“You would be a great asset at an event like this. I really think it would make a difference for these out-of-touch billionaires to speak to an educator, someone who works with these kids and can tell them how important these programs are.”
I lean back in my chair and she nods her head slowly before smiling.
“That’s very generous of you to invite me and to have enough faith in me to convince the elite rich that this cause is worthy of their money.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Yes, yes, I will,” she says with a smile.
“Great. I’ve also arranged for you to stop by Cartier. They’ll have jewelry you can borrow. Don’t worry, I’m not buying; it’ll just be on loan for the evening.”
“Oh, wow, that’s scary,” she says, bringing her hand up to her chest.
“Thank you for agreeing to attend, Miss Silver, and my apologies for the short notice. We’ll leave here tomorrow evening at five p.m.”
I’m not going to say that I counted down the minutes and hours till I was able to knock on Miss Silver’s door and see what she picked out to wear tonight, but it’s the only thing I’ve managed to focus on for the last twenty-four hours.
Eleanor is spending the night at my mother’s house so I won’t have to worry about getting Margot home at a reasonable hour to tuck her in.
I stop in front of one of the large mirrors in the hallway and double-check my bow tie is on straight and my cuff links aren’t askew.
I knock on Margot’s door at the same moment she pulls it open.
“Oh! Am I late? I’m sorry. I was just heading downstairs to meet you.”
I step back, trying not to be obvious about checking her out. The dress she chose is breathtaking. It’s a crimson strapless gown that tastefully accentuates her décolletage and slender collarbones. The silken material glides over her narrow waist and slight curve of her hip. I have to stop myself from reaching out and running a hand along her sexy silhouette.
“Not at all. I’m here to pick you up for our date.”
“It’s a date?” She grips her small clutch in her hand as she squeaks the words out and I chuckle.
I lean in, brushing a soft curl off her shoulder. “I asked you to attend with me, didn’t I?”
She nods and I offer my arm. She stares at me, blinking.