“Is that what you’re wearing for dinner?” A young, gorgeously tanned athlete sauntered into my office with a confident, lopsided grin on his face. His baby blue eyes sparkled at me and his lovely jet black hair gleamed in the filtered sunlight that streamed through my top floor glass windows. Under my desk, I pinched my inner thigh to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming again. My entire romance with Marco had been a whirlwind.
He was a professional soccer player I had met while trying to score his coach’s account for my company. At 24 years old he was eight years my senior. And he was drop dead gorgeous. He was six feet and four inches tall with God-like abs and a swanky attitude that made me feel like a little girl. Me, Andrea Pandeski, the owner and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company that I single-handedly built up from the ground. I was one of the most powerful women in the country if not the world, and all this boy had to do was open his mouth to turn me into a baffling baboon.
I pointed to the dress hanging on the back of the door he had just walked in. It was a designer gown in deep red with gold accents. I had fallen in love with it at a boutique in Paris and Marco had surprised me with it the next day after breakfast in bed, which he had prepared by a five-star chef who even traveled with him. Despite the money I had come into in my work, luxury was something I never afforded myself until I met Marco. It seemed frivolous and got in the way of my work. But Marco? He made me feel like a queen and I was slowly allowing myself to feel that way. He gave me a big grin and bent over my desk to kiss me.
“That’s perfect. I’ll have to change my tie to match. Be ready in thirty?” I nodded, though my stomach was twisted into several knots. We were meant to go to dinner with his parents that night.
It was partly an official engagement announcement but since he had already called them, it was more of a planning party. All of the essentials had been invited. His older brother and younger sister, his best man, and not a single one of my family members. That was fine by me. I had left them all across the country in Oregon. There was no chance of any of them flying out to New York just for a dinner. Unless I paid for it. My family had long ago given up on me. I was too different from them; ambitious, driven, rich. They didn’t seem to know how to interact with me anymore and I didn’t mind that at all.
I was, however, dreading the night with the Rubios. All of Marco’s family was gorgeous and poised and well-mannered. They had been in the money game for years while I had just clawed my way into it less than a decade ago. They had long, flowing black hair and tall, tan bodies. I was short and blonde with too many curves and muddy brown eyes. I was getting premature wrinkles from a stressful work life. Ever since I’d met them a few months ago at his birthday party, I’d felt like a leper in their pristine and perfect world. I just didn’t belong. Even Marco, who acted and spoke and walked like them, was little comfort. He didn’t seem to notice my differences which was both wonderful and daunting.
At the restaurant, we were the last to arrive. All of the familiar faces were there waiting for us. His brother and sister were first. A pale, wheezing Matteo had his face stuck in a hand-held video game that was clearly more interesting than Marco and I, but he did manage to murmur an annoyed, “Hey.” Maria, his sister next to him, was a young girl dressed sweetly in a puffy lilac dress with her curly hair flowing all the way down to her waist. She smiled politely at us before returning to her coloring book. Finally, we rounded the table to meet Alondra and Antonio. They too were polite but distracted. With me at least. With their crown prince returned home, they had quite a bit to discuss with him, clearly. I tried to ignore how obviously they were
He was a professional soccer player I had met while trying to score his coach’s account for my company. At 24 years old he was eight years my senior. And he was drop dead gorgeous. He was six feet and four inches tall with God-like abs and a swanky attitude that made me feel like a little girl. Me, Andrea Pandeski, the owner and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company that I single-handedly built up from the ground. I was one of the most powerful women in the country if not the world, and all this boy had to do was open his mouth to turn me into a baffling baboon.
I pointed to the dress hanging on the back of the door he had just walked in. It was a designer gown in deep red with gold accents. I had fallen in love with it at a boutique in Paris and Marco had surprised me with it the next day after breakfast in bed, which he had prepared by a five-star chef who even traveled with him. Despite the money I had come into in my work, luxury was something I never afforded myself until I met Marco. It seemed frivolous and got in the way of my work. But Marco? He made me feel like a queen and I was slowly allowing myself to feel that way. He gave me a big grin and bent over my desk to kiss me.
“That’s perfect. I’ll have to change my tie to match. Be ready in thirty?” I nodded, though my stomach was twisted into several knots. We were meant to go to dinner with his parents that night.
It was partly an official engagement announcement but since he had already called them, it was more of a planning party. All of the essentials had been invited. His older brother and younger sister, his best man, and not a single one of my family members. That was fine by me. I had left them all across the country in Oregon. There was no chance of any of them flying out to New York just for a dinner. Unless I paid for it. My family had long ago given up on me. I was too different from them; ambitious, driven, rich. They didn’t seem to know how to interact with me anymore and I didn’t mind that at all.
I was, however, dreading the night with the Rubios. All of Marco’s family was gorgeous and poised and well-mannered. They had been in the money game for years while I had just clawed my way into it less than a decade ago. They had long, flowing black hair and tall, tan bodies. I was short and blonde with too many curves and muddy brown eyes. I was getting premature wrinkles from a stressful work life. Ever since I’d met them a few months ago at his birthday party, I’d felt like a leper in their pristine and perfect world. I just didn’t belong. Even Marco, who acted and spoke and walked like them, was little comfort. He didn’t seem to notice my differences which was both wonderful and daunting.
At the restaurant, we were the last to arrive. All of the familiar faces were there waiting for us. His brother and sister were first. A pale, wheezing Matteo had his face stuck in a hand-held video game that was clearly more interesting than Marco and I, but he did manage to murmur an annoyed, “Hey.” Maria, his sister next to him, was a young girl dressed sweetly in a puffy lilac dress with her curly hair flowing all the way down to her waist. She smiled politely at us before returning to her coloring book. Finally, we rounded the table to meet Alondra and Antonio. They too were polite but distracted. With me at least. With their crown prince returned home, they had quite a bit to discuss with him, clearly. I tried to ignore how obviously they were
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