First contact
1502 Words
“There she is.”
Derrick looked toward the ballroom entrance again. Anne Wheeler stood beside Nora, one hand loosely around a champagne glass she clearly had no plans to drink. People moved around her constantly, but somehow she still looked separate from the room, like she was watching it instead of being part of it.
Gerald adjusted his cufflinks beside him. “You’re staring.”
“I’m assessing.”
“You’ve been assessing for thirty seconds. That’s basically staring with extra steps.”
Derrick ignored him.
Across the room, Anne said something to Nora that made her laugh, then looked over again. Straight at him. Sharp eyes. Too observant.
Derrick felt something uncomfortable settle in his chest. Interest. Annoying.
Gerald suddenly started walking.
“Where are you going?” Derrick asked.
“To introduce you.”
“That sounded threatening.”
“Good. It was supposed to.”
Gerald crossed the floor like a man with zero fear of consequences. Derrick followed, because apparently his life had become a poorly planned business strategy.
Nora spotted Gerald first. “Mr. Mensah.”
“Nora. Enjoying the evening?”
“Free food and rich people pretending to like each other? Best night of my month.”
Gerald laughed softly, then turned to Anne. “Anne Wheeler, correct?”
“Depends. Am I in trouble?”
“Not yet.”
That got the smallest reaction from Derrick. Anne noticed anyway.
Gerald gestured between them. “Anne, this is Derrick Cavell.”
Something inside her sharpened the second she heard the name. Not full recognition, just instinct, like her brain quietly filed it away before she fully understood why.
Anne held out her hand first. “Nice to meet you.”
Derrick shook it. Firm. Professional. But something about it felt strangely dangerous underneath, like they were both noticing way too much, way too fast.
“I expected someone louder,” Anne said.
“I expected someone less curious.”
“Why did you expect me at all?”
Gerald answered smoothly before Derrick could. “I may have mentioned you.”
Anne glanced at him. “Nora told me you work with consultants. She forgot to mention you study them like homework first.”
Nora pointed at herself. “Hey, I barely study my own life.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Rude.”
Gerald clapped his hands once. “Nora, come with me. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Nora blinked. “Me?”
“Yes.”
Anne narrowed her eyes. “That sounded suspicious.”
“Only slightly.”
Nora looked between Anne and Derrick, then grinned slowly. “Oh.”
Anne already hated that look. “Nora.”
“What? I’m leaving you with my boss, not a serial killer.”
“That’s a very low bar,” Derrick said flatly.
Nora laughed loudly. “See? He’s got jokes. You’ll be fine.”
“If I disappear,” Anne said, “tell the police I was overdressed against my will.”
“Noted.”
Gerald guided Nora away into the crowd before Anne could stop either of them.
Anne watched them go, then turned back to Derrick. “…That was on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“Usually.”
She finally took a sip of her champagne. “Do you always let older men plan your conversations for you?”
“Only at expensive parties.”
That almost got a smile out of her. Almost.
“You look suspicious,” she said, studying him.
“Excuse me?”
“You keep looking at me like I’m about to steal a spoon.”
“Only around consultants.”
Anne laughed before she could stop herself. “There it is.”
“What?”
“A personality. I was starting to worry.”
“I was told this was a professional event.”
“It is. Now I’m curious.”
“That sounds unsafe.”
“For who?”
Derrick looked at her one beat too long. Anne caught it instantly.
“You ask a lot of questions,” he said.
“You answer weird.”
“Maybe your questions are weird.”
“Maybe your face looks too suspicious.”
Derrick actually laughed at that one, short and real, which was, unfortunately, very attractive.
“There,” Anne said. “Human behavior. We’re making progress.”
“You’re very comfortable insulting people you just met.”
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
“Dramatic.”
“I’m learning from Nora.”
Anne smiled despite herself. Annoying.
Across the room, Nora watched them while pretending not to. A coworker leaned in. “They weirdly match.”
Nora’s smile dropped. “No they don’t.”
“They’re talking a lot.”
“Anne argues for fun. It’s her hobby.”
“That man never talks to anyone this long voluntarily.”
Nora glanced back at them, where Derrick was saying something quiet enough that Anne had leaned in to hear over the music. A weird little twist hit Nora’s chest. She pushed it down fast. Concern. Obviously. Nothing else.
Back near the balcony, Anne glanced toward Nora, then turned to Derrick. “Your employees seem scared of you.”
“They’re dramatic.”
“One woman dropped an entire tray when you walked by.”
“That happened once.”
“It happened tonight.”
“Bad timing.”
Anne shook her head. “You know what your problem is?”
“I’m about to find out either way.”
“You look too serious. Like a sad statue.”
“I attend meetings for a living.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“You run a consulting firm.”
“Yes, but I’m charming.”
Derrick stared at her, completely blank.
“Wow,” Anne said. “No reaction at all. Cold.”
“I’m processing the confidence.”
“You should be impressed.”
“Working on it.”
That almost-smile again. Small. Fast. Gone.
Derrick glanced toward the quiet balcony behind them, then back at her. “Walk with me.”
“That sounded either romantic or like a kidnapping.”
“Neither.”
“Somehow worse.”
She followed him anyway.
The balcony looked out over downtown Dallas, glowing under the night sky, traffic lights stretching for miles. Music from inside faded behind the closed doors. Cool air brushed against Anne’s skin.
Derrick rested a hand on the railing, looking, for the first time all night, a little unsure how to start. Interesting.
“You brought me out here for silence?” Anne asked.
“I’m thinking.”
“That sounds weird.”
Derrick ignored that. Then, finally, “I want to propose something.”
Anne blinked. “That sentence usually comes with candles and a ring, not a balcony and bad lighting.”
“Not that kind of proposal.”
“Good. We just met. This would’ve been a very weird night.”
Derrick exhaled, somewhere between amused and out of patience.
“It’s a business arrangement,” he said.
Anne leaned against the railing, studying him. “What kind of arrangement?”
“A strategic marriage.”
Silence. Wind moved across the balcony. Somewhere inside, people laughed at something neither of them cared about.
Anne stared at him. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“You asked what kind.”
“And you answered like a robot reading a contract out loud.”
“It would be contractual.”
“Oh good. Much less weird now.”
“You’d benefit financially.”
Anne folded her arms. “And you?”
“I benefit structurally.”
She stared at him for two full seconds. “That might be the least romantic sentence ever spoken by a human being.”
“Good,” Derrick said. “It wasn’t meant to be romantic.”
Anne let out a short laugh, somewhere between disbelief and shock. This man was completely insane and completely serious about it, which somehow made it funnier.
“Do you ask women to marry you a lot?”
“No.”
“Thank goodness.”
“It solves problems for both of us.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
There it was again, that strange phrasing, like she was a puzzle he’d already started solving before tonight.
“You planned this before tonight,” Anne said slowly.
Derrick didn’t answer right away, which was answer enough.
Anne laughed in disbelief. “Wow.”
“It’s practical.”
“No, Derrick. Tax forms are practical. This is just weird.”
“You haven’t said no.”
“Because I’m still trying to figure out why this is even happening.”
Derrick held her gaze steadily.
Anne looked at him a moment longer, then finally asked, quiet now, “…Why me?“
- Writer
