“What about the fundraising?” I ask. Attending a black tie event like this can’t be cheap. “Who pays for that?”

“The fee comes out of my pockets. I believe in the cause and I’m happy to support it.”

Oh, so Richard has a Good-Samaritan side, too. Not fair. “That’s very generous of you. When do we leave?”

“Friday, mid-afternoon. With the time change, we should get to California in time for dinner.”

Dinner? You and me alone? My palms get sweaty.

“Is Chevron going to be okay?” Richard asks. “Can you leave her with someone? Or I could ask Michelle if she can board her.”

“No, no. It’s fine. My roommate will take care of her.”

“Great. You can go home Friday at lunch, get Chevron settled, and meet me at the airport.”

“Sure.”

“Please ask Indira to sort the tickets and hotel. The gala is Saturday night; we can fly back Sunday on whatever flight costs less.”

“Perfect. I’ll sort everything with Indira.” I get up to exit his office.

“Ah, Blair…”

“Mmm?”

“Not that I need to say it, but the dress code is formal. Bring a gown.”

“And here I was thinking of borrowing one of Saffron’s T-shirts.”

Richard smiles and waves me out of his office.

I sit at my desk, unable to wipe a little satisfied smile from my lips. An entire weekend alone with Richard. A two-night stay in the same hotel, dinner, and a gala. It means nothing. No, but still. We could walk along the Santa Monica pier at sunset, and we’re going to a Hollywood ball together. Anything could happen…

“What are you daydreaming about?” Indira says from beside me.

“Nothing.” Despite myself, I blush. Busted.

“So what did the boss want?”

“Oh, right. There’s a charity event this Saturday in LA, with celebrities and everything. Richard wants me to do a fashion-slash-gossip report and asked if you could book our tickets and hotel.”

Indira scrutinizes me for a long moment. “What did I tell you on your first day here?”

I stare at my sweatshirt and grab the hem. “I thought you liked this outfit, isn’t it casual enough?”

“Wrong one. You’ve nailed the ‘dress more casually.’ It’s the ‘don’t fall for the boss’ you’re having issues with.”

“I-I haven’t… you don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” I stutter.

“Yeah, right. Should I book adjoining rooms?” She flashes me an evil grin.

I crumple up a sheet of paper and throw it at her. “You’re wicked.”

The ball rolls off Indira’s desk, and Chevron promptly chases after it.

Indira shakes her head. “And you’re in so much trouble, girl.”

***

When I get home that night, Nikki is already back from her trip upstate.

“Oh, see… the dog is still living here,” Nikki says and makes jazz hands. “Surprise.”