Loving Drake by Pamela Ann Page B

moment with him. Loving him. Living him.
    Drake was basically attached to his phone, responding to emails as my thoughts wandered to my own business while I ate the muffin. It wasn’t until we were a few minutes from the venue when Drake finally inserted his phone inside his breast pocket and spoke again.
    “Ready to party the night away?”
    My legs were tired and my brain was ready to shut down, yet I smiled at him anyway. “You bet.”
     

Dance With Me
     
    The evening started like a whirlwind, meeting and greeting people I barely remembered nor recognized. Though, when Drake glided us towards an older man leaning towards seventy, attached to a teenager at his side, it definitely got my full attention.
    “Mr. Fullerton, how are you doing this evening?” Drake firmly shook his hand, beaming amiably towards the striking duo.
    “I’m well,” he responded briefly before his eyes diverted towards me. “You must be themissus, I take it?” He looked friendly enough, but something about his tone—like he was surprised that I was the wife—somehow ticked off the wrong button.
    “I am; it’s a pleasure to meet you this evening.” I wanted to leave, find a waiter that was strolling around the room carrying bountiful champagne glasses, and enjoy the rest of the evening, however Drake seemed to be in no hurry to depart.
    “Lily, this is Mr. Fullerton’s daughter, Katie. She’ll be interning with me starting next week.”
    His daughter ? Right. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Ha.
    “Oh, that’s amazing. I worked with Drake before; he’s a fairly decent boss,” I said with a grin.
    The receiving end somehow looked forced. “I have no doubt that he’s more than decent.” She had a playful smirk on, her eyes vying for Drake alone.
    Okay. Time to exit this odd conversation. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the powder room.” Squeezing Drake’s arm, I gave them all a tight smile before I left, waiting to release the breath of relief when I was at a great distance.
    So the future intern had a little crush on my husband, but what had really set me off was how surprised they had seemed when they learned I was his wife. I knew I wasn’t a knockout; far from it. Compared to the other women Drake used to date, I was plain and boring. I should be used to getting that type of reaction from people he socialized with, yet I was not. I could hear them think, what did he see in her?
    I knew my husband loved me, but people judged at first glance, and I wasn’t leaving them with awe-inspiring praises. Drake seemed oblivious to it, though, and thank goodness for that. I didn’t want him defending me that way; I mean, how embarrassing would that be? Protecting his wife from people who thought she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t beautiful enough to suit him? Our bond was solid, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered, nothing more.
    My intention was to go to the powder room to check on my hair and make-up, basically regroup and think positively, but when one of those cream-tailored waiters passed me by, asking if I wanted one, I simply couldn’t help myself. I loved champagne.
    Sighing with relief after my first sip, I strolled towards the terrace that gazed towards the lavish, English-styled gardens.
    Nostalgic, I enjoyed small sips as I roamed about, descending the stone stairway that led towards the lush greenery, remembering that first encounter I’d had with Drake in the garden on our first night working together.
    The trees had blue LED lights wrapped around them, lending a cozy, intimate feel towards this nice, balmy night. Speakers strategically placed behind the bushes were playing soft, classic music, contrasting the large, circular water fountain with its cascading water as the background. Serenity was what I thought as I closed my eyes, smiling at the sense of calmness it gave me.
    Most people were still indoors, waiting for dinner, but I wanted to stay here awhile and enjoy this small gem I