The dress is magnificent. Hunter green satin with a matching lace overlay falls from a boat neck cut that accentuates my collar bones. The bodice is tight without being restrictive and the skirt is long and tight, but with a slit up to my thigh. It's classy and sexy, and of course, it fits perfectly. I wonder what Christopher told his secretary to get the measurements so correct. “You look lovely,” Dad says, walking into the living room. It's almost five and I'm trying to wait patiently by the door without actually looking like I'm waiting. Despite wearing an evening gown, I've tidied up the living room and unloaded the dishwasher. If I wasn't afraid of splashing water on my dress, I'd do the dishes in the sink and scrub it too. “Thank you,” I tell my dad, smiling at the compliment. “Here, let me fix your hair.” Dad comes over and carefully smooths a strand of hair away from my face. He smiles as he steps back and looks me over. “You've grown so much. Your mother would be so prou

“Here we are. It's not much, but it's home,” Christopher says, holding open the door to his penthouse suite. It's a stunning penthouse suite with iconic views of New York that is anything but “not much.” The furniture is white and modern and there's art on the wall that I'm sure are original pieces and each one worth more than I paid for my college education. There's also a grand piano. “Christopher, this is a museum-worthy piece of art that happens to be on top of a building,” I tell him, standing in awe in front of the giant window that looks out over the twinkling city lights. From up here, it looks almost calm and peaceful. “That's just because you haven't seen other people's,” he tells me, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne and pops the cork. I look around. I can't imagine how something could be more opulent than this. I suppose it could be bigger. More rooms or maybe painted with gold. The view alone has to be worth millions. It's

I pull away. I don't know why I do it. I should want to kiss Jonathan. I've always wanted to kiss him. I've dreamed of kissing Jonathan. Yet, I fumble back, pulling my hand out of his reach and rising to my feet. I don't kiss Jonathan Lewis despite my years of longing. Teenage me would be furious with current me. I cross the room and stand by the bookcase, my heart pounding in my chest. I feel like I might be sick. What am I doing? Dad walks in with a sandwich and I'm even more glad I didn't kiss him. The last thing I need is for my dad to see me kissing Jonathan while Christopher isn't wearing the tux he left in. My hair is a mess and I'm sure I don't look like I came from a ball. I look like I came from bed. Jonathan smiles at my dad as he hands him the sandwich. “You always make the best sandwiches,” Jonathan tells him. “Thank you, sir,” Dad replies with a small smile. I see his shoulders straighten just a little bit with the compliment, though. The effect is spoiled by the

“Jonathan! Jonathan, are you okay!?” Deborah rushes into the room, her silk scarf trailing after her like a streamer. She rushes past me, nearly knocking me over even though I'm already sitting down on the floor. She gets to her son, and puts her hands on his cheeks, inspecting him for damage. “I'm fine, Mom,” he tells her with a chuckle. “You nearly took out Nora.” “Nora?” Deborah looks back at me surprised. “I'm sorry, dear. I didn't see you.” “It's fine,” I tell her. I am the butler's daughter after all. I'm not meant to be seen. “I am going to stay up all night with you,” Deborah tells Jonathan. “Dr. Wrigley told me exactly what I need to do.” “I guess you're off the hook, Nora,” Jonathan says to me. “You just don't want to lose another game of chess to me,” I tease him. I won the game just before Deborah came home, but only barely. Jonathan has a keen mind and is good at strategy. He'd be so good at business if he decided to help his older brother out. Jonathan laughs. “

I finish running my errands and window shop a little more as I work my way through the city until it's suddenly two o'clock and time for me to meet with Christopher. I can't wait to see him. My heart is bursting with love. I ride up in a silver elevator to Christopher's floor. I'm always amazed at how beautiful a concrete and glass building can be. It's not as pretty as a mountain or the ocean, but it's still magnificent and grand in its own way. I'm a little late, but not so much that I feel the need to call ahead. Besides, we said two-ish, so I'm in the clear. I check in with his secretary and she buzzes me into his office. Christopher's office is immense. It's bigger than any apartment I've ever lived in. There's a full marble bathroom complete with shower and fancy toilet. My father tells me that there's a pull-out bed in the sofa on the far side of the room. There's also a closet full of clothes. Theoretically, Christopher could live in this office and never have to leave as l