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Meanwhile, Billy waves his empty glass at me. “Refill?” he mouths, like I’m the waitress.
I press my lips together, so I don’t tell him to fuck off. Still smirking, Billy gets up and heads to the bar.
“Brick Blackthroat!” An elegant older woman, possibly in her seventies, glides over with a broad smile on her face.
“Madison?” he murmurs.
“Eleanor Harrington, heiress to the Torrent Cosmetic company and well-known philanthropist,” I murmur back.
“How good to see you.” The older woman offers her hand to Blackthroat. The wealth of emerald and diamonds glittering at her ears, wrists and neck threaten to blind me. There are disco balls with less sparkle. “Please, introduce me to your date.”
“My assistant. This is Madison Evans. Madison…”
“Eleanor Harrington,” I finish for him. “How wonderful to meet you.”
The woman’s penciled brows shoot up. “Oh, goodness. You know me? I’m flattered, darling. So, you work for Brick?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an absolute honor.”
Blackthroat makes a slight snorting sound beside me.
She peers at me with interest. I can’t imagine what she finds so fascinating. Blackthroat made it clear that I’m not his date, just his assistant. “I’m sure you’re very talented if Moon Co. has snatched you up.”
“Oh, well…”
“She’s brilliant,” Blackthroat says firmly. Once again his hand has found its way to my lower back, and just like that, I’m his date, and not just an employee. I try not to love the feel of it too much.
“Where did you go to school, darling?”
“Princeton.”
It’s one thing to be treated like the help by the likes of Billy and Amanda. It’s another for a random guest to pay attention to me, especially an older socialite. She’s not interested in me because of my cleavage.
“You must be very bright. I’m sure Mr. Blackthroat is paying you well, but if you’re looking for a change, I could probably match it.” Eleanor hands me a card.
“Oh, um…” I stare at it dumbfounded then glance up at Blackthroat to see how he’s taking it.
After Ms. Harrington leaves, I ask, “Is that normal? To try and poach someone’s employee right in front of them?”
Blackthroat seems as puzzled as I am. His brows are down, his gaze still on the older woman’s back. He takes the card from me and brings it to his nose, which is bizarre. I take it back and sniff it, but there’s no perfume or other scent.
“Huh,” Blackthroat says.
“What is it? I feel like I’m missing something important here.”
Blackthroat looks thoughtful. “So do I,” he says, but offers no more, other than to take the card back from me and drop it in his pocket.
“Brick, I can squeeze your assistant in at a table in the corner–” Amanda pipes up.
“I want her at my table, Amanda. Beside me. Figure it out.”
“Of course, Brick.”
I want to throat punch her for calling him by his first name. I mean, where does she get off?
Apparently, Blackthroat also has had enough because he uses the hand at my back to propel me to the seat next to him. He plucks the place card and swaps it with the one across the way. It bears the label for William White, which I know isn’t going to go over well, but I sit, because my feet are killing me. Blackthroat settles beside me and pulls out the index cards his sister gave him.
“Do you need anything?” I ask after watching him for a few moments in silence.
