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God, I loved this man.
We were speaking to two women who ran a nonprofit that helped the unhoused in Denver.
Elliot slid his palm up to my shoulder. “Catherine was the project manager for a charity that builds houses in impoverished areas of the world. Fair housing is a topic she’s passionate about.”
He winked at me, and I knew he was thinking about me being arrested for protesting my father’s business practices. This man of mine got a kick out of being with a criminal.
I was drawn into the conversation with the women and shared my experience in Mexico and Costa Rica. While I was speaking with them, Elliot signaled he had to go talk to someone else for a moment.
He stayed in my eyeline and kept me in his. Although I was comfortable where I was, it was beyond nice to know he hadn’t forgotten who he was with, even while conversing with other people.
Then, before I knew what was happening, Elliot was at the front of the crowd, a mic in his hand. He’d mentioned he would be speaking for a minute or two tonight, but I’d lost track of time, so the sound of his voice rising above everyone else’s took me by surprise.
I wove through to the front as he thanked everyone for being here tonight and named the people who’d been in charge of bringing this building to life. It was incredibly thoughtful of him to give credit so publicly, but that was Elliot. Always considering the best move.
“There’s one more thing we have to do to give this building its official beginning.” Elliot moved next to the stand, which was covered with a black cloth. “As many of you know, when I finish a project, the last thing I do is stamp it with a new name. Sometimes, it’s easy for me to think of what to call my buildings. Other times, I have to rack my brain or ask for help. This time, it was the former. I’ve known what this building would be called for months. And now, it’s my honor to share the new name with you.”
Carefully, he pulled back the black cloth, revealing a silver plaque with the building’s name emblazoned on it.
Alcott Tower
Oh, this man…the things he did to me.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. In his own roundabout way, he’d named this beautiful building in honor of me and Joey-Girl since Louise May Alcott had written my favorite book,Little Women. I would have hated to see my own name, or Joey’s up there, and of course Elliot understood that. This was perfect. Just perfect.
Elliot was watching me with warmth, the corners of his mouth pulled up. I smiled back, mouthing, “I love you,” which he returned.
He explained to the gathered crowd that he’d named this building selfishly. “When I pass byAlcott Tower, I’ll always smile. In fact, I may detour this way daily, so if you see me driving past, you’ll know why.”
Without another word, he walked straight to me and took my hands in his. “What do you think?”
“Lovely,” I rasped. “Thank you.”
He stepped closer, dipping his chin. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It kills me when you cry.”
“They’re happy tears, I promise. This is just so incredibly thoughtful and special.” I pulled my hand from his to pat my damp cheek. “Do I have mascara running all over me?”
He cocked his head, lips rolled over his teeth. He didn’t want to tell me, and that was enough for me to know I looked awful. “It isn’t so bad.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I don’t believe you. I’m going to the restroom to fix my face.”
He walked me to the hallway leading to the restrooms and kissed me before letting me go. I was certain he would have stood there had one of his security team members not been trying to get his attention.
I giggled at his disgruntled expression. “It’s okay, Elliot. Go talk to them. I’ll be fine for a minute.”
His eyes darted back and forth between mine, checking me over himself. “I’ll wait for you near the bar. Come find me when you’re done.”
“See you soon.”
No more tears. I’d done enough crying lately. The rest of the night was going to be all smiles.
Chapter Forty-two
Catherine
I’dbeenmoreofa wreck than I’d suspected. It had taken me several minutes to clean up the black tear tracks from my cheeks. Once I was good as new and there was no chance of more tears, I left the restroom, eager to find Elliot. Hopefully, he was finished with security. I didn’t think I’d properly thanked him for the name of the building. Then again, the way I wanted to thank him was better left behind doors.
My dress swished around my legs as I strode down the hall. The clinking of glasses and din of conversation swirling with the music from the string quartet grew louder with each step, but as soon as I reached the mouth of the hallway, a man stepped in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks.
