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It took me a second to respond. “I didn’t realize I’d mentioned Derek to you.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” she said. “I read that online. That you share a child with your ex-wife. Sorry about that, by the way. Breakups are hard, whether you’re married or not.”
“It’s okay.” I gave her the same response she’d given me. “I’m happier now.”
A lot happier.
Eight
Cleo
I entered his apartment, wearing a red cocktail dress with a single strap over the shoulder along with a pair of black heels. My clutch was with me, black and covered with just a hint of glitter. I wore my mother’s diamond earrings and her bracelet. I wished I could wear my father’s watch, but it simply wouldn’t look right. I’d thought about taking it apart and turning it into something else, but I couldn’t bring myself to dismantle it. “I’m here.”
Deacon’s footsteps sounded as he came down the hallway. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a cleanly shaved jaw, he looked like a hot piece of man. His expensive watch was on his wrist, his shoes were Armani, and his sexy body filled out that suit better than any mannequin ever could. “Hey, baby.” His eyes lit up as he looked at me, like he was suddenly in a good mood because I was there.
I lived for moments like these, when he made me feel special with no effort at all. “You look handsome.”
His arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me in for a kiss, getting my lipstick on his mouth without caring. His hands slid to my ass and squeezed it before he rubbed his nose against mine. “You’re the one who looks like fire.” He moved to the door and walked out. I handed him a tissue to wipe off my lipstick.
Once we were on the other side of the door, the affection was gone, and we walked a few feet apart.
But it felt like a mile.
We reached the lobby and got into the back seat of the car.
Ironically, the dinner was being held in the ballroom of the hotel where Tucker worked.
“Don’t put your hands on the wall,” Deacon said from his side of the car.
“Why?” I asked, both eyebrows raised.
“Because Tucker told me he and Pria sneak into the ballroom on their breaks…”
I laughed. “That’s not surprising.”
“I guess they do it up against the wall.”
“Well, that’s a nice way to spend fifteen minutes.”
The car arrived at the hotel, and we walked inside.
“Anything I should know about your colleagues?”
He shook his head. “I like them all. They’re easy to talk to.”
“Then why did you bring me?”
He stopped in the entryway and looked down at me, like he genuinely didn’t understand the question. “I brought you because everyone is bringing their significant other…and you’re my very significant other.” He seemed a bit annoyed by the question, outright offended.
“Deacon, that’s not what I meant.”
“It seemed like it.”
“I just mean, you usually ask me to these things to help you with people. That’s all I meant.”
He sheathed his anger, but a little bit of hostility lingered.
A waiter arrived and brought us champagne in flutes.
Deacon declined a glass but gave one to me.
“You don’t like champagne?”
He shook his head. “Too bubbly.” He stepped farther into the room, keeping his hands in his pockets while I walked by his side, like he was doing it on purpose so he wouldn’t touch me. Soon, two men walked up, several decades older.
“Dr. Hamilton.” One shook his hand. “How are you?”
“Well.” Deacon shook his hand. “This is Cleo.” He hesitated before he introduced me, like he didn’t know what to say. “My friend…”
I stepped in and shook his hand. “I’m his personal assistant. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Deacon recovered. “This is my colleague, Dr. Watson. He specializes in antiviral drugs.”
“How interesting,” I said, even though I didn’t know what that was.
Another man shook his hand. “Quite an event you put on, Dr. Hamilton. My wife loves the centerpieces.”
“Thank you,” Deacon responded. “But I can’t take the credit. Theresa did it all.” He turned to me. “Dr. Thompson, this is my assistant, Cleo.” He introduced me the way I introduced myself.
He shook my hand. “Lovely to meet you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
Since Deacon knew everyone there, he spent a lot of time mingling when he would normally dodge people and rush to his table. He was definitely more relaxed with his colleagues, and there were a lot of long-winded conversations about the stuff they were working on, which left me clueless.
I grabbed his empty glass. “Another beer?”
He was in the middle of a conversation, so he just gave me a nod and kept talking.
I walked to the bar and ordered him another and got a beer for myself. A lot of the people were already at the tables, talking to one another or their spouses. The centerpieces were tall and beautiful, the chandeliers gorgeous, and people walked down the line and bid on the items at the silent auction.
