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I put my phone on speakerphone when the background music began and set it on the desk. A few minutes later, the line disconnected. Then my phone rang. I answered immediately.
"Dominic?" Reese sounded incredulous.
I took the phone off speakerphone, putting it to my ear. “Hello, Reese.”
"I was shocked when they told me it was you. Why would you even go through reception?"
"It was the only contact information I could find. I think your number is more guarded than the president's."
She laughed, and I wondered what Reese was like when she wasn't stressed out from having her ex hovering around.
"Yes, we do make it hard to reach us. So, why are you calling? Oh my God, I forgot. I offered to pay for your dry cleaning yesterday."
It took me a few seconds to remember what she was talking about. "Don't worry about it. It's taken care of."
"I feel guilty about it."
"Forget about it." My tone was almost cutting.
"All right, so then why are you calling?"
That was a good question. Why had I gone through all the trouble of getting to her?
"I want to talk to you about the charity weekend."
"Really? Because I'm just trying to forget it's coming up."
I rose from my chair, leaning against the desk and glancing out the window at the Miracle Mile. "Someone from my PR team will show up instead of me.”
"I figured that. You mentioned you wouldn’t go." She sounded confused. "There's no rule saying you can't have someone attend in your place."
"Then why aren't you doing that too? I get that it’s all for a good cause, but if you send a PR person, you’re still contributing."
She sighed. "The organizers say I have a knack for making people part with their money. And, well, why not use my skill for a good cause?"
Reese Maxwell was a fighter.
"Listen, I have an idea. Why don't I show up for the weekend, too, and we can continue the ruse every time your shithead of an ex is around." Yet another impulsive moment. It seemed to be a thing where Reese was concerned. It was frankly disconcerting.
"You're not serious," she said. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know. Seeing him talk to you like that rubbed me the wrong way."
"You don't even know me, Dominic."
The hesitancy in her voice challenged me. Suddenly, I really wanted this weekend with her.
"You can call me Dom."
"Dom, hmm? That sounds much better."
Fuck me. I liked the sound of my name coming out of her mouth.
"This is insane," she continued. "I mean, I’d obviously like to see Malcolm's face when he sees us together again, but what's in it for you?"
"Honestly, it'll help me too. The press, the women, people in general will get off my back if they think I'm seeing someone."
“But how will they know?”
