Page 33 of Keeping Denver

"Because I knew you'd be nervous." He grins. "Come on." Callan steps out of the limo when the driver opens the door. The cameras start flashing and people begin shouting, "Mr. Hawk, over here!"

This is insane. How has this become my life? I feel like a fish out of water—an imposter. Calming my nerves, I take a deep breath. Taking the hand Callan has held out for me and allow him to help me from the car.

"Who's your date, Mr. Hawk?" another photographer shouts.

Keeping my hand in his, we ignore the flashing lights and photographers as Callan leads us inside. According to my google search weeks ago, I knew Callan was a big deal and very well known, but I wasn't at all prepared for this. "That was a bit overwhelming. Do you ever get used to it?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But they're not as bad as they were right after my father passed away, and I sold his company. At one point it was a struggle leaving my home at all. Now, they mostly show up at events like this one to catch a glimpse of who's showing up with who. The gossip rags don't care about tonight's cause. They only care about getting their money shot, and the hopes one of tonight's A-listers will get drunk and show out."

"Does that sort of thing happen at these kinds of events?"

"Celebrities getting wasted?" Callan shrugs. "Sometimes. It's never happened at one of Spencer's events. He runs a tight ship and has staff on hand to handle anything, or anyone that may get out of hand. He won't allow any bad press to taint his work. Spencer takes what he does very seriously."

Walking hand in hand into the grand ballroom, my eyes scan the massive space lit in a romantic amber glow, and begin to feel overwhelmed as I take in at least two hundred guests in attendance.

"Relax, baby," Callan whispers into my ear.

"I feel so out of place. Like a fraud amongst all these elegant and posh people."

Callan lets go of my hand and snakes his arm around my waist. "Don't let their faces fool you. None of them are half as good as you are. You're more authentic than they will ever be." Callan presses his lips to my temple. "You're by my side, exactly where I want you to be and where you belong." Callan gazes down at me. The truth in his words shows on his face. "Come on. Let's get some Champagne."

Keeping to the edge of the crowd, we make our way to the bar, where Callan orders two drinks. "One Champagne and a glass of scotch, please."

"Callan, Denver. I'm glad the two of you could make it." At the sound of Spencer's voice, both Callan and I turn. The smile on my face diminishes the instant I notice who is on his arm. Kelly is pressed against Spencer, wearing a short black satin number, that has more of a night club vibe than an upscale charity feel. She gives me her usual bitch face, and I avoid looking at her, trying to pretend she doesn't exist. "Denver," Spencer calls my name, drawing my attention. "You look fucking radiant." He breaks away from Kelly and kisses my cheek.

I smile. "Thanks, Spencer."

Spencer gives me a wink, his action pissing off his date. "You are one lucky son of a bitch, Callan." He slaps his friend on the shoulder, and Callan pulls me into his side.

"I know. Now, if you don't mind, would you stop eye-fucking my woman?"

Spencer throws his head back and laughs, clearly getting a kick out of messing with his friend. Kelly, however, is not as amused.

"Spencer, darling. I want a drink." Kelly tugs on Spencer's arm to gain his attention.

His smile disappears as he turns toward her, speaking in a clipped tone. "Why don't you head on over to the bar and wait for me?"

Huffing, Kelly pinches her lips together, and cuts her eyes at me, before scuttling off in the direction of the bar. My dislike for the woman must be showing all over my face because Spencer chuckles. "Not a fan of my date?"

"You could do better," I mutter under my breath without thinking. Luckily Spencer doesn't take offense.

"Thought you had cut Kelly loose weeks ago?" Callan asks his best friend.

Spencer sighs. "Yeah, me too." He rubs the back of his neck. "Her ass showed up tonight. I would have tossed her out but didn't want to cause a scene."

The sound of Kelly's giggle from across the room draws our attention. The three of us look toward the bar to see her leaning over the counter while chatting with the bartender, her boobs on the verge of popping out. Spencer signals for a man standing by the front entrance, and faces us, "Let me go take care of her. I'll catch you two later."

Throughout the night, Callan introduces me to multiple contributors, some of whom were very pleasant. Now, sitting at the table, along with Spencer, Frances, and her Richard; all my worries, and nervousness are all but forgotten, as we laugh and enjoy the delicious food served a short time ago. Placing my napkin on the table, I lean into Callan. "I'm going to the ladies' room before Spencer makes his speech."

"You want me to go with you?"

I shake my head, laughing. "I can make my own way. You stay and finish your meal."

"Would you like another Champagne?"

Pushing my chair from the table, I stand with my clutch in hand. "No, thank you. I think I've had enough. Maybe just water." I smile down at Callan, his stare giving me butterflies in my stomach.

"You got it, baby."