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A weight pushes on my chest, snatching the breath from my lungs, causing my steps to falter.
Talia grips my bicep. “Hey, you okay? You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.” I roll my shoulders. “Couldn’t be better.”
We go for another spin around the dance floor when the music cuts. “Excuse me, folks.” Someone taps a mic and we all turn to find the CEO standing on the stage. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve been informed that as of ten minutes ago, we reached our annual fundraising target.”
The electric meter on the large screen behind her fills to the top and fireworks flash.
Blinding white shocks me as the stage light flips our way.
Fuck.
“All thanks to Mr. Brooks’s insanely generous donation this evening.” The room erupts into applause. Talia stills in my arms. “Not only will this cover utilities for a year, but it brings us closer to our dream of extending our downtown site.”
I quickly school my expression when the crowd moves in, patting me on the back and shaking my hand.
One of Talia’s colleagues walks over, who seems to have drunk a few too many glasses of table wine. “Smart move bringing Tate with you tonight.” He snorts. “It makes sense why he’s back on the scene.”
He stumbles away.
My jaw is tight with restraint, and as I risk a look at Talia, she squirms out of my hold and makes for the exit.
Double fuck.
“’Scuse me. Pardon me.” I wrangle my way through the wall of people as I follow her out. She doesn’t run, but I can tell by her ramrod-straight back something is off.
She makes it two steps into the corridor before I snatch up her wrist, stopping her. “Stop a minute.”
I can’t read her expression when she faces me. “I need the restroom. Can this wait?”
“No. It can’t.” I rub at my temple. “I asked them to keep my donation anonymous. This wasn’t me trying to show off or throw my money around. I genuinely wanted to help.”
Her frown furrows deeper. “You think I’m mad at you?”
“You’re not?”
“No! I’m mad at them.” She jabs toward the function room. “They were looking at you like a walking money bag. Did you hear that one guy ask you to pay for his kid’s tuition?” Releasing a frustrated growl from deep in her throat, she scrunches her eyes closed. “I didn’t invite you tonight because I thought you’d make a handsome donation.”
A warm sensation trickles through my chest. “Will you look at me?” She obliges me. “I know that’s not why you invited me. I donated because I can, for exactly the same reason I donate to multiple epilepsy charities. The comments back there aren’t new to me. People only want to get close to me because of what my name can bring them, not what I bring to the table. It can be lonely, and maybe that’s what I get, but I appreciate you getting riled up on my behalf.” I smooth the wrinkles between her brows. “You’re always cute when you get mad.”
Her lip trembles as she slaps my hand away. “You bring a lot to the table. It’s their loss for not seeing that.”
The door behind us opens and Eric walks out with his wife, Rebecca. “Hey, you two. Talia, you outdid yourself tonight.”
“It was incredible. We had a great time.” Rebecca loops her arm through her husband’s. “We’re headed upstairs to enjoy a child-free evening. What floor are you staying on?”
Talia blinks, unsure how to respond.
“We’re not staying this time,” I swiftly interject. “We’ve got plans first thing.”
Eric smiles. “Shame. Would’ve been nice to catch up over breakfast. There’s always next time. Good night.”
They amble toward the elevators, heads tucked in close.
When I turn back to Talia, she has a strand of hair wrapped tight around her finger, pulled free from her elegant hairstyle. “I shouldn’t have presumed you’re not staying. You deserve a night away after the event you pulled off.”
“I’m not staying. I was going to get a cab home if you want to share.” She jitters with nerves. It’s like we’re sixteen again, seconds away from bumping noses and clacking teeth before we kiss. “Or maybe you’re staying. It’s a nice hotel. Their sheets are probably nicer than the ones in the guest room.”
