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The words hit her full force. She’d received endless compliments from male admirers. Dates. The press. Her friends. Chloe had grown into her confidence, and knew her looks were striking with her dark hair and blue eyes. Being in the public eye made her work a bit harder to always seem flawless, though it was a complete façade. But the way Owen spoke was different. It was as if he not only acknowledged the physical, but also the core of who she was. She fought to reach out and touch him, slide her fingers into his and surrender. Instead, she blinked back the ridiculous sting of tears from his compliment and smiled.
“Thank you. You’re looking quite dapper yourself.”
He laughed. “For now. By mid-evening, I’ll probably have spilled something on myself.”
She laughed with him. He’d always been a bit clumsy, but to her, it was part of his charm. Secretly, she was glad he hadn’t outgrown it and turned into a polished, perfect suit like so many liked to portray. She preferred flaws in all their glory.
So far, she hadn’t discovered any of Drew’s. But maybe it was too early.
Chloe pushed the thought out of her mind and followed Owen to the car.
“Want to give me a rundown on anyone I need to dazzle?” he asked, easing into the crowded city streets.
“Marisol and Rob Thomas will be there, of course. They own Sidewalk Angels and donate to a variety of shelters—we received a hefty contribution last year, but hoping there will be a few investors who don’t know how we work. We need to grab their ear.”
“Got it. His music rocks. Any politicians?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, thank goodness.”
He laughed. “Come on, your dad is one of the good guys.”
“Yes, but many of them aren’t. I never realized how power is more attractive than money to some people. The more they get, the more they crave, and suddenly it’s all about what they can get out of an exchange. I give my dad credit that he fights for what he believes in, but I wouldn’t want to be part of that world. Alyssa is perfect for him.”
“Yes, I was happy to hear he got married again. Even happier when I knew you loved her as part of your family.”
She arched a brow. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “Harper told me. Sent me pics of the wedding. It was obvious from your smile.”
Chloe shifted in her seat. “I don’t know if I like the idea you’ve been keeping tabs on me from across the country. It’s weird.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to be a stalker. I just wanted to share a piece of your life and know you were okay.”
She was silent for a while, mulling over his words. “I can’t shift so quickly into believing you cared about me. I’ve spent too long convincing myself you were a cheating, lying asshole.”
A laugh boomed out and she relaxed back in the seat. “Fair enough. Right now, I’m grateful I get to spend another evening in your company. Even better, I get to watch you in action.”
They drove into Tribeca, pulled up to the valet, and she exited the car to a sea of flashbulbs. Damn, she’d hoped this was small enough not to warrant press, but it seemed they knew she’d attend. The pack descended, throwing questions out as she tried to move slowly, keeping her smile bright and not looking forced.
“Chloe—what’s your take on the governor’s decision to cut the budget for educational expenditures?”
“Chloe—why weren’t you involved in the protests for Green Farms? Several people were arrested—did you disagree with their stance on humane treatment for farm animals?”
“Chloe—what designer are you wearing tonight?”
“Chloe—are you still seeing Drew Dinkle? Is this your new date?”
The questions peppered like bullets, but she paused briefly, looking into the cameras with practiced poise. “I think you’d find the governor’s position on education has always been supportive. He’s not cutting the budget, he’s moving more to online resources to be able to serve the schools in a changing environment. Advocates for Animals has a long-standing commitment to the ethical treatment of farm animals and has already filed suit against Green Farms.” She smiled, tilting her head slightly toward the camera. “And I’m wearing one of my favorite designers, à la Marshalls, off the rack. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
She pivoted on her red heel and entered the doors, while the reporters kept calling out questions.
“Is it always like that?” he asked, his hand cupping her elbow as they climbed the carpeted staircase to the main dining room.
“Usually. It got worse after that awful magazine came out, naming me the Bachelorette of NYC. Ugh, who would’ve thought so many people read that trash?”
He cut her an admiring glance. “No man needs to read an article to know you’re the catch of the century, babe. I think it’s more than a miracle you’re still single.”
“What could be bigger than a miracle?” she quipped, moving toward the Tribeca Rooftop, where the gala was held.
