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She’d needed me, and I wasn’t there. I’d been so angry at her for shutting me out, and it was so obvious to me right now that I’d let her.
The Gala was held at the convention center. I’d been to it last year and knew what to expect. The best that money could offer. Business tycoons, old money families, and celebrities vying for attention. Half probably didn’t even know that the event was raising money for breast cancer. The Holstein family chose a different charity every year, but the matriarch of the family passed away seven months ago from breast cancer. All the money in the world couldn’t have saved her.
The tickets to the gala alone were five grand. I’d bought mine two months ago with the intentions of taking Kim, but she’d barely spoken to me since Jillian had arrived. Auction prices for various prizes like resort vacations, cars, technology that hadn’t hit the market yet, started at a grand each, and as always, there was a tiny booth in the corner for people to open their wallets and make a charitable donation.
Last year, the gala was raising money for refugees overseas. They’d raised half a million dollars, although the cynic in me doubted that it did much good.
A select few from the Rosenburg Orchestra played in the corner. The center was open for dancers, but nobody came here to dance. There were a few artifacts that had never been seen before from some dig in Turkey, some pieces of artwork on display from prominent artists that hadn’t been viewed in galleries before, and of course, a few businesses taking the opportunity to talk about their plans for the rest of the year.
Few here cared about donating money or winning raffle prizes. They were here to make a statement.
It didn’t seem to matter to Jillian, or maybe she just didn’t know. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she walked in. The cold mask was gone, and I could read every emotion on her face.
I loved every minute of it.
“Hungry?” I asked softly as she practically licked her lips when a waitress walked by with a tray of food.
“Very, but I guess it’s not very proper to grab something to eat as soon as you walk into a party, is it?” She laughed.
“Sweetheart, I’m a rancher. Nobody expects proper from me.” I grabbed one of the small plates off the next tray that walked by and handed it to her. It was something ridiculous like shrimp on a cracker, but she practically moaned as she popped it in her mouth.
I wanted to hear her moan like that when I touched her.
“Brendan Ward. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Not after last year.” I turned to see Phil Roberts, the CEO of Roberts Automotive, walking toward me. Phil’s company made everything from tires and engines to fuzzy dice and new car scent sprays. “How are you?”
The man was twenty years my senior and often acted like he was a decade younger. He had his fair share of scandals, including bedding the sister of his wife, but I was fond of the guy. “Trying to expand my ranch,” I explained as I reached out and pumped his hand. “Gotta follow the money. Phil, this is my wife, Jillian.”
“Wife?” He took a step back in surprise but recovered quickly. “I’m surprised a marriage to you didn’t make the front pages. My dear, I don’t know whether to congratulate you or offer you my condolences. As it is, you are a stunning woman, and my home is open to you if you ever need a break from this cad.”
“Sounds like you’re the cad,” Jillian teased good-naturedly as she let him kiss her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Phil. What did my husband do at the event last year?”
“Blessed out this pompous idiot for refusing to donate money to the charity. Some young money dick who felt it was better to pay for his date’s plastic surgery than to donate to a worthy cause.” Phil grinned. “By god, it was worth it to see Brendan knock that kid out. I’m surprised you got invited again.”
“Probably a mistake,” I said lightly.
“No doubt. I don’t suppose you’re planning on entertaining us again this year? From the looks of things, it’s going to be a rather boring affair.”
My gaze shifted to the man approaching us, and I stiffened. Dennis Blackwell. “The night is still young,” I murmured. Jillian slipped her arm through mine and squeezed it in warning. I gave her a reassuring smile.
“Phil, I need to speak to someone. Do me a favor and show Jillian around? And keep your hands off her while you’re at it.”
“Brendan,” Jillian protested, but I gently pushed her toward Phil. I wasn’t sure if Dennis knew that Gordon had hired a private investigator or not, but I certainly didn’t want him to make a scene in front of her.
