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But now, she absorbed the photos he had saved.
He had his arm around a woman with wisps of gray in her hair. It must be his mother. There was a picture of him and Cole. She stared at the collection of art museum shots. He had been to every impressive collection in the world. She couldn’t believe it.
Abby fought the burning interest in her belly. She had to get to the office. Today Deacon wasn’t a hot sexy man who might have a side she’d like to get to know. No, that couldn’t happen. Today, Deacon was the man who decided her fate. That was all that mattered.
10
Deacon
He took a look at the three leader portfolios in front of him. Deacon pushed away from his desk and walked to the bar to pour a drink. He filled the rocks glass with bourbon and leaned his heavy frame against the marble surface.
He knocked back the first swallow. If he chose Abby’s design, she would be free. He took another sip.
It was the last thing he or Cole wanted. Two weeks with her had changed him. He didn’t know how to admit it, or face it, but it was the fucking truth.
She had a smile that could bring him to his knees. She had a smart mouth that he wanted to kiss every morning and every night. Her voice. Her laugh. She had invaded every part of him when he wasn’t looking. The thought of letting her go was ludicrous.
But he had made a deal and he wasn’t going to break his word, even if it cost him the one thing he wanted more than anything.
The elevator in his office dinged. The doors retracted and Cole stepped inside.
“Have you made a decision yet?” he asked.
Deacon shook his head. “No. I haven’t even opened them.” He nodded at the presentations on his desk.
“You know Abby is a nervous wreck waiting on your answer.”
Deacon frowned. His brows almost touched with the scowl.
“I know. There’s a lot riding on this.”
“Which part? The foundation? Or Abby?”
Deacon exhaled. “Both. I don’t want to fuck up either.”
“It’s going to crush her if you don’t choose her design, man.”
“You don’t think I know that?” He shot a look at his best friend. “I want hers to be the one, just as much as I don’t.” He took a seat behind his desk. “This is the one time I wish I didn’t know a damn thing about art.”
“I could go through them if you like,” Cole offered.
“No.” He shook his head. “This is my fucking responsibility. She’s counting on me to get it right.”
“By right, do you mean granting her freedom?”
Deacon felt his scowl deepen. He clenched his fist. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I don’t want her to leave.”
“Neither do I.” Deacon glanced at the travel package on the corner of his desk. “Vegas is tomorrow. We’re unveiling the foundation. Soar needs me to do the right thing. And so does Abby. But I’ve been thinking about Vegas.”
“Yeah? What are your thoughts?” Cole shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I think it’s important that whoever our designer is, attends the event.” He smiled.
Cole grinned. “I think that’s part of the agreement with our artists, isn’t it?”
Deacon nodded. “Standard. Even if it means we take the smelly French guy with us.”
