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Drake gave me this warm I'm smiling just-for-you smile. I felt a little flip in my gut in response to him.
"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself earlier," I said, my cheeks hot. "I was in kind of injured mode."
"Nice to finally meet Ethan's beloved daughter." He extended his hand. "Your father told me so much about you. I should have known it was you by your eyes, but I was in slightly caddish doctor with bad bedside manner mode and not my charming and gracious guest mode."
Our eyes met again as he kissed my knuckles and I felt a jolt of adrenaline surge through me at his kiss.
"I'll leave her with you then," Peter said and left the three of us. Then, Dave stepped forward as if trying to get in between us.
"So, Ms. Bennet, how have you been since our last meeting?"
"Mr. Mills," I said and turned to him when Drake let go of my hand. "I wouldn't have taken you for a fan of Miss Austen's work."
"Ah, but I studied Victorian Lit in college," Dave said. He extended his hand. "I've brains behind this beauty, in case you failed to notice."
"Oh, I noticed." I took his hand to shake.
"It didn't help my case." Dave kept my hand in his. "So tell me, Ms. McDermott, what would help my case?"
I succeeded in extracting my hand from Dave's.
"My father warned me about men like you, Mr. Mills," I said, thinking of Drake. "Suave. Charming. Devastatingly handsome…"
"Oh, that's riiight. Your father The Hangin' Judge… Does he keep a shotgun under his bed to keep away your suitors? I take it you only go for the nerds? The dorks? The ones who don’t have a clue what to say or how to treat a woman? Some of us do know."
"I don't know why I'd be of much interest to you," I said, trying to change the subject. "I'm looking for donations. Care to donate to Nigel's foundation?"
Dave smiled at me and we locked eyes for a moment as if in battle.
"Kate was with Nigel in West Africa during the famine," Dave said to Drake.
"I'm well aware of her work in Africa," Drake said to Dave, not taking his eyes off me. "The Judge talks about you a lot."
"He does?" I frowned, surprised that my father spoke of me at all, especially since my trip to Africa. It was usually Heath my father paraded around, his little clone.
"It was always, Katherine this and Katherine that. He's very proud but he's kept you pretty well hidden."
"I've been really busy with school and work…"
Drake nodded, watching me, his expression hard to categorize. Interested, surprised? I couldn’t tell which.
"Your father told me you got a job with Geist. What are you writing about now?" Drake said, his hands in his pockets.
Geist was an indie paper run by Columbia Journalism students. Another black mark against me. My father wanted me to use his connections with The New York Post instead but it just wasn't my kind of paper.
"Philanthropy in the age of social media."
Dave turned back to me. "Drake's foundation funds a number of hospital projects in West Africa if you're interested in philanthropy. I'm his manager of fundraising."
"Yes, that's what my father told me." I smiled again at Dave, unable to keep looking in Drake's oh-so-blue eyes. The idea he was a doctor just did something to me. Doctors knew their way around bodies… "I'm doing an article for Geist," I said, trying to divert my mind from Drake. "Maybe I could do an interview?"
Dave stepped closer to me, leaning in.
"I'd be only too happy to do an interview, Ms. McDermott. Your place or mine?"
I laughed uncomfortably at Dave's balls.
"I think she meant she wanted to interview me," Drake said.
