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“Are you all right?” he whispers as we begin walking toward our table.
“Fine,” I reply, but I’m anything but as I see the head of almost every woman in the room turn to look at Dixon.
Women of every age group are currently checking him out, some a little more discreetly than others, but overall, I have a room full of Rebeccas I now have to fight off.
The server stops at a table near the front, and as Dixon pulls out a seat for me, I know I’m the envy of the room. Ignoring their scowls, I take a seat and shakily reach for my glass of water when Rebecca sits next to Dixon.
I eye the bottles of wine in the middle of the table, wondering if it would be considered rude to make a dive for them and get into the booze early. But looking around the room and seeingthe jealous stares of every beautiful woman present, I ignore etiquette and reach for a bottle of red.
“Here, let me,” Dixon offers, his fingers overlapping mine, beating me to it.
I pull back, my flesh singeing, but try not to make a big deal over it, and smile.
As I down my entire glass, I can feel Dixon watching me, but I ignore him and distract myself by looking around the room. The people here are powerful and important, and I wonder what they did to get to where they are. I have no doubt some worked hard, but others, I wonder who they slept with or who they stabbed in the back to become the influential players that they are.
Two couples take a seat at our table, and thankfully, the ladies are old enough to be Dixon’s grandmothers and smile politely when introductions are made. From what I can see, these people are very high up in rank, and all men, minus Dixon, are on the psychiatric board. But that might soon change because by the way they’re zoning in on Dixon, they are very interested in what he has to say.
“So Dixon, Chad tells me you’ve got some interesting material for us to read over,” says Fletcher, the older gentleman with salt and pepper hair.
Dixon coolly smiles, reaching for his wine. “Well, Chad is really too kind. But I would be absolutely honored for you to read over my work and to hear your thoughts.”
“You will be amazed,” Chad says in confirmation. “His findings are true brilliance, and although a little unorthodox, his reasoning is totally justifiable.”
Dixon appears completely unruffled by the table singing his praises, but as he lays a hand on my knee and squeezes lightly, I know he’s squirming in his seat in excitement. I look over at him and smile, and he returns the gesture, beaming from ear to ear.
Halfway through our main meal, I’m certain I’m about to gag on my lamb as the hundredth woman for the evening comes to our table to talk to Dixon. This has been going on for the past hour and a half, and up until now, I’ve tried my best to remain calm, but now I’ve had enough.
Dixon is either oblivious or blind to their deliberate flirting, but I most certainly am not. Their lingering or unnecessary touches have not gone unnoticed by me, and Rebecca seems like a puppy dog compared to these vultures.
Dixon has introduced me to everyone, but he has failed to mention I’m his “girlfriend,” leaving who I am open to interpretation. Rebecca has picked up on this fact and decides now is a good time to address why that is.
“Madison, how long have you and Dixon been together?” she innocently asks, but I know there is nothing innocent about her question.
I shuffle in my seat, my eyes flicking to Dixon, who pauses talking to the bouncy blonde by his side. I bite my lip and realize we really should have worked out a credible story before we went ahead and pretended to be lovers.
“Um…” I reply, appearing as if I’m calculating the time in my head.
But Dixon stills my hands, which are twisting in my lap. “Six months,” he replies, turning to look at Rebecca.
“How did you meet?”
Dixon takes a small breath, a smile overtaking his beautiful features. “Some ape was hassling her, so I sent him on his way.”
“You mean you scared the living daylights out of him,” I add, remembering how frightened Tim looked when confronted by a bad-ass Dixon.
The table chuckles, bar Rebecca, and Dixon grins as he addresses the table. “What can I say; he had his hands on the woman I wanted. From the moment I saw her, I knew there was something special about her. I would do almost anything to get to know her, and once I did, I fell deeper and deeper under her spell.”
A breath catches in my throat, but I try to remain composed as Dixon continues.
“But it wasn’t smooth sailing; I mean, like a typical male, I screwed things up to astronomical levels.” He lightly squeezes my hand as the table laughs in unison. “I know she has her own demons to deal with, but here she is,” he says, turning to me, his eyes glowing with pride. “Sitting by my side, supporting me unlike anyone has ever done for me before. She is my angel because every minute spent with her is truly a blessing, and one I never want to end. I’m so lucky to have met you, Madison. You give me the strength to want to be a better man,” he says, no longer addressing the table, but only me.
My eyes begin to water, but I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the tears. “I’m the lucky one, Dixon,” I say in a mere whisper. “And you already are a better man. You’re the only man I want,” I add, meaning every single word, and the table coos.
Dixon smiles, and he leans forward, brushing away a runaway tear. “Good, ’cause you’re the only woman I want,angelo.”
We’re no longer in a room full of people. It’s only Dixon and me, and as he returns my gaze, I realize something I’ve been trying to avoid for a very long time. I’m falling head over heels for Dr. Mathews. I don’t throw the word “love” around loosely, but with Dixon, this feels something like it. The connection between us was instant, and no matter how hard I try to fight it, it only seems to get stronger and stronger.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real treat for you this evening,” the emcee announces. “Please welcome to the stage, the brilliant and well-loved genius, Dr. Maxwell Wellington.”
