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I whip my head back in Bethaney’s direction. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs with a sly grin. “I know you two are a thing. Or at the very least that you like each other.” She sips whatever pink liquid is in her glass.

I clear my throat and shift in place. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes. “It was obvious the first time I saw you guys together. I could’ve cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, Mr. Simons steps up and wraps his arm around Bethaney’s waist. “There you are, sweetheart. Thought I’d lost you.”

“No, just chatting with Andrew.”

Mr. Simons surveys the room. “You did good, babe. This place looks amazing. Way better than the usual stuffy affairs we always have. Am I right?” He looks at me with an arched brow.

“Definite improvement.” I nod.

Bethaney soaks in our praise, beaming. “Thanks, you two. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make the rounds. I want to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

“All right. Just make sure you save a dance for me.” He swats her ass, and she squeaks. To my surprise, Mr. Simons wraps his arm around my shoulders as he watches his fiancée walk away. “I want to thank you for finding that event planner to help Bethaney with this. I know she can be… overly enthusiastic at times, but this was important to her. She sees this as her coming out to all the employees at the firm and she wanted to do a good job. So thanks for your role in making that happen.”

I don’t know why the love I hear in his voice surprises me, but it does. I figured she was nothing more than a good time and a hot piece of arm candy for him, but it’s clear that she’s much more than that. He might love her.

“You’re welcome.”

He squeezes my shoulder and lets his arm drop. “That partner position is looking better and better for you, Wainwright.” Without another word, he walks off.

My pulse picks up and I have to bite back a whoop. Of course, I know nothing is set in stone, but having his endorsement is key to convincing the other partners that I’m the one who should make partner when Berns retires next year.

Rather than rush right over to Kenzie, which is what I want to do, I decide to detour to the bar. I see that she’s speaking to Bethaney anyway. They each have one of those pink drinks in hand and are smiling and clinking their glasses together.

I make some small talk on my way over to the bar, doing my damndest to avoid Darla. I despise having to talk to my assistant on a daily basis at work, and I certainly don’t want to do it at a social function. No such luck though. She corners me while I’m waiting for the bartender to make my drink.

“Hi, Andrew. I mean, Mr. Wainwright.”

I give her a small smile. “Hi, Darla. How are you this evening?” I don’t bother to turn toward her, hoping she’ll catch my hint.

“Great! Didn’t the party turn out amazing? Bethaney really outdid herself.”

I want to tell her that it had nothing to do with Bethaney and everything to do with Kenzie and her ability to steer Bethaney away from her asinine ideas, but instead I say, “Everything looks wonderful.”

The bartender slides my drink toward me and I throw a bill in the tip jar.

“What’d you get to drink?”

I wrap my hand around the cold glass. “Scotch on the rocks.”

“Oh, you should try one of the drinks Bethaney gave me. They’re so good. Doesn’t even taste like there’s alcohol in them.” She holds up a glass with the same pink liquid that Bethaney had earlier. “I forget what they’re called though, so I’m hoping the bartender will know.”

“Well, I’ll step aside and let you get to it then. It was good to see you.” I give her a nod and disappear into the crowd.

It’s much busier in the room than when I first arrived, and it takes my eyes a moment to locate Kenzie again. I need to go tell her how beautiful she looks. But when I spot her, my stomach sinks, followed shortly by my viselike grip on the glass in my hand.

She’s on the outskirts of the dance floor, chatting with Tom Harding—my biggest competition for partner. He’s clearly into her. It’s obvious from his body language and the way he’s leaning into her more than is polite when she speaks.

For her part, Kenzie would have no idea who he is, and more than that, she has a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes the way it does when she speaks with me.

That knowledge doesn’t stop the jealousy from flaring up inside me or my feet from moving in their direction. I push through the crowd, not stopping to talk to the handful of people who say hello until I reach them.

“Evening. What’s so funny?” I take a sip of my scotch and narrow my eyes over the rim of the glass at Tom. Corporate law isn’t exactly a riot, and that seems to be all Tom ever wants to talk about regardless of his audience.

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