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“No. I don’t want to talk about Drumm. Like I said, I’m here to support JD.”
“Is it true people had to pay two thousand dollars to attend tonight?”
“Something like that.”
I look and count at least three dozen people. “So Drumm will have raised over fifty thousand dollars tonight? That amount of money could feed so man hungry families.”
“I can see where your politics land.”
I lift my chin. “Good. It’s not like I’m trying to hide it.”
“In my world, it’s best to be…open-minded about politics.”
In his world? The world of business or club owners?
A breeze kicks up, and I rub my arms more. Darren takes off his sportscoat and hands it to me.
“We could just go back inside,” I demur.
“You like the view. Take it.”
“Won’t you get cold?”
I quiver, but it’s only partially due to the cold. Mostly it’s the look he’s giving me. Like I’m about to be punished.
“No,” he answers.
I hesitate, then take his jacket and slip it on. I catch the faint smell of him on the jacket.
“Thanks,” I say. “For someone I thought was the rudest guy I’d ever met, you’re actually kind of nice.”
Shoot. I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I didn’t mean to make a backhanded compliment. Something about him makes me get my circuits crossed. And there’s that look he’s giving me again. Letting me know I’m in trouble.
