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And I do, immediately, when I see Dominic pulling Felicia Warren to one side. What the actual fuck?
Paris sighs beside me. “He is so hot, funny and—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I pat her arm and excuse myself.
Speaking to a guest or two, I have a problem focusing. I scan the room, trying to find Dominic. I can’t see him or Felicia, which I hate to admit disappoints me. I don’t get disappointed because of a man. But it’s not just about him. Out of all people, he goes after Felicia. Perhaps he likes older women.
No, the hussy that frequents his apartment proves he doesn’t. Or perhaps age is not a consideration. Could it be a business conversation he needed to have so urgently?
I had Ashley Google him to ensure he’s a lawyer, since his document proved helpful and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself when filing it with the city. Now I wonder if he’s not working with the enemy.
“Lo, here is the preliminary number.” Mila approaches me with a folded piece of paper. “Do you want to announce it now or wait?”
She’s pale and her signature smile is missing. “What’s wrong?”
She looks at me, startled, and then a mega-watt smile spreads across her face. “Nothing.”
So, the cheerfulness isn’t all that genuine.
I glance at the number she wrote down. We’re at eighty percent of last year’s funds raised from the silent auction. This should thrill me because it’s not even midnight, but I was really hoping I could beat the goal by at least fifty percent.
I’m still stuck without the capital for the research project. Gio doesn’t want to hear about it and van den Linden has been avoiding me. This was my chance to at least get the bare minimum. Or a small portion of it.
“I’ll make the announcement now.”
Mila nods and walks to the audio station. I make my way to the podium, and after she nods, I lean into the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re having a great night. I won’t bore you with statistics, no worries. You’ve heard enough to paint a gloomy picture of the state of treatment and care for people with leukemia and related illnesses at the beginning of the night.”
Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on me as I scan the room to command their attention. “I see the bar is busy and the dance floor is teeming, so why don’t we add to the excitement with a challenge?”
My dad smiles at me from his seat next to my stepmom, Bianca.
“We’re at almost five million in the silent auction, but that only means we’re about to reach last year’s level. The research and support for what this cause needs might be a marathon, but tonight can be a race. Who will join us in doubling the donations?”
A few people hoot and several walk to the silent auction table where Mila makes sure our volunteers assist them.
I could have told them more about the research project, more about the struggles people go through while on treatment, or any other detail to appeal on an emotional level. But years of experience have taught me that their sense of competition and the validation of their social status are the biggest drivers. So that’s the emotion I stir, and by the look of it, the race is on.
Two hours later we’re at a hundred and fifty percent of last year’s contributions, and I allow myself the first drink of the night.
“May I have this dance?” The husky voice tickles me like a siren’s song. I should resist, but I can’t.
I nod, hoping that if we don’t talk I can enjoy his masculine presence. A girl can fantasize, after all. He leads me to the dance floor with his hand on the small of my back.
Warm. Electrifying. Shiver-inducing.
He takes my hand and pulls me close to him. Too close.
His citrus scent wafts toward me and wraps me in a blanket of summer. He holds me confidently like a professional dancer, though we’re not dancing. We’re swaying in one spot, but somehow it feels like intricate choreography. I feel good in his arms. Too good. The realization awakens my default state of annoyance.
“Thank you for taking the time to prepare the case for the hospice. I was short of legal help and your assistance came at the right moment. Next time maybe ask before you take the initiative, though. How did you even know?”
In my six inches heels, I still have to crane my neck to look into his eyes. The amber spots in his irises glimmer. His usual cocky grin is replaced with a confident smile.
“You dropped the notice while you were trashing my valuable possessions.” He twirls me around, so suddenly that I lose balance and collide with him. His body, so hard and…Don’t go there, London!
I clear my throat. “Oh, yes, you finally moved in properly. Including a girlfriend. Where is she, by the way?”
