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Plus, he remembers things about me. My degree, graduating with honors, that I danced, and other tidbits he adds to conversation when it fits. I know he received a file on me from my uncle, or maybe his assistants compiled one too. We’ve never discussed any of it. Still, he doesn’t have to include me and compliment me the way he does. He makes sure my champagne stays full and waves servers over so that we don’t miss any of the appetizers. It feels like maybe he’s really trying. That idea has me ecstatic.
At dinner time, he pulls my chair out for me and then rests his arm on my seat back casually, as if we’ve always sat this way. I wish we always had. I hope we always do, except closer. He’s not actually touching me. He seems miles away in his seat. He’s guided me around the room by barely resting his fingers on the small of my back. I was hoping he’d hold my hand or maybe tuck my arm in his, pull me closer.
But no, he has kept his distance all evening. Although, what was I expecting? It’s not like he’s going to make out with me in front of all of the Texas lawmakers. Though at this point, I’d be fine with it. Watching him spin his magic around the room has me totally worked up. He shakes hands and I notice his huge arms. He adjusts his tie and I watch his thick fingers. He drinks his whiskey and I have to keep myself from staring at his full lips.
I haven’t caught him staring back at me. But again, this is work for him. And the caresses on my back, though light and few, are a warm reminder that I’m with him. This is the beginning. We are together now.
Finally, it’s time to dance. But Mark leads us to a back, less crowded bar instead. He walks ahead and as I follow, I think I see tension in his shoulders. Through all of him, really. From his shined shoes, uncreasedpants and still-perfect hair.
Oh, maybe he can’t relax enough to dance. At least,not well. Or maybe that’s where he draws the line on beingonand having to perform as the whole room watches him.
He orders us some waters. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
I nod, “Definitely, are you? You must do this all the time?”
“Almost literally all the time.”
I frown. “That sounds exhausting.”
He shrugs, “Comes with the job.”
“Well, you’re exceptionally good at,” I look around the room, “All of this.”
He grins, but his brow furrows a bit. “Thank you.” His eyes move over my shoulder and he lifts his chin as a hello to someone at the outer edge of the dance floor. I raise my eyebrows and he answers my unsaid question. “Jim Butler. A rich, powerful, ancient senator.”
“Oh, just like you.” I tease.
A genuinely shocked expression covers his features as he releases a small, surprised chuckle. “Ouch. Is twelve years too many?”
I shake my head and blush, a bit surprised, I guess, that he memorized my age. “It’s not, I was just teasing.”
His smile falters for a second as he looks at another old rich white guy, who has a stunning blonde hanging from his arm. I don’t miss that Mark takes her in. I do too, since she’s dressed for the attention. She could almost be Lydia’s twin…so much leg.
Leg!
The slit!
“I’m going to head to the ladies’ room,” I say softly to Mark. He nods before heading in the couple’s direction, excitedly calling the man’s name as if they’re best friends.
In the powder room, I make quick work of relieving myself and then digging the clippers from my bag. I cut the threads Mamá added before gathering my things and heading to wash my hands. I turn and look at myself in the full-length mirror by the paper towels. I kind of see it, the dress was wearing me, but now I’m absolutely wearing it. I smile a little bit. There’s no way he won’t notice.
I need him to. I need him to start seeing me not as some random niece of a business associate, but as his future wife. No, not just that. He needs to see me ashis woman, as I’ve overheard Made men say many times. I push my shoulders back, tuck a loose tendril behind my ear, and head out into the hall.
Mark is actually waiting there, and he definitely looks at my legs right away. But I see no reaction.Bummer.He gestures toward the outside doors and puts a light touch on my back when I meet his stride. “Let’s get some air.”
“Okay.”
When we reach the doors he turns to the guards that are nearby. “Wait here, you can watch through the glass.” My guards nod reluctantly while his men stop in their tracks.
“Hey, Mark!” Some man calls to us from the hallway.
“Jake, my man! We’ll be right back, she needs some air, and then I’ll find you in a minute.”
“Air, uh huh, okay,” the guy says with a waggle of his eyebrows. Mark laughs and gives him a wink. My excitement quadruples. Maybe he’ll kiss me now, or maybe we’ll dance alone, away from the onlookers.
Once we’ve taken a few steps out to the courtyard area, Mark’s smile falls from his face as if a switch has been turned off.
“Finally.” He turns to me and I offer a concerned smile. He looks so different. Maybe he’s ill? Tired? Something’s bothering him? “Look, we don’t have to do that when it’s just us.” His voice is quieter and much, much harder.
