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The only reason I cared this much about being the butt of her joke was because I didn’t want to embarrass Hunter, but he didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he looked at me with a warmth and depth to his gaze that made my heart flutter before shooting Katherine an icy glare as he picked up a piece of bread and plunged it into the caviar the same way I had.
“Caviar tastes the same, no matter how it gets on the melba toast, Katherine,” Hunter snarled before popping it into his mouth.
Katherine’s face fell.
“Come on.” Hunter took my hand and again tried to lead me out of the room.
Again, we were intercepted.
This time by the mayor.
“Hunter,” he said, “may I have a word with your date?”
I blinked, taken aback. He wanted to talk tome? Why? And why alone?
Outwardly, Hunter played the role of the gracious host. “Of course,” he even said. But his patience unraveled when he whispered in my ear, “For the love of all things holy, please make it quick.”
I smirked at the notion I was making such a powerful man sweat. I had a good idea why he was trying to pull me away, but if we were intimate, what would that unleash? Hunter used one-night stands as a way of emotionally distancing himself from people. But if I slept with him, it would do the opposite, unraveling something I wouldn’t be able to put back.
The problem was, I wanted to be with Hunter—if only for one night—so much that it scared me.
Hunter paused for a moment, lips pressed tightly together. Then, with a final lingering glance, he turned and stepped away.
“Mayor Kepler,” I said, shaking the man’s hand.
This really was the party full of Chicago’s elite.
I wish Sean could have made it to see this. Hunter extended an invitation to him, albeit begrudgingly, in an effort to make me happy. But Sean said he’d rather have a root canal performed by a blind dentist than spend his evening with the likes of Hunter and his friends.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” I added.
Kepler was in his mid-fifties, and the top of his head sported a glaring bald spot the size of an apple that he attempted to conceal with a comb-over. He had a well-groomed mustache that matched his light-brown hair color and a neatly trimmed beard that added to his distinguished appearance.
“I had no idea you would be here tonight, Ms. Payne,” the mayor said, as if this were a pleasant surprise.
But I was still unclear. “I wasn’t aware you knew who I was.”
“It’s not every day someone dares to challenge our city’s notorious Vigilante with such composure and eloquence.”
“You saw the press conference,” I realized.
“Pretty sure half the city of Chicago saw that press conference, if not the subsequent repeats since then. It was quite impressive.”
“Perhapsallpeople are finally starting to see the Vigilante for the dangerous criminal he truly is,” I speculated.
The mayor smiled warmly at me. “Perhaps they needed someone as graceful as you to show them. I heard you had another encounter with him. That he came to your rescue. Is that true?”
A wave of frustration hit me. “It is.”
“Did it change your opinion of him?”
I hated that the mayor wanted to clarify this point with me, and I hated it even more that there was a slight rumbling of disagreement in my heart with how I felt.
I’d replayed that incident in my mind many times, and what was disturbing was that I’d had toactivelyremind myself of the brutality that the Vigilante was capable of. I’d imagined his victims perhaps walking to their cars, just like Dominic had, only to be ambushed and executed. If I didn’t focus on that part of the Vigilante, I risked my gratitude toward him for saving my life overshadowing the truth of who he really was.
A monster.
