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I smirk, thinking about how she was looking everywhere but at me, even though I was hunting for her eyes. I wanted to see if they were the same perfect sparkling blue that I remember. They were. But she is the only woman I have ever met who doesn’t seem to like the look of me. The only woman to see me half naked and not touch me or attempt to take a photo and sell it to the gossip magazines. Both are a rarity in this city for me, unfortunately.
I walk out to find Oscar looking panicked. The room today is full of all the key people, a gold mine for garnering support for my soon-to-be announced campaign. I crack my neck as I strut toward him, pushing my thoughts of her to the back of my mind. I need to focus.
“Where is he?” I ask, knowing that the entire purpose of me being at this event is so I could catch Arthur Stratten for a moment to appeal for his support. Aside from my family and Lilly’s father, Arthur is one of the biggest landowners in Maryland and has his hand in many businesses. He is also an old, ruthless bastard. He and my father were arch nemeses in the old days before my father passed away, but now he remains mostly out of the limelight, preferring to count his millions at home, it seems. Oscar got word that he was at this event and managed to get us tickets at short notice so we could get an audience with him.
“He said he had to find someone, but I can’t see him anywhere,” Oscar says, frustrated, as we both look around the room frantically for him, knowing that the event is about to wrap up.
It is then that I spot him. Laughing and smiling. Which are two things he never does.
“He is over there,” I say, nodding to the far right of the room, near where I just came from, and Oscar’s eyes follow mine.
“He’s laughing?” Oscar gapes, his eyebrows hitting his hairline, and the two of us take a few steps in his direction before I stop. I see who he is with and what is making him so happy, and it is the same woman who put a smile on my own face moments ago.
Beth.
Oscar pushes me along, but my feet are already moving of their own accord. My eyes firmly on her. She is laughing too. Her shoulders are back, her eyes sparkling. Her lips curved up in a way that has me thinking all sorts of things I definitely shouldn't be. She looks different from the woman I was just with in the darkened cloakroom. Vibrant and full of life, standing tall, looking radiant.
I observe her some more, seeing her interact with Arthur. I am impressed that she seems to have such a friendly relationship with one of the wealthiest men in the country. In fact, I see many people walking past her on the way out, all of whom say goodbye or shake her hand. She has D.C. wrapped around her little finger.
As we step up to them both, Beth looks up, and her beaming smile fades as she sees me.
“Arthur, good to see you,” I say, pushing my way into their conversation and trying not to let her obvious dislike for me sour my mood.
Arthur turns and looks at me as Beth excuses herself, her sprinkle of freckles highlighted by her pink-tinged cheeks. “I will leave you to it, Arthur.”
“Let’s do lunch and chess later this week, Bethy. I will send my car to get you,” he tells her fondly, and I watch her smile at him as she takes a step back. I appreciate her professionalism.
“I would love that, Arthur. But you won’t win chess, you know that, right?” Looking at her I wonder what I need to do to get a smile from her like that?
The two of us watch her as turns and merges back with the crowd. Her red hair flows over her shoulders with her stride. And I don’t miss the way her ass looks in her black dress, or the way her legs extend from her patent black high heels. Arthur clears his throat, and I whip my head toward him.
“Keep your eyes off her. She is far too good for the likes of you,” Arthur says in warning, and I raise my eyebrows at him. For a man pushing seventy, he still has a lot of fight left in him.
“You can have any woman you want. Beth is not the one for you,” he continues, his eyes narrowing on me.
“Just like your father, looking at every pretty girl in the room,” Arthur mutters, shaking his head, and I look at him. He is the first person to mention my father to me in a long time, but given their history, I shouldn’t be surprised.
I clench my teeth, but smile. We both know that my father was a philanderer. A playboy. A name that is often associated with me due to the myriad of women I date. But unlike my father, I didn’t marry a woman twenty years my junior, then cheat on her every chance I got. To be honest, the thought sickens me, and I have no plans to invest in the institution of marriage after the mockery he made of it.
“Arthur, I want to chat with you, perhaps take you to lunch?” I state, ignoring his previous remark. There is no point making small talk; Arthur is a straight shooter and so am I.
“You want my money? My support? Is that it?” Arthur, like the businessman he is, gets right to it. I remain silent, waiting for him to give me the answer I want to hear.
“We can meet. But not for lunch. I only have lunch with friends, and let me be very clear, we are not friends, Harrison. But I will hear what you have to say. Call my office, they will set it up.”
“Thanks, Arthur. I will call and arrange something for next week.” I appreciate that he shakes my hand this time as I extend it to him again.
“We’ll see, boy. We’ll see.” Turning away from me, he slowly walks out the door. The event is now finished, and the room is starting to clear.
“Well, that went well. Who was he talking to just now?” Oscar asks, his head still whipping around the room, seeing if there is anyone else we need to speak to while we are here.
“Why?” I question as my own eyes roam the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman who has twice now crashed into my life, shocking me with cold champagne, before flowing out again.
“Who is she to you?” Oscar asks, and I turn and see him looking at me. His accusing eyes crinkle at the sides. He must read something on my face as his look turns serious.
“You said it yourself; we don’t need distractions, Harrison.”
“I’m not distracted. I am one hundred percent focused. Let’s go,” I grit out, not liking that he is questioning me about a woman and already making assumptions.
