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Cynthia beams, completely oblivious.
Finn makes his way around the group, politely introducing himself and sharing business cards as he goes.
“You’re quite the schmoozer, Mr. Hawthorne,” I say quietly when he gets to me. Cynthia has pulled the attention of the group back to her and it grants us a brief reprieve.
“Mr. Hawthorne?” He raises a brow and takes a step forward, caging me in just a little. “I thought we were past that.”
I shrug. “Just keeping up appearances.”
He makes an irritated sound and dips his head so he can brush his lips against my ear. “Nope. Don’t like that.”
I choke on my breath as he splays his hand against my exposed thigh and gives it a squeeze. “But as long as it’sFinnthat comes out of those pretty lips later on tonight, I’ll let it slide.”
“Finn—”
“There we go.” He drops his hand, takes a step backward, and gives me an appreciative once over. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He grins. “Seems like we make a pretty good couple then.”
My heart twists. “Seems like it.”
He’s about to say something else but someone calls his name from across the room. He glances at the sleek watch on his wrist and mutters out a quiet curse. “It’s time for my speech.”
“Go,” I tell him, waving him away. “Come and find me once this is all over?”
“Thesecondit’s over.”
He disappears into the crowd and I lean against the bar. Finn appears again after a few minutes at the top end of the room on a makeshift stage. The music quiets down and a polite hush spreads over the crowd as people start to notice him.
“Good evening, everyone, and thank you so much for coming.” Finn launches into his speech, going over the long history of The August Room. He’s even graceful enough to briefly mention his uncle and tell everyone how the club has been thriving since Ernest took over as CEO fifteen years ago. The praise is undeserved in my opinion, but I suppose it might earn Finn some brownie points with the miserable man.
He follows that with a little bit about how special this London location is. He talks about how this is the first in the series of planned expansions across the globe and how London will always have a special place in his heart because of it.
I think he glances over at me when he says that, but he’s so far away I can’t be sure.
He introduces his new property manager, Viola, to the crowd and earns himself a roar of laughter across the board when he puts on a truly awful British accent to do so. And then he brings up Zensi Designs.
“This London expansion has been a long time in the making,” he says. “But I have to admit something. Not once in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I’d be able to find a designer to accurately depict my vision for the club. What Zensi Designshas done here—”
Cynthia clears her throat and stands tall. She’s practically glowing.
“What they’ve done here is nothing short of a miracle. I’ve had the pleasure of working closely with the design team. Though…” He gives a bashful pause. “Maybe it wasn’t always a pleasure for them.”
A good-natured chuckle ripples across the room, and I can’t help but join in.
“But they took my vision, all my admittedly unreasonable demands and gave me this. The most exquisitely designed members club in the city — and I can say that because I’m incredibly biased.”
Everyone laughs again and it’s truly remarkable how easily he works the crowd.
“I was painfully ignorant about what goes into designing a space when I first arrived, but my eyes have been opened.”
There’s no denying it this time. Hedoesscan the room looking for me when he says that.
“I encourage you all, when you have a moment, to spend some time walking around the club and really appreciate all the unique design choices made by the team. It’s truly phenomenal and I can’t thank them enough for everything they’ve done.”
Everyone around us is clapping Cynthia on the shoulder and heaping her with congratulations. I can tell she’s trying to look pleased, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her narrowed gaze finds me and her lips thin into a displeased frown.
