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I liked Harold Dennison.
He’d been a big supporter and cheerleader of mine over the years, even coming to me several times to introduce me to high-powered connections that had led to large, profitable jobs.
What I didn’t like was constantly being hounded to be a poster boy for the hospital, which, in turn, would lead to people asking questions, and having some damn documentary team come digging into my story and my past, looking to make something out of it.
I had my own qualms with my existence in this world.
I didn’t need Christians with pitchforks chasing me back to fucking hell.
Dennison stepped back from Valen with a genuine smile on his face. He finally thought he’d found a loophole. “I was hoping maybe your wife might be able to convince—”
“Reed is a smart man,” Valen cut in, stepping around him and walking over to me. “I’m sure whatever choice he’s making is one he has seriously considered and not taken lightly.”
A diplomatic way of telling Dennison she wouldn’t be convincing me of fucking anything. I watched a lot of people underestimate Valen and her strengths. One of them being her ability to read and assess a situation and act accordingly.
The kind of woman a king would want at his side.
One who was going to challenge me about this choice but who had the respect for me to do it in private. I knew Valen would follow my lead, but she wouldn’t do it blindly.
I got to my feet, and Valen stepped beside me, slipping her hand into mine and leaning into my body. The white button-up blouse she had tucked into a knee-length pencil skirt had me gritting my teeth, but it was the stiletto black heels she wore that almost had me throwing her onto my desk, whether Dennison was there or not.
It was fucking sexy.
Librarian chic.
I cleared my throat and cracked my neck from side to side. “Like I said, I appreciate the acknowledgment, but I’m not coming to cut that oversized ribbon next month.”
Dennison let out a heavy sigh, his wide shoulders falling dramatically as he exhaled. “It’s such a shame. But, the offer will stay on the table in case you change your mind.” The grin on his face was one to be admired, even as he walked out the door without what he came here for.
There was a reason Harold Dennison was the CEO of the children’s hospital.
There were not many things in this world that would keep this man from getting what he needed to support those children. He would fight tooth and nail. He would not walk away with a promise of something, whether that was a full donation, a part donation, or even a promise that you’d think about donating.
Which is why I found it so fucking hard to get mad at him for always being on my back about getting involved.
Because I knew it was genuine.
Not a gimmick.
The second the door clicked closed behind him, Valen turned and stepped in front of me, her eyebrow cocked though she still held my hand tightly. “Who—”
“The CEO of the Boston Children’s Hospital.”
“Okay…” she brushed her finger back and forth across the gold ring I was wearing.
“He wants me to open this new wing of the children’s hospital, which will focus a lot on their minds and trying to keep them healthy alongside their bodies.”
Both her eyes and mouth were pulled into a bright smile. “That’s so beautiful! How come they’ve asked you to be a part of that?”
“Because I paid for it.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she tightened her grip on my hand as she coughed out a laugh. “You… wait… Reed, that’s amazing. But wait… you said no?” the sparkle of happiness was quick to disappear.
I shook my head and spread my legs, moving my hands to her waist before pulling her in between them. “We’ve talked about this. How much being in the hospital can fuck with my head. Every time I walk into that place, I’m hit with flashbacks, images, sounds, smells. Every single one of them is a reminder of all the pain both Gabe and I had to go through. All a reminder that after all that shit, I was the only one who walked back out again.”
She lifted her hands and took hold of the lapels on my suit jacket.
I noticed how it had become a habit for her to wiggle and adjust them, like an unconscious routine that helped her focus on what she wanted to say when we were this close. And for the past two weeks, close was exactly what we’d been.
