Chapter Twelve

“Where’s your secretary date?” Will asked.

Jackson ground his teeth. Around them, the medical benefit was in full swing. The massive hall was filled with the city’s richest and brightest, donating to support cutting-edge medical research.

He’d already handed over an impressive check Lori had assured him was mandatory.

The room was decorated with more twinkly lights than he’d ever seen outside of a Christmas display. White and silver lined each table, with a raised stage at the end of the room that he had no doubt would lead to tedious speeches at some point this evening.

“It’s not a date,” he said, mimicking the words Lori had repeated over and over. Not that he’d seen all that much of her today. She’d been avoiding him whenever she could, and it was beginning to wear on him.

What the hell am I missing when it comes to her?

A whole lot, apparently.

“She didn’t want to arrive with me,” he continued. “I’m sure she’ll be around here somewhere.”

Please, God, let her show up soon.

He glanced around. The cocktail hour was easy enough to bluff his way through since no one ever said much of anything important as far as he could tell. Tonight was just an excuse to let the elite pat themselves on the back and feel good about giving to the hospital.

But once they sat down to dinner, he was going to need his secret weapon.

Will whispered something in his date’s ear, causing her to let out an irritating giggle.

He did his best to ignore her. The woman might be gorgeous in her questionably plunging black gown, but she wasn’t the one he wanted to see.

Turning, he scanned the room, searching for a familiar hazel gaze, when his breath caught in his throat.

Lori had arrived.

She stood in the entrance, her hands folded into her skirt as if uncertain of her welcome. As he watched her, she threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Ready to do battle.

They were ones he’d fight for her if she’d let him. But even after the little time she’d been in his life, he knew that wasn’t a request she was ever likely to make.

She stepped forward in higher heels than he’d ever seen her wear. Her body was draped in a deliciously clinging cerulean gown that hugged all his favorite curves. It was strapless, showing off her long neck that was unadorned in a sea of diamonds. Her hair was pulled back in a simple updo swept away from her face, and a little black clutch completed her outfit. She was both out of place and easily the most attractive woman in the room.

And she’s here with me.

He was moving before he even registered the impulse. Weaving his way through the crowd, he came up behind her. She glanced around, clearly searching for someone.

“Looking for me?” he breathed in her ear, running a light hand up her arm.

She twirled, bringing her a step closer. “Jackson,” she said.

“Expecting someone else?” he asked. “Did you line up a couple dates tonight?”

“One is about all I can handle,” she replied, her tone dry. “Sorry I’m late. Ran into a hair emergency.”

“You look beautiful,” he said honestly.

A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “Thanks.” She glanced away. “Should we find our seats?”

“We have a few minutes,” he said, lifting two glasses of champagne from the nearby waiter carrying a tray of them. He handed one to her before tapping the glass with his own. “Cheers.”

She hesitated a split second before raising it to her lips. “I was debating drinking,” she said. “But if I have to keep up with you tonight, I need all the liquid courage I can get.”

“I don’t know about that. You seem capable of taking out dragons all on your own.”

Despite his words, she tipped the flute to her lips and downed her champagne in a few gulps.

Watching in amusement, he held out his own glass to her before swapping out the empty glass for a new one with the server.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked as they walked forward into the crowd.

“We’ll be fine,” he replied. “I already checked the seat assignments. Will and his date are to your left. A man called Richard Lurig is to my right.”

She hissed. “Richard. I’ve never met him personally, but you’ve told me stories. Okay, let’s see. He’s a tech mogul. Designed some sort of app that skyrocketed. Cashed out high and now travels the word enjoying his wealth. I think you went to the Hamptons together last summer.”

“Hell,” he swore. “Then he knows me well.”

“Well enough that he’ll pick up on a missing memory.”

“Then we’ll have to be convincing.”

She nodded. “Clear your throat if you want me to jump in.”

He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward their table. At first, she stiffened at the touch but it was only a few seconds before she was relaxing into his hold.

“I made something for you,” she whispered as they walked. Opening her clutch, she pulled out a small sheet of paper that she causally slipped into his suit pocket. “A cheat sheet of the most important names you’ll need tonight. Just in case.”

He bit back a smile. She’d spent hours with him drilling these names into his head. And yet, even after declaring him ready, she went out of her way to provide him with one more safety rope.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered into her ear.

She glanced up at him with her wide, deep gaze and something clenched in his chest.

I wish we were anywhere else.

If they didn’t have hundreds of eyes on them nothing would have stopped him from kissing her.

“Ah, you found her,” Will interrupted.

Blinking, he realized they’d made it all the way back to his table.

“Hello, everyone,” Lori said, smiling easily but he noted the strain around her mouth. She wasn’t looking forward to this any more than he was.

“I’m Mimi,” Will’s date said, holding out her hand to Lori.

“A pleasure,” his assistant murmured. “You look incredible.”

Not as incredible as you do.

But they were words he wasn’t allowed to say.

“You didn’t miss much,” Will said. “It’s been tedious already. What do you say? Drinking games throughout the speeches to keep us entertained?”

“Or we could be professional,” he said.

Will sighed. “Trust you to suck what little fun can be found out of a boring evening, Sinclair.”

“I seemed to have missed most of the cocktail hour,” Lori put in diplomatically. “Looks like people are already finding their seats. Shall we?”

Mimi nodded, choosing the chair beside Lori.

She might be in for a long night.

Then again, so was he.

…

Lori fussed with the napkin on her lap just to have something to do. Around them, the table was beginning to fill. With each new arrival, she surreptitiously glanced at Jackson to see if he needed a name reminder. Each tiny shake of his head sent relief surging through her. Maybe they’d get away with this after all.

“So how long have you two been dating?” Mimi asked. She drained her drink and put her hand in the air, snapping her fingers until an annoyed waiter appeared to refresh it.

“Uh, we’re not dating. I’m here in a work capacity, that’s all.”

“That makes sense,” Mimi agreed.

Seriously? You couldn’t even wait till the first course to let your claws show?

She smiled tightly. “It must be a similar arrangement with you and Will, right?”

The blonde model jerked back so fast the new drink in her hand sloshed over the rim. “I’m his date,” she said. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

“Really? How long?”

Mimi glared daggers.

“I hear the chef tonight is spectacular,” she said, trying to change the subject. “We’re in for a treat.”

“Can’t wait,” Jackson said from her side, leaning closer. “The food is the best thing about these nights.”

“Do you come to these events often, Mr. Sinclair?” Mimi asked, leaning forward until little in her plunging dress was left to the imagination.

“A couple times a year,” he replied with the answer they’d prepped.

“This is the first time Will has brought me to one. Naughty boy. I’ll have to insist on more.”

“You do that,” Lori said. Because if Will was smart, he’d run in the opposite direction of this woman.

Is this what Jackson liked, too, before the accident? Vapid, superficial women who were drop-dead gorgeous?

Because if it was, she had nothing to offer. Mimi might just be searching for a meal ticket but there was no denying her perfect body or stunning face. Much like the redhead on Jackson’s phone.

You could never compete if he was the man he used to be.

The real Jackson wouldn’t look at her twice.

But he wants you now, an insidious inner voice whispered.

“Heads up,” he whispered for her ears alone, pulling her from her thoughts.

Glancing up, she saw Richard Lurig striding for their table.

Okay, Carlow, time to earn your keep.

“Richard,” Jackson said, rising to his feet along with Will. “Good to see you again.”

“What luck,” Richard said, shaking hands firmly with both men. “I worried I’d be at a table with no one to talk to.”

“No fear of that,” he replied. “Let me introduce you to my date for the evening.”

Lori smiled, standing. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Lurig. I’m Lori.”

“Richard, please.”

“Are you alone tonight?” she asked.

“My wife is headed for Paris, I’m afraid.”

“It’s beautiful this time of year,” Will said.

Richard shrugged. “My wallet will likely take a hit, but it amuses her to do these little trips.”

Little trips.

She’d been to Europe once, and it had taken her two years to save for the vacation.

What would it be like, deciding I wanted to go to Paris and just up and doing it?

This certainly wasn’t her world or anything close to it.

But it was Jackson’s.

The table returned to their seats and she glanced around to see the cocktail trays disappearing as the crowd prepared for dinner. On the stage, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-cut suit walked up to the podium.

“Welcome,” he said, causing the crowd to hush. “Thank for joining us tonight as we celebrate the advancements in medical science and the life-saving research that wouldn’t be possible without your generous support.”

Lori listened to the hospital MC go on with half an ear. She was more interested in scoping out the crowd than a fawning speech. As unobtrusively as possible, she checked out the other tables, noting a number of familiar faces. Few would be a true challenge, she realized with relief. Many were socialites or independently wealthy couples who wouldn’t know Jackson beyond his reputation at best. There were a few members of the financial sector who’d know him better but no close friends or business partners beyond the board members scattered around the room.

We might make it through this after all.

So long as they didn’t tip their hand.

The introduction speech wound down and she clapped politely. Waiters dressed in all white flooded the room, bringing the expensive dinners to each table. She had no doubt their tickets had been several thousand dollars a plate plus donations. At that price, this had better be the best damn meal she’d ever eaten.

When their first course arrived, the tiniest bowl of soup she’d ever seen was set before her.

She frowned at the glorified egg bowl that couldn’t possibly hold more than a few spoonfuls.

Dubious, she took her first taste of the green mixture. Only years of masking her emotions saved her from sticking out her tongue at the flavor of wheat grass.

To her left, Mimi made appreciative noises.

Of course she is. The woman probably lives off kale and mung beans.

She forced a few more mouthfuls down before setting aside her spoon.

Jackson leaned over, his lips a breath from her ear. “If the other courses follow the high bar set by the appetizer, I promise to buy you a decent meal when tonight’s over.”

“Steak,” she whispered back. “And lobster. In buckets.”

“Done.”

She hid a smile as her bowl was cleared.

“So, Jackson, how long has it been since we spent any time together?” Richard asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Was it the Hamptons?” he replied.

“That long ago? What’s wrong with us?”

“I have a company to run and you have a fortune to spend.”

The other man laughed. “You might be onto something there. Follow my lead. Life is far better than it was when I was in the corporate rat race.”

“Some of us like building our own personal empires,” he said. “If you’ve forgotten how it feels, maybe you’ve been out of the game too long.”

She reached for her drink as she listened in.

He’s doing well. Light, fun, impersonal. Perfect.

Just like the real Jackson would have done.

“Ah, my friend, I forget nothing. But I grew my company in my bachelor days.” He saluted her with his drink. “Just wait till you realize there is more to life than the daily grind.”

“Lori’s just a work colleague,” he said as dismissively as she’d advised.

“I see,” Richard said, his gaze jumping between them. “My apologies. You look so comfortable together.”

“We’ve worked together for years,” Lori said. “Every now and then Mr. Sinclair prefers to bring me along, particularly when there are other members of our company represented as there are tonight.”

“How very practical of him.”

“You know how it is. Work first,” Jackson said with a smile.

But the tech mogul just shrugged. “Just wait. Someday, it’ll be a woman first, and you won’t want it any other way. My Kalie is my world. I don’t miss what I had before I met her at all.”

A romantic billionaire.

If only there were more like him.

She glanced at her partner only to find his blue gaze on her. “Interesting idea, Richard,” he said without taking his eyes off her.

“Just wait till it happens to you.”

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

Finally, he turned away from her, his attention returning to the man at his side.

“On to other subjects, then,” Richard said as waiters brought out the next course. “Have you seen Downy lately? I can’t seem to make our schedules line up.”

There was a beat of silence before Jackson cleared his throat, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin.

Downy. Who the hell is that?

Her brain jumped into overdrive, trying to run through the Rolodex of business contacts in her head. Who could have a nickname that was similar?

But all she was drawing was a blank.

“Downy?” Jackson said to buy time. “Can’t pin him down?”

Richard frowned. “Him?”

“Did I say that?” he corrected smoothly. “Slip of the tongue. Perhaps I should slow down on the scotch.”

Richard laughed. “At an event like this, I’d say the better bet would be to speed up.”

Downy is a woman. Who can it—

“Oh, Margaret Downton? Didn’t you have lunch with her last month, Jackson?” she asked, reaching under the table to squeeze his thigh.

“Well, hell, you’re right. See? I’d forget my own name without Lori’s help.”

Those around them listening to their conversation laughed.

Under the table, his hand found hers, giving it a squeeze of thanks.

Warmth filled her as she reclaimed her hand and started in on the petite chicken that had been set before her. Again, everything was in mini form, including the artistic swirls of the Duchess potatoes and bitesize carrot nibs. Apparently, rich people cared more about form than substance.

She shouldn’t be surprised.

As the table began to dig in, a series of speakers took to the stage. None of the speeches were particularly memorable but at least with all attention focused at the front of the room there wasn’t much for her to worry about. Richard had turned to whisper to the man on his right, leaving Jackson in peace.

As subtly as she could, she slipped her cell from her clutch and checked the time.

“Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?” Jackson whispered in her ear.

“It’s still early. We have a long way to go.”

“We’ll be fine,” he said, brushing her arm in a light touch. “Thank you for being here.”

There was no biting back her smile. “I can never say no to you.”

It’d been her problem for years.

“Really?” he purred. “I’ll keep that in mind next time we renegotiate your salary.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m worth a million bucks, and you know it.”

“Only a million? I’d argue with that valuation. Not nearly enough.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be treating me like a servant?” she asked in a whisper.

“Can’t seem to do it. Sue me.”

“I won’t, but if this all goes south, your other employees might.”

“Such an optimist.”

“I’d rather be a realist.”

“I’d rather be on a beach with a beer in my hand instead of eating tiny food like a rabbit,” he said.

“Tiny food you paid a ridiculous amount for.”

“I’ve always been an avid supporter of…what sort of research are we fundraising for?”

“I’m not sure anyone in this room cares.”

“Not as long as they’re photographed handing over a check,” he agreed.

“Why, Mr. Billionaire, that was pretty cynical about your own crowd.”

He scanned the room. “This can’t be my crowd. How would that have ever happened?”

“I think it’s called success,” she said.

“This is not my definition of success.”

“No?” She finished her food and pushed the plate away. “What is, then?”

His gaze came back to hers. “I think Richard and I might be more alike than I thought.”

She swallowed, glancing away. “Maybe once everything is back to normal, you can turn over a new life and search for a wife who likes to go to Paris for the weekend.”

“How are your travel tastes?” he teased.

“Expensive,” she replied, lifting her chin.

His grin flashed wide. “What a coincidence. I happen to know a man with deep pockets.”

“Yes, but Richard is taken.”

He clutched his chest. “Straight to the heart.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Just listen to the speeches while we wait for what’s likely an equally tiny dessert.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later, she was staring at a two-bite brownie with ice cream and a mint sprig on top.

“Imported French vanilla,” Mimi put in when she tasted it. “You can tell it’s organic. So good.”

Lori arched a brow and popped half of the beautiful, if unsatisfying, creation in her mouth. While it was the best thing she’d eaten that night, it wasn’t saying much.

“What’s next?” she whispered to her date.

“Sweetheart, you are so asking the wrong man.”

Around them, people started to get to their feet and mingle. Looked like they’d hit the socializing portion of their evening.

On cue, the band started up and couples began heading for the dance floor.

“Are they waltzing?” she asked in disbelief. “Who knows how to waltz in this day and age?”

A strange expression crossed Jackson’s face. “I think I do.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about it.”

“We’re playing a part, remember? Look, Will and Mimi are already ahead of us.”

“I can’t waltz. I took one class with some girlfriends, but that was a really long time ago and I’m reasonably sure wine was involved.”

“Let’s hope you have a better memory than I do.”

With a hand on her back, he propelled them forward before she could protest.