Reluctantly Yours(47)
A few minutes later I return to the main room, a glass of champagne in my hand and a smile on my face.
CHAPTER 13
Barrett
I usually avoid events like tonight, The Top Dog Gala, like the plague. But with my sights set on Voltaire, I’m making every effort to show Fred that SCM is the right choice. That effort is me putting on this tuxedo, mingling with people I have no interest in talking to and bidding on silent auction items with highly offensive price tags.
At the bar, I order a scotch while Carl orders a gin martini. I sip my scotch and take in the room. After dinner, the ballroom lights dimmed and several tables were cleared to make room for the dance floor. A jazz quartet is now playing softly while couples dance under a canopy of stars that lowered from the ceiling.
All of this for dogs.
My eyes find Chloe, standing near the dance floor with the group of women from our table.
From the moment she walked down the stairs at my place, I knew I was fucked.
That Chloe at my side wasn’t going to be helpful, but a distraction knocking me off my game.
I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her all night.
That dress. The one I picked out. The one I had no idea was backless until she did a little spin to show off the dress. It has been taunting me all night. The way the deep blue color makes her eyes sparkle and the fit hugs all her curves. I have no one to blame but myself, but that hasn’t stopped me from acting like a complete asshole.
And when I saw her in the auction room with another guy? I had dark thoughts until I realized it was Hunter. He’s a bachelor, but he’d never fuck with another man’s woman.
Except Chloe isn’t mine. It only appears that way and once we’re over, once my deal with Fred is secured, I’ll have no claim to her.
“From a legal standpoint, it’s cut and dry, but we need to press Fred on the timeline. Keep him focused on the benefits of the merger before anyone else can get to him. I dropped off documents yesterday. Have you had a chance to look through them?”
Chloe laughs at something Emma says and my scowl deepens.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?”
My attention returns to Carl, but he’s already followed my gaze to where I was watching Chloe a moment ago.
“I heard you. I’m working on it.”
Carl nods in Chloe’s direction. “What about her?”
“What about her?” I say with more bite than necessary.
“Jesus. Someone is testy tonight.”
I take another sip. The familiar burn of the scotch at the back of my throat brings up the memory of the last event I attended. Weeks ago, when my mother was determined to set me up with Eileen’s daughter and I told Fred I had a girlfriend. Chloe pretending to be my girlfriend was supposed to make my life easier, but it’s not. It’s more complicated. And far harder.
“She’s fine. We’re fine.”
Carl chuckles. “That’s what Lindsay says when she wants to cut my balls off. It actually means the opposite of fine. Surely you know that.”
“Fuck off.”
Carl’s chuckle fades away. “This arrangement you’ve got going with Chloe, it’s not going to interfere with the deal, is it?”
“Nothing is interfering with the deal,” I growl.
“You say you’ve got it under control, but, man,” Carl looks me up and down, “you don’t look like a man in control of himself.”
He takes my silence as permission to keep talking.
“I’m just saying, I can see the tension between you two, feel it. Maybe you guys should fuck it out. You know, get her in your bed to get her out of your head.”
I’ve got a good four inches on Carl. I put my glass on the bar, then lean in, staring him down.
“When I want your opinion on my personal life, I’ll ask.”
Carl lifts both hands in surrender. “Cool, man. It was only a suggestion.”
I straighten my suit jacket, then move through the crowd.
Determined to not let Chloe’s alluring presence and her disdain for mine affect me, I set my sights on Fred, who is sitting across the room at a table alone. A rare moment without Frankie. This evening might not be a waste after all.
As I make my way to Fred, I’m stopped countless times, people I don’t know or do know but forgot their names pull me into conversation. Finally, I make it to his table.
“Fred.” I clap him on the shoulder. “How are you?”
Fred turns, a good-natured smile on his face. “Mr. St. Clair, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
“Dogs are man’s best friend, right?” Even I can feel the sincerity of the evening’s forced niceties wearing thin.
“Exactly. Take a seat. You need a drink?” He motions for a waiter. With his suit jacket open, I can see the buttons on his dress shirt straining. A walk to the bar would probably do him some good.
“I’m good.” I wave him off. “We didn’t have much time to talk at tennis on Thursday and—”
“That was a good time. Except Chloe getting smacked in the head. How’s she doing?” He looks around. “Is she here?”
“Yes, and she’s fine. The bruise faded quickly.”