The Kingmaker (All the King's Men, #1)(78)

“Thanks a lot,” Wallace says, but I hear some answering humor in his voice. “I’m getting even more daggers now.”

“Has he been rude to you?” I glance up at him, still leaning on his shoulder. “I mean since he looked at you like you were a bottom feeder and practically refused to shake your hand?”

“I tried to talk to him about his work with recycling systems in developing countries, and he walked off.”

I wince. “He’s being ridiculous. I don’t get it.”

“I think he heard me say I love you.”

“Which is none of his business. I’m none of his business.”

“You’re going to have to talk to him.” He chews on something delicious-smelling wrapped in bacon. “How long do we have to do this pretend relationship?”

“Would you just shut it?” I glance around to make sure no one heard. “You’re the worst beard ever.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. He’s more likely to believe I’m dating Kimba at the rate you’re going, falling at his feet and shit.”

“I just admire him and would like to have actual conversations with him about real world issues.”

“Would you also like long walks on the beach with him?” I take a much-needed sip of the martini. “Maybe wear his letterman jacket? Date to the prom?”

“If I didn’t love you so much . . .” He fixes a deer-in-headlights stare over my shoulder. “Uh, Maxim. Hi. We were just . . . that new electric car you’re developing. I think it’s great.”

A chilly silence meets Wallace’s comment. I don’t look over my shoulder to acknowledge Maxim.

“Thanks,” he replies to Wallace after a few more frigid seconds. “Dinner’s about to be served. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second, Nix?”

“I don’t think so,” I murmur into my martini glass. “But thanks for the heads up on dinner. Ready, Wall?”

Wallace looks at me like I kicked his puppy for a second and then grits out, “Yes, dear.”

I drag him to follow everyone else into the dining room. Wallace and I are seated at one end of the table with Kimba and a few others from the team. Maxim sits near Cade and Millicent at the other end, and they’re joined by the Cades’ tow-headed twins, both of whom have excellent table manners and infectious laughs. “Uncle Max’s” rich baritone drifts down to my end of the table more than once, punctuated with childish giggles. The shield over my heart almost slips at the sight and the sound of Maxim connected to his family. In Amsterdam, I could tell he missed them. From what I know, his relationship with his father remains strained, but it’s good to see him with Owen’s family.

“So what do you do, Murray?” Maxim’s question winnows all the way down the table and through the varied conversations like an arrow. “For a living, I mean.”

An awkward silence spreads over the group, everyone unsure if they should wait for Wallace’s response or return to their own conversations.

“Uh, it’s Murrow.” Wallace clears his throat. “And to answer your question, I’m a biochemist. I specialize in vaccine development.”

“Wow,” Bill says with elevated eyebrows, obviously impressed. “Smart guy, huh?”

Wallace shrugs, self-conscious and never comfortable being the center of attention. “Everyone has their specialty, I guess,” he mumbles.

“But they’re not just handing out doctorates in biochemistry over at MIT,” I say.

“Duke,” Wallace corrects softly.

“Duke,” I say, the pride I feel for my friend something I don’t have to fake. “Wallace is brilliant. He focuses on making vaccines more effective in developing nations.”

“Admirable,” Millicent says from the north end of the table, sending Wallace a kind smile.

“Lennix and Wall are actually going to administer vaccines in a few months,” Kimba adds, winking at Wallace. “This is what? Your sixth service trip together?”

“Seventh,” I correct. “And don’t worry, guys. I’m not doing anything that involves a needle.”

“What will you be doing?” Millicent asks.

“Our team is helping with some building projects,” I answer.

“Where?” Maxim asks, a frown between his dark brows.

I meet his eyes directly, as I’ve rarely done at all tonight. My single lifted brow asks what the hell it has to do with him, but I answer. “Talamanca. The Bribri reserve there has the largest indigenous population in Costa Rica. Over ten thousand.”

“Lenny’s taking a group of students from the San Carolos Reservation in Arizona with us,” Wallace adds.

“It’s great for them to see another indigenous community,” I say. “One with so much of their culture and language intact. They think we’re going to serve the people of Bribri, but honestly, these students will gain more than they give. At least that’s how it always is for me.”

“It’s safe?” Maxim demands, forcing me to meet his eyes again.

I shouldn’t have looked at him because an invisible stream of memory passes between us. Every kiss, every touch, every time we laughed and made love, flash on a superhighway from my eyes to his. It’s a head-on collision that leaves me shaken, exposed, with everyone at the table witnessing the wreckage.