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“You bring her out, on your arm, to an event where there are media, a red carpet, the who’s who of this town. They have never seen a woman on your arm before. It will be all over the gossip pages tomorrow. I can see the headline now.America’s most sought-after billionaire bachelor finally meets his match,” Huxley mocks, watching me carefully over the rim of his glass.
“Is that what you call it these days?” I murmur, ignoring his statement, my eyes still glued to the woman across the room.My woman.He is right. It will be all over the news, both gossip and business. I am sure my PR agency will be fielding a few calls throughout the next few days. It is unusual for me to be seen with a woman. I keep my private life low-key, usually just coming to these things on my own or with Connor.
“She is nice. Beautiful. Smart. What the hell does she see in you?” President Rothschild says, grabbing my attention as he butts into our conversation. Best friends with my son, Harrison is newly president and doing a damn good job of it too.
“Mr. President.” I give his hand a shake. It is nice to see him, even if it is always fleeting.
“Nice to see you looking so happy for a change, Tanner.” He looks at me with the same smirk both Connor and Huxley do.Assholes.
“I’m always happy,” I say sarcastically with a grin.
“Don’t tease my father. It is about time he found someone, and Victoria is a perfect match for his grumpy ass.” Connor comes over, slapping the president on the back, which has his secret service stepping forward. Harrison waves them off.
“I met her earlier, a smart woman. Fits in with the girls already. I am sure Beth will want to catch up with her again soon,” Harrison says before someone whispers in his ear, and he nods. “Might come out to Whispers soon. I will call you.” Then he’s shaking my hand again. As soon as he comes, he goes, many more hands to shaketonight, as we are here to raise money for his sister’s literacy foundation.
“He is like Batman; I only ever see him at night these days,” Connor says, taking a sip of whiskey.
“Did you just call the president Batman?” Victoria asks, smiling as she slides into my side and my arm wraps around her on instinct. Connor watches us closely, and his grin widens.
“Yeah. You should hear what I used to call him in college,” my son says, and she laughs.
“Oh, I am sure I don’t want to know.”
My smile is wide as I watch my son and my girl chatting like old friends. She has done that all night. Talked to everyone, been present in all conversations, networked, smiled for every camera, made new connections. She fits right in like she’s been to a hundred of these events.
“Saw you talking with the girls earlier?” I ask her quietly as Connor and Huxley chat among themselves.
“I was telling them all about my plans for Marie’s Place. They were really interested to learn about it. Apparently, they know a lot of single, struggling moms from the literacy program, and they think that maybe the Rothschild Foundation could look at funding families to have a vacation break a few times a year at Marie’s,” she says excitedly, and my chest swells with pride.
“Sounds like you have had a great night.” Pulling her close, I kiss her on her forehead, then hear a camera click nearby.
“So there are a lot of cameras on us tonight?” she whispers, looking up at me.
“Hmm. I guess it is an oddity,” I tell her and watch her brow furrow.
“Oddity? What is?” she asks.
“That I am here with a woman.” I take a sip of my whiskey as I let that sink in.
“Who do you normally bring to these things?”
“Connor.”
“Really? Why not dates?” she asks, still looking surprised.
“Because I never found anyone I desired having on my arm until now. Someone I don’t want to be without.” The honesty of my words hits us both as we look at each other, her eyes sparkling as they stay locked on mine.
“Excuse me, Mr. Whiteman.” A young woman with a clipboard appears, breaking our moment.
“Yes?” I look at her while I squeeze Victoria’s waist, keeping her close.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I am part of the event crew, and I am here to tell you that the item you donated for auction has been won. The sum of seventy-five thousand dollars was reached by the president himself,” she says with a grin, and I smile and nod. I knew Harrison would bid on my whiskey. He has started a collection.
“Oh, you donated something? I didn’t know that.” Victoria looks at me with a large smile, and I hear more cameras click.
“Mr. Whiteman always does; we are so grateful for all his support,” the young woman, who is obviously working for the Rothschilds, says.
“Well, what did you donate?” Victoria asks me.
