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I shake myhead.
“I have a good feeling about tonight,” she goeson.
I don’t. Not only did my deal go up in flames, but my senior partner questioned myjudgment.
When the limo delivers us to the venue, I escort my mother to the door, falling into line with the other exceptionally well-dressed people. I greet business and charity contacts as we go, and Mom doestoo.
She really is good at this part. I think of Daisy’s words that I should involve her more in my life. She’s probably right, and I vow to dothat.
Once inside the vaulted foyer, an enormous two-story anteroom crowned by a modern metal chandelier, we proceed down a short hall. Double doors open into a main room that’s as grand as the entrance: more than two dozen tables, plus seats for a small orchestra and a dance floor. A box stage at the front is draped in heavy cream-colored fabric, and the podium has silver accents that match the venue’s simple logo on thefront.
On each table sits a large crystal vase out of which spill dozens of white flowers, and each place setting has crystal napkin holders and an embossed card bearing the names of the nominees andpresenters.
No one does self-congratulation like the Manhattanelite.
When we get into the main room, we’re shown to our seats at a round of eight. My business partners are already there with my brother. Tris and Mom hug, and my partners greet my mothertoo.
I check my phone. Nothing fromDaisy.
The speech I figured I’d be using—until this morning—is in my pocket. I have no idea if I’ll be needing itnow.
Holt comes over to my chair and says quietly, “No hard feelings about this morning or the last few weeks. I want what’s best for thefirm.”
“Bullshit.”
Before I can respond further, my gaze tugs past him to thedoors.
Daisy walks in wearing a black sequined dress with a deep V neckline, her hair long with a sharp edge. The burning in my gut from the day eases a fewdegrees.
There’s no one else in the room as she makes her way toward our table, escorted by one of thewaitstaff.
Holt’s blundering on, and I barely hearhim.
“Holt, excuse the interruption,” Daisy says easily, flashing a smile at Holt as she steps between us, tugging meaway.
My gaze sweeps her entire figure, from the red slicked lips to her curves under the black dress to her dark, linedeyes.
“You look stunning.” My voice is remarkably smooth for what I’mfeeling.
“Youtoo.”
I don’t say how much pleasure that brings me. How the world feels a little lighter, a little more right now that she’s here. I lean in to murmur in her ear, loving the little intake of breath my closeness causes, “Tell me something good.Please.”
She pulls back to peer at me, eyes shining with emotions I can't name. “When you look at me, I can’t think. But I don't wantto.”
I take her hand, her warm skin making mine hum. I flip her palm and press a kiss toit.
We’re keeping up appearances. There’s no point on my end since Xavier and Holt have already decided I’m notworthy.
But it doesn’t matter because I want her with me after this arrangement isover.
This month, I’ve realized the only thing better than having a best friend is being in love withher.
I want Daisy to be mine—not only at video games or brunch, to share jokes or to ventfrustrations.
I want her in my bed. In my life. In myheart.
We make the rounds and she’s the dutiful girlfriend, charming the attendees and asking pointed questions of the politicians inattendance.
