“Yes. I’m representing a Quinton.”
Ha. I knew it.
“David Quinton?”
Again his gaze lingers on me as we stop at the light to turn left toward the club. “Did I miss something?”
“What are you talking about?” I cross my legs, then my arms over my chest. My body language is more along the lines of when we left to go to Wisconsin weeks ago. Before I fell in love with this man and well before he disappointed me.
“I thought your sourness was because you’re nervous for me to meet your parents or the fact you don’t seem very fond of your mother, but this line of questioning as though I’m on the stand has me thinking I must have missed something.”
“I’m just making conversation. I figure you might screw over some of my friends and I have to say, I don’t know if I’m okay with that.”
He glances over at me and his eyes narrow. “We’ve been over this, I don’t screw anyone over. I get my clients what the law states they are entitled to.”
“To you maybe. It’s convenient for you to see it that way.”
He follows the navigation in his Range Rover since I stopped directing him after we got off the highway. Pulling up toward the club, he stops at the gates.
A security guard leans forward to look inside the car.
“Hi, Len.” I wave.
A smile wraps around the fifty-year-old man’s mouth. “Hannah? We’ve missed you.” He presses a button. “Have a great brunch.”
“Thanks, Len. Give Ruth my love.”
“Always.” He waves and Roarke drives through the open gates.
“Funny that Len doesn’t get the cold shoulder,” he mumbles but it’s clear he intended for me to hear it.
Roarke parks in a spot and my hand yanks the door open as soon as the SUV comes to a stop.
Before I can exit the car, his hand lands on my left one. “Just so you know, David Quinton isn’t my client.”
I slide out from his grip not sure how to react after my assumptions were wrong. Stepping out of the car, he’s rounding the front before I can smooth my skirt and swing my purse over my shoulder.
“It’s Scarlett. She’s my client. If you have to know in order for us to go in there like the happy couple we’ve been since we started dating, then I’ll tell you. But please remember you are not to repeat this information.” I nod in agreement. “David tried to hire me. Offered me double what Scarlett was paying me.”
A heavy weight drops in my stomach.
I had it wrong?
“Oh.”
His hand slides to my back and I have no time to think about how I keep making assumptions that aren’t true about him before his lips are on my neck. The sweet spot he found that stirs butterflies in my stomach.
“I forgive you,” he whispers, his hand tapping the small of my back to get moving.
“Oh do you?” I raise both eyebrows, the usual playfulness not on my face.
Roarke scrutinizes my expression, still in the dark as to why I’m being so bitchy this afternoon.
“Hannah!” a male voice yells my name from somewhere in the parking lot.
“It’s my dad,” I murmur and Roarke’s frown instantly tips up, reminding me he’s like a chameleon, able to change with a snap of his fingers into someone else.
Looking around, I spot my dad at the valet. I wave and we head that way.
The other valet opens the door for my mom, holding his hand out for her.
“We’re so happy you could make it today.” My dad smiles and embraces me with a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.” As he steps back his attention moves to Roarke. “Ah, I think our daughter failed to mention something to us, Olive.” He holds his hand out to Roarke who’s steady hand immediately shakes my dad’s.
“Roarke Baldwin. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crowley.” He does this all with one hand wrapped around my waist.
“Please, it’s Gregory and this is my wife, Olive.”
My mom walks up to us, her eyes looking Roarke up and down. I can tell she thinks he looks familiar but she’s having a hard time placing him. This is how little she notices what happens in my life.
“Nice to meet you,” Roarke says. “Hannah’s the spitting image of you.”
Olive smiles because she doesn’t know who he is—she’d hate to offend someone important.
My dad slaps Roarke on the back. “I was just telling Hannah the other day how I’d wished we got to you before Todd did.”
I roll my eyes. Roarke glances my way for a second before returning his attention to my father with a condescending smirk on his face.
“You’re the lawyer.” My mother says it as though it was a test and she got the right answer. “Todd’s lawyer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Roarke nods.
She half smiles which I know means she’s mentally trying to figure out how much money he might be worth. He wasn’t born into money but having money is better than not having it in her world.
“Please don’t call me ma’am, just Olive.” She smiles fully now, probably figuring that Todd would only hire the best and she’s probably conjured up some memory of hearing one of her elitist friends mention his name.
She slides her arm through mine. “He’s very handsome,” she whispers and leads us forward through the double doors.
Roarke and my dad follow behind, their own conversation turning to golf where I hear Roarke admit he started late in life but loves the game. Funny since not once has he told me he was going to play golf and we’re in the middle of summer. Another lie?
For the next two hours, Roarke charms my parents along with their friends. We eat brunch where my mom criticizes my selection of fruit and pancakes. “Sugar is bad and then you’re adding carbs on top of that. Come on Hannah, you’re only getting older and I’d hate for you to lose that figure.”
My savior or the one he wants me to believe he is, piles his bunch of grapes onto my plate. Surprisingly my mom quiets down and concentrates on her friend’s conversation about the house for sale on Hillside.
When Roarke excuses himself to use the bathroom, my mind gears up into overdrive wondering if he’s making a call to his side piece. My dad takes the opportunity of Roarke’s absence to share his opinion.
“Keeping secrets little girl.” He slides his arm onto the back of my chair, keeping the conversation between the two of us. Not like the other people care, they’re all wrapped up in talking about what the markets are doing.
“I didn’t think it mattered. I was going to wait until the next event.” I nod in my mom’s direction. “This is probably better anyway.”
“Definitely better. He seems nice. Like a good man. Is that so?”
I know why my dad’s asking. After Todd, my dad insisted I do a background on anyone I planned to get serious with, and I didn’t follow through with Roarke. Maybe because everything was going so fast and I felt like I never had time to breathe, let alone check him out.
“I’ll find out soon,” I assure him.
He raises his eyebrows. “You should have checked that out before your heart was invested.” His matching brown eyes to mine hold disappointment.
“Who said I was invested?”