“I think you’re missing someone?” Victoria says, noting that Dean is not with her.
“Hey, if he thinks I need a jacket in case it gets cold then he can wait at coat check.” She thumbs behind her.
Dean walks in handsome as ever in his tuxedo, looking a tad on the exhausted side.
“I’m trying to make sure you don’t get a cold.” His long strides bring him to us in no time at all.
If I’m not mistaken, there is the smallest hint of baby bump. Anyone who didn’t know how flat her stomach was before the pregnancy wouldn’t even notice. But in her tight gold dress, I can see the beginnings of her baby bump.
“Ladies. Gorgeous as ever.” Dean kisses both our cheeks.
“Hey!” She smacks him in the stomach.
“You know where you stand.” He kisses her cheek, then his lips travel to her ear and he whispers something.
Once Chelsea stops giggling, he asks, “Where’s Reed?”
I’m sure he’s anxious to get out of our girl squad.
“In the black room with Jade.” I motion with my hand behind him.
He claps his hands rubbing them together. “A black room. I feel like I’m in college again.” He ventures off and Chelsea rolls her eyes.
Why do I miss having a man around to roll my eyes at?
“My hands are itching without anything to do,” Victoria says.
The two of us laugh. “Let’s get a drink then,” Chelsea suggests, even though she’ll be sipping on water all night.
“Perfect,” I say, thinking I could use a little cocktail comedown at the moment.
The three of us head to the bar with about ten minutes to spare before guests will start arriving. I can only pray that Roarke isn’t one of them.
Chapter Thirty-Three
All the guests are seated and I’m at the podium after introducing Chelsea and Victoria. The video advertising the RISE program is about to play when my voice catches in my throat when I spot the tall man winding through the tables.
Roarke slides into the seat next to mine. The one that was reserved for him but was supposed to have been moved to a different table.
“Please enjoy the…video.” I step away from the podium, and the spotlight moves off of me. “Chels,” I bite out.
“I saw.” She cringes.
“Why is he at my table?”
She shakes her head. “I have no idea. I know I put him at another one.” She bites her lip. “I know I’ve been a little out of it, but that is a detail I definitely didn’t miss.” I believe her. Part of me wonders if Sonya did it. God knows she thinks he walks on fucking water.
The video continues playing and it’s time for all of us to take our seats. Since we’re all at different tables, I’m stuck having to go sit next to him.
“You sit with Dean. I’ll sit where you’re at,” Chelsea mumbles, continuing to head to my table.
I grab her arm at the last minute before it would look suspicious. “You can’t. I’m there with half the directors of the school districts.”
Her eyes widen. “I forgot. Well, I could act like you.”
Victoria laughs.
Chelsea whips around. “What? I could.”
“It’s fine. I can totally handle sharing a meal with him.” Leaving them behind, and not really believing my words, I head to my table.
He already has the table laughing over some story he’s just finished telling. Always the charmer.
“Here she is.” Roarke stands, pulling my chair out for me.
“I thought you weren’t able to make it,” I whisper through a smile in case the rest of the table is watching.
“Oh, you’re forgetting that last favor.” He smiles tucking me into the table.
Situating himself next to me, he places his napkin back on his lap.
He looks good. Damn it to hell does he ever look good in a tux. Forcing myself to be altruistic where he’s concerned is going to be difficult.
As the rest of the table busies themselves with salad dressings and bread baskets, I lean in his direction. “Do not ruin this night for me, Roarke.”
His shoulders lose the strength they always perceive. “I would never do that. If you’d give me five minutes, we could put all this behind us.”
“And do what?” I smile at a woman across the table from us.
“Start where we stopped.”
I pivot in my seat to look at him fully. “You don’t get it—”
“Hannah sweetie, you are stunning tonight.” An elderly wife of the director of Chicago Public Schools diverts my attention from Roarke.
I smile so as to not alarm her there’s anything amiss between myself and the man on my right. “Thank you. I do love your dress.”
She nods, proud as can be. “Thank you. It’s rayon, much to my daughter’s chagrin. She keeps on getting me to dress different but my philosophy is the outside doesn’t matter. It’s the inside. What’s in here.” She pats her heart. “I don’t need to spend an absurd amount of money to look sophisticated and cultured. People can find out who I am when they take the time to speak to me.”
I admire her, so completely comfortable in her own skin.
“I think that’s wonderful. Hard these days to not fall into the trap of looking like everyone else.”
Gwen comes to mind as I hear her laugh from three tables over. Talk about another woman who could care less what anyone thinks about her.
“Now? Can you imagine what it was like when I was growing up? They wanted us dying of heatstroke in a kitchen. I told Earl there’s no way you’re going to shut me up. If you want to try it, then don’t show up to that church to marry me. I have a voice and I’m going to tell you when your thinking is jackass stupid.”
I purse my lips to keep from laughing.
“Oh, go ahead and laugh. My granddaughter thinks I’m crazy, but guess what?”
I find myself leaning forward, waiting for her to tell me a secret.
“She’s the strong one. Left her husband last year with three kids under four. He tried to hide his income so he didn’t have to pay so much in child support, but she had all the documentation. She knew how to get into their 401K, how much they had in stocks. I like to think if I didn’t raise her mom to have a mind of her own, she might have not known to make sure she was involved in their financial affairs. Love is beautiful.” She eyes Roarke and tilts her head to the side. “But it’s also blind. Sometimes you get hit over the head with a sledgehammer and you have to be able to retaliate. What’s important is how quickly you get up, don’t you think?”
I smile at her. “I do.”
“And remember you are worth perfection. No one is perfect but whoever wants to win this.” She points to my heart. “Should be striving for perfection.”
Why do I get the feeling like she’s talking more about me now than in general terms?
“Now you have to treat them with the same respect by letting him in. Trusting that you’re in it together. There’s no Cinderella story, but there’s no reason why a prince and a princess can’t slay those dragons together now is there?”
“Oh Eloise, stop babbling on about love,” her husband says from beside her.