A gasp tears from my throat as Connor strokes over my pulse with his other hand. Heat pools in my core at his words. “But, don’t you have to be seen? They’ll wonder where you went.”
“Don’t care. Not when you’re making sounds like that while standing within reach,” he rumbles, tracing the strap of my dress, slipping his finger beneath it. “No windows separating us.”
How can that simple touch steal my breath and make my thighs squirm together? He watches me closely, granting me a wicked, devious grin. He knows exactly what he just did to me.
“You’re so pretty when you blush.”
“Connor, it’s good to see you.” A portly man with a whiskery white beard interrupts us. He holds his hand out for a shake and Connor takes it. I watch him slip on a mask, playing his part of supportive son. “What’s next for your mother? D.C. I hope. There’s a Senate seat that will open up once her next term on the council ends.”
“She only wants to serve Ridgeview’s residents and do her best for them right now,” Connor says with a laugh I know is for show.
I hope that’s the truth. To distract myself from over-analyzing last night, I spent a few hours researching the legislation his mom passed. What I found didn’t impress me. Given the choice, she’s not someone I’d vote for.
“And who’s the lovely lady you’re with?” The man takes an interest in me.
“My girlfriend, sir. I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse us. I see someone I was told to speak to.” He inclines his head at the portly man. “You know how these things go. All hands on deck to woo the purse strings into bigger donations.”
The man throws his head back on a laugh. “Too right.”
Connor steers me away and we run right into Maisy’s parents.
“Chief! Looking sharp,” I say.
“Thea,” Mrs. Landry says in surprise. “Darling, you look beautiful! I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Oh, yeah. Maisy didn’t say?” Chief Landry shakes his head, gazing past me to Connor, standing behind my shoulder with his hand planted firmly on my waist. “This is my boyfriend, Connor. His mom is Councilwoman Bishop.”
“We’re well acquainted,” Chief Landry says, coughing when his wife elbows him.
He and Connor share a look.
“Well, have fun tonight, kids,” Mrs. Landry says, ushering the police chief away.
It’s deceptive at first glance, but Connor keeps himself between me and anyone we mingle with during the cocktail hour. I don’t really get why, since I’m supposed to pose as his girlfriend. He won’t let anyone talk to me for long, masterfully but abruptly extricating us from conversations when they get too prying.
When we sit down in the next room for dinner, he pulls my chair out for me. The room drips in splendor, with circular tables covered in white tablecloths and place settings more suited for a ball rather than a political charity fundraiser. This event pulls out all the stops.
Connor doesn’t seem surprised as he takes his seat next to me. His parents are already at the table, Mrs. Bishop nodding as Damien leans over to speak in her ear with a tablet in his hand. He appears to be running the show as one of Mrs. Bishop’s high up staff members.
“We’ll do the speech between the soup and main course. Any later in the meal and I’ll lose their attention and their wallets.”
Her calculating demeanor changes as soon as the other guests who purchased plates at our table arrive.
“We went all out for you this year, Madam Councilwoman.” It’s the man with the white beard from earlier and he’s taking his seat next to me.
Connor stiffens.
“Charles, it’s an honor,” Mrs. Bishop says. “Your support of the campaign is wonderful.”
Connor leans close to me. “Friend of my granddad’s.”
As Charles sits down on my other side, Connor hooks his hand beneath my chair and gives it a subtle yank so my seat scoots toward him. Mrs. Bishop clears her throat across from us, spearing Connor with a pointed look.
Dinner goes on like that, peppered with awkward moments and tiny rebellions from Connor. His mother is doing a scary good job of keeping her cool. It’s almost like Connor is pushing her to see how far he can go before she loses it.
I think it backfires, because all she’s done is give me another taste of how she’s polite but horrible while they have an audience.
“Charles, has Connor mentioned his plans for next year?” Mrs. Bishop asks as we finish the soup course. “Ivy bound. Maybe he’ll be giving your company a run for its money in a few years.”
As Charles chortles, he bumps against my chair. He keeps doing that and Connor doesn’t like it. “Is he now? Of course he is. Spitting image of your father; I’m sure he’s got a mind like his as well.”
“What about you, dear?” It takes a second to realize Mrs. Bishop is addressing me. “Is it state school for you?”
“I haven’t applied yet,” I say.
“Mom. Don’t you remember?” Connor laces his fingers with mine when I take his hand beneath the table. He brings our hands on the tabletop so they can all see us unified. “We’re getting serious. I fell for the girl next door and finally got her to fall for me after nursing my longtime crush. I’m not about to let her go. Thea and I will get married after graduation and move to Paris for a year. She wants to study from the best pastry chefs. After that, we’ll travel. Do humanitarian work.”
For a second my heart takes a vacation until I remember tonight is fake. I swallow back anxious laughter.
“How romantic,” one of the other table guests coos, about to swoon at Connor’s steadfast declaration.
“Married.” Mrs. Bishop might as well have said drink sewer water with that tone. “I’m thrilled to hear you’re so committed to each other. And at such a young age.”
God, she’s just like my mom.
“I’m always thinking about the future, like you wanted,” Connor says. He tilts his head and peers at me. “Always.”
“Wonderful. You can apply to Oxford for a year abroad, then.”
The tension at the table almost chokes me. Thankfully, Damien appears at Mrs. Bishop’s elbow and she leaves to give her speech. Connor holds my hand through it all, stroking my knuckles.
My head is spinning by the time dinner ends. I slip off to the restroom to freshen up. When I come out, a man with a press badge is in my face.
“Can I get a quote? You’re here with Councilwoman Bishop’s son tonight.”
Connor materializes at my side, hand resting at the small of my back. “She is. What’s your question?”
The reporter motions for a photographer hovering by a potted fern. “The policies your mother supported in the last year cut back on the education budget for Ridgeview. As students, how do you feel about that?”
“Oh, I was reading about this earlier. I think—”
“Those policies were put forth by the mayor,” Connor says, polite but bland as he cuts me off. When I pinch his side, he deftly maneuvers me into posing for the camera with him. “Will that be all? Great. Bye.”
As he guides me away, I dig my heels in and walk over by the coat check. The clerk is on break, so we’re alone, shielded from the crowd by tall decorative plants.