“André Webster of Webster Properties? One of the trustees of the university?”
“Surprise.” André’s blue eyes twinkled, and a dimple appeared in the crease of his cheek. Chess could’ve fainted from embarrassment. Or swooned from the man’s sheer sensuality. He managed to find his voice.
“I-I thought you were a waiter.”
“Which leads me to believe it’s high time to change my tailor. I obviously need a better-quality tuxedo.”
Chess snorted, and heat rose in his cheeks. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I’ll let you gentlemen speak. It was nice to see you again, Martin, President Turcotte. Mr. Webster, it was nice to meet you, and thank you for keeping me company.”
He walked away and found several colleagues he’d spoken to during his orientation. He greeted them, making casual conversation for a while. He spotted André Webster with other high-ranking faculty members, and their eyes met. Webster smiled and winked at him. Chess’s cheeks burned, and he turned away. With a glass of champagne in hand, he wandered over to the spread of food and nibbled on a few hors d’oeuvres, planning to slip out the door as unobtrusively as possible.
“To whom do I complain about the sad state of affairs of the cheese?” André Webster’s deep voice whispered in his ear, and Chess’s lips twitched.
“I couldn’t say.”
“Well, then maybe you’ll say yes to having dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” A thrill of anticipation shot through him. “When?”
“Now. I’m dying of boredom, and the only interesting part of the evening was talking to you. I’d like to continue that, but in a much more romantic setting.”
“Romantic?” Chess licked his lips. “Isn’t that coming on strong, considering we don’t know each other?”
“I plan on changing that tonight. I have a feeling you’re going to be the last man I ever ask on a date.”
The implication of his words shocked Chess. Without protest, he allowed André to take him by the hand and lead him out the door. They entered the waiting limo, Chess acutely aware that André still held his hand.
As in almost all his business decisions, Chess learned, André proved to be right. After that first dinner at an unassuming restaurant tucked away in Tribeca, they’d become inseparable. That was almost nine years ago.
Shaking off the memory of that night, Chess asked, “How’s Margery?”
He and André’s mother had an odd relationship. Though she was always pleasant to him, he never felt completely at ease with her, as if she saw right through his facade. Of course she didn’t—no one did, not even his best friends—but it bothered him that she always introduced him as André’s friend, never partner, as though she didn’t want to give him equal weight in their relationship. Occasionally he’d ask André if she ever mentioned him, and André’s response remained the same:“She’s never said one bad word about you.”
Which told him almost nothing. She’d never said a good thing either. On the opposite side of the coin, he and André’s father, Corbin, had forged a wonderful relationship and would spend hours discussing books, politics, and the world. When he’d passed away, the pain of his loss was real, and Chess had felt like he was losing a father all over again—only this time, it was someone who truly cared about him.
“She’s fine. Same as always.” André finished his bottle of water and yawned. “I need to take a nap and then shower. We’re celebrating the signing of the deal with the new investors, and I want to be fresh for all the interminable speeches. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”
“Love you too. Enjoy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Doubtful. I’ll have to put on my I-love-being-here face, when all I want is to be on a plane, coming home to you.”
“I have faith in you. Just give them that special Webster charm. And you’ll be here soon enough.”
André blew him a kiss and pinned him with heated eyes. “That’s reserved for you, love. Once I’m home, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Looking forward to it.”
The screen turned dark, and Chess closed the laptop. His phone rang, and seeing Elliot’s number pop up, he smiled and hit Accept.
“Hey. How’s it going?”
“Good. What’re you up to today? Feel like coming with me on some research?”
Chess left the bed and padded across the spacious master suite to stand in front of the set of three windows overlooking Central Park. That sweeping view still left him breathless, even so many years after he’d moved in here.
“Depends. What’re you researching?”
“The best dumplings in the city. I’ve already taken Win to Flushing in Queens and Chinatown in the City, so I’m ready to hit up Sunset Park and Avenue U in Brooklyn.”
