I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, worrying it back and forth, vision beginning to blur when a large frame slides into my view.
Grayson stands firmly in front of me, using both hands to gently wrap around my neck, tilting my chin up with his thumbs. “Look at me,” he says, his voice both firm yet gentle. “Ignore the room behind me. Up here, sweetheart.” My eyes fly from his chest to his face, where I’m met with his gorgeous crystal eyes, and I release an exaggerated, rattled breath.
“There she is,” he whispers, his grip on my face nearly the only thing holding me upright. “You’re going to kill it tonight, Holly. Your speech is perfect, it’s emotional yet shows how goddamn smart you are. It shows how much you care. I see it, everyone in this room will see it.” When he looks at my face and sees that I’m not buying it, he adjusts his stance. “Want to make a plan?”
My heart thuds once; my chest nearly ripping open at his sentiment. “Yes,” I whisper, and he releases his hold on my face, letting his hands fall down my arms to grip my hands.
“First, we are going to walk over to the bar and get a glass of champagne. We’ll probably need one to calm the nerves. Then we’ll work the room, make small talk with rich strangers, and I’ll tell them how equally smart and beautiful you are.” I chuckle a little at that thought, and I can see Grayson’s lips twitch in a smile. “Then it’ll be time for you to go up on that stage, give your speech, and have this entire room salivating over you. We’ll eat some overpriced steak, and I’ll probably snag a few desserts.” He squeezes my hands quickly, ushering for my full attention. “Now, here comes the most important part of the night. After all that is done, and the crowd is on their feet for you, you’re going to come home with me, and I’m going to spend all night showing you just how much I like you.”
He emphasizes the word like again, just as he did in my apartment earlier. I like Grayson too. I like him more than I ever expected, more than I ever knew was possible. I like him more than I ever liked Geoff, and at one point in my life, he was a man I was willingly going to marry. I cringe a little internally at that, but when Grayson leans in to press his lips to mine, my hands reach up to rest on his sides, and I can feel the last bit of nerves leave my body.
“Thank you,” I tell him once he pulls back. I reach for his hand, clasping it in mine and tugging him gently intothe room. He follows suit, releasing his grip on my hand to protectively drape his arm around my lower back. He guides me through the crowd of people, most who I don’t quite recognize. I make sure to keep eye contact, to smile politely and gush my hellos when necessary. When we reach the bar, I turn around to survey the room.
The first part of the night is cocktail hour, where we can sip champagne and specialty cocktails and mingle with the crowd. The administrator will then introduce me as the keynote speaker, and I’ll give my speech right before dinner, just as Grayson said. I’m not sure exactly what the rest of the night entails, and frankly, I don’t care. After I do my part, and treat my man to the food and drink, we can sneak out of here and go back to Copper Ridge to Grayson’s house—the only place that I feel like I belong anymore.
That thought should surprise me, yet somehow it doesn’t. I spent the first eighteen years of my life in Chicago. I’ve traveled to countless cities across the globe. Des Moines has a few hundred thousand people, and it’s where I’ve lived the last ten years of my life. I’m no stranger to an event like this, and I attended swanky cocktail fundraisers with my parents starting in my teen years. But as I look around, mentally tallying the amountof money that was spent to host an event—one where we ask for money—is laughable.
A glass of champagne is placed in front of me and I spin, surprised to see Grayson holding a glass of his own. The skinny crystal is dwarfed in his large palm and a laugh bubbles out of me. “It looks like a child’s glass,” I tease, leaning into him.
“You know I’m a big guy, sweetheart.” He brings the glass to his lips, and I watch every movement, remembering where that mouth was just half an hour ago.
“Thank you, Grayson,” I whisper, turning into him so only he can hear. “I know this probably isn’t your ideal way to spend the evening, but if you weren’t here…” I trail off as the bartender walks by, waiting until she turns and is out of sight again before I speak. “If you weren’t here, I don’t think I could do this.”
I keep my face twisted away from the crowd, pretending that there is something incredibly interesting on this side of the bar that’s keeping my attention. Grayson's hand curls around my elbow, and he gently tugs, ushering for me to face him.
He raises his hand, gently brushing a piece of hair that’s falling from my clip and bringing it over my shoulder to lay with the rest. “A place like this isn’t where I thrive, I’ll admit that.”
My heart sinks a little, realizing that as uncomfortable and out of place as I feel right now, Grayson probably feels that even more.
“But,” he continues. “It’s no bother at all to be somewhere I don’t like, as long as I’m with you.”
My eyes flick up to him at that, and he’s peering down at me.I love you,I want to whisper. I’m so in love with him that I want to march up to the stage and announce it over the microphone for the entire room to hear. He leans in, brushing a brief kiss against my lips. He starts to pull away, and my body itches to chase the kiss, to lean into him to pull one more, but then I feel a figure approach from my opposite side, and I lean back, grimacing when I see who approached.
“Geoff.” I nod my brief hello, doing my best to keep my face as flat as possible. I’m surprised to see him standing in front of me right now, but I refuse to let him see that. Geoff’s grandfather is one of the richest men in Iowa. He made his fortune in seed genetics after partnering with a startup company when he was much younger. The company took off, and his family has profited from it. Geoff “works” for the family empire, but most of his time is spent at the bars schmoozing clients. He never attended these types of events with me in the past, so it hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d see his slimy smile so soon.
“Holly,” Geoff says, leaning in as if he has the audacity to try to kiss my cheek right now. I pull away, taking a step further into Grayson, and offer out my hand in a professional shake. He stumbles, face nearly fuming from the fumble. He quickly recovers, reaching out to shake my hand once, before he turns to Grayson.
I can see his cocky attitude in play, how he tries to break Grayson down with his analyzing stare, the brief squint of an eye, the cock of a brow. He raises a hand to brush invisible lint off of the pocket square tucked into his suit coat, and I move closer to Grayson, resting a protective hand between his shoulder blades.
“Grayson,” I say, tilting my head up to face him. “This is Geoff … my ex. Geoff, this is Grayson, my boyfriend.”
The two briefly shake hands, Grayson dwarfing Geoff’s in his, as expected.
“What are you doing here tonight, Geoff?” I can’t help but ask.
Geoff runs his tongue over his front teeth, cocking a brow at my firm expression. “Grandpa is a sponsor for the event. His company probably makes up half of the room.” He looks around with pride, as if he has anything to do with that.
“Well, that’s great for him. I hope he’s open to supporting the cause.”
Geoff stands awkwardly, alternating stares between Grayson and me with sips of his whiskey.
“Well,” Grayson says, clasping my hand firmly in his. “Nice to meet you, Greg, if you’ll excuse us.” He nods politely, moving us to the opposite end of the bar and out of earshot from Geoff.
“Greg?” I ask once we’re a few steps away. Grayson smirks, peering over to wink at me.
“I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”
I bite back a laugh, leaning my head to rest on his shoulder. God, I love this man. So calm and cool in front of my sleazy ex. The strong support I need on a night like this.
