“They’re the only ones I want to be in, in case I haven’t made that clear yet.”
Finn blows out a laugh before growing quiet. “You know that what Spencer said wasn’t true, right?”
“Which part?”
“You’re not a bitch. And there’s nothing wrong with going on dates. His anger toward you stems from his own insecurities.”
I smooth my hand across his back, leaning impossibly closer. “I know. He’s not the first man I’ve dealt with who doesn’t know how to deal with a successful woman.”
And he won’t be the last. Not by a long shot.
Letting my eyes wander, I can see the gold-topped tables beside the stage emptying as guests stand and gather their coats. Victor’s currently shaking hands with an unfamiliar man and flashing a grin that I’ve seen a thousand times. It’s his selling smile, the kind he reserves for when he knows he’s about to get a hefty deposit in his bank account.
Graham’s a few feet away, sipping from a half-full glass at one of the empty tables. His deep navy jacket is draped over the back of his chair as he reclines and examines the clients still drifting through the ballroom. When he spots Rowena, his gaze lingers before carrying on.
My boss has been moving through the room like a woman on a mission all night. I don’t think I’ve caught her sitting for longer than a few seconds to chat with someone before she was rising and finding another target. She’s exactly who I aspire to be. The type of woman whom I looked up to as a child and dreamed of becoming in my teen years. Her work ethic is one that I based my own on. I’ve done everything possible to make her proud.
And she is.
That reminder is what’s helped me quiet the nagging voice in my head that’s been urging me to follow her lead all night. It feels wrong not to go person to person introducing myself and mingling with the firm’s clients in hopes that they’ll remember my name long after the night is over instead of just my boss’.
For someone who’s spent the last nine years revolving her entire orbit around her career, it’s harder than it looks to push all of that aside and try to realign myself. Then I remember that I’ve already risen higher than I expected in half the timeline. The hours I’ve put in locked away in my office and the courtroom wins that get shared firm to firm far exceed any amount of sweet talk I could make tonight.
While this was supposed to be a night to network and expand my client base, I can’t find it in myself to part from Finn. Not yet, anyway. For now, the fake smiles andhow are youscan wait. I’m capable of making a name for myself without working a room full of rich, successful men whom I know I’d need to prove myself to just to garner a smidge of appreciation.
The potential gossip and grumbled judgment from those who don’t know me doesn’t bother me right now.
“I think it’s sexy how confident you are,” Finn admits, his lips ghosting the tip of my ear.
“That’s because you’re not like everyone else. You’re different.”
“Different,” he repeats, and I can feel his grin against my cheek.
“You’re not intimidated by me because you’re confident in yourself. You don’t see my wins as your losses. Me having a career that I love makes you proud, not worried that I’ll choose it over you. And I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that. So . . . thank you.”
His fingers press deeper into my softness, grounding me. “I’m so proud of you, Bree. And I’ll always be your biggest cheerleader.”
“I hope you know that I’m proud of you, too. I’m not always at your games to scream for you when you get a strikeout or wear your jersey to show off how badly I love you, but I never stop wishing that I could be. You’ve never put pressure on me to travel with you or take more time off to attend more of your home games, but if that’s what you want, I can try.”
He shakes his head just once and drags his warm palm up past the low back of my dress to my bare skin. I shiver. “Don’t start with that. I don’t need you to sit in the stands to know that you’re thinking about me or that you’re proud of how I play.Yeah, I love seeing you in my jersey, but I’d rather have you wearing it at home so I can take it off of you when I get home.”
Heat trickles up my throat as I press my lips to his jaw. Want pools in my belly. Thinking about him coming home from a game to find me waiting for him, wearing nothing but his jersey and a coy smile . . .
“And when it comes to travelling to my away games, I don’t need that. You can keep my bed warm instead, alright? I want the scent of your shampoo on my pillows and your lotion on my sheets so I can smell you every night that I’m back home. As long as you let me hear your voice while I’m gone, we’ll be just fine.”
“How do you have the right answers to everything?”
“Because you’re mine,” he states simply.
And I believe him.
“What if Iget gravy all over my dress?” I ask.
The string lights hanging off the front of the hot dog truck are lit tonight when Finn snags our containers from the window and hands mine over. My stomach hasn’t stopped growling since we left the gala. Finn wasn’t stingy with his donation to the woman’s shelter, and I can still see Spencer’s beady little eyes glaring at us when he heard about it.
I didn’t expect him to take us here before we went back to my place, but I can’t think of a more perfect ending to our night than being right here with my best friend.
“Then we’ll get it dry cleaned. Don’t argue, baby. Just eat your hot dog while the cheese is gooey.”
