“Relax,” he said. “It’s intentional.”
“That part I figured out,” I replied dryly. “The part I’m struggling with is why.”
He turned toward me fully then, his expression shifting into something more serious. “I’m going to teach her a lesson for messing with you.”
I frowned.
I studied his face carefully, trying to determine just how dramatic this “lesson” was going to be. With Callahan, it could range anywhere from mildly humiliating to devastatingly brutal.
“Callahan,” I said slowly, “the ball is for charity.”
“I know.”
“And you're planning revenge.”
“Also true.”
I tilted my head. “You see how those two things might clash?”
He laughed quietly, clearly enjoying himself far more than he should.
“The press will be there,” I continued, crossing my arms. “Photographs, interviews, donors, society people pretending they care about saving the world while sipping champagne.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with how charity balls work. Don't worry, it won't get leaked by the media,” he clarified calmly. “Everything will happen after the press takes their photos and leaves.”
“So whatever you’re planning won’t happen until after the cameras are gone.”
“Exactly.”
“And you’re certain it won’t interfere with the charity itself?”
“Completely.”
I watched him for a few seconds longer, weighing his answer. The event had taken months of planning, and the last thing I wanted was for anything to ruin it. But if everything he planned happened after the official coverage ended, it wouldn’t technically affect the ball itself.
Finally, I sighed. “Well… as long as it doesn’t negatively affect the event, I suppose I can’t object.”
His smile widened slightly. “Good.”
I shook my head, curious about what he had planned, but knowing Callahan rarely shared details until the moment arrived.
“You’re being very mysterious about this,” I said.
“Patience,” he replied lightly.
Before I could question him further, he reached for me. His hand slid gently to the back of my neck as he pulled me toward him, and his lips met mine in a deep kiss.
Everything else faded away.
The room.
The conversation.
Even the lingering curiosity about Christina.
It was just him and the warmth of his lips against mine. The kiss was slow and deliberate, the kind that made it difficult to remember what we had been talking about seconds earlier. When he finally pulled back, I found myself blinking up at him.
“I have to go into the office for a bit,” he said.
