“Thanks,” she tells me.
The skirt of the dress slides around her ankles as she sits. I shut the door, walk around the front of the vehicle, and get in behind the wheel.
We pull away from her building.
For the first part of the drive, neither of us says a word. I keep my eyes on the road and on the mirrors.
I’m trying not to notice how good she smells. Holy shit! It’s pulling at my dragon under my skin. The beast is up and sniffing.
I focus on the road.
We hit the long stretch where the streetlights start to thin out, and I clear my throat.
“Couple of things before we get there.”
She turns her head toward me. “Such as?”
“You need to stay with me at all times. If you need to use the bathroom, I will walk you to the door. If you need to step away for a phone call, I’ll walk you to wherever you’re going to take the call. If anything feels off, you tell me immediately. It doesn’t matter how silly it seems. I want to know.”
“Are you sure?—?”
“I’m not done. Hear me out, please.”
She closes her mouth.
“If we get separated, I don’t want you to leave the main hall. I need you to stay in the room with the most people in it, and you call me…immediately. I take it that you have your cellphone?” I look at her tiny purse.
She nods.
“Good. There will be staff doors at this venue that lead to service corridors. I don’t want you in any of them. Are we clear?”
She lets out a small breath.
“This is overkill.”
“It’s precautionary but necessary. I will be discreet. I’ll be the perfect date. You have nothing to worry about.”
Her mouth twitches at the corner. “Yeah, but you aren’t exactly my date, are you?”
“No.”
“Right.”
“For tonight, though, it might be easier if everyone in there thinks I’m your date. The minute they hear bodyguard, they’ll start asking why. They’ll wonder if there’s been a threat. You don’t want them concerned about anything on the night they’re supposed to be writing checks.” I glance at her. “I don’t mind, either way. I’ll go in as whatever you want me to be. Just tell me what works for you.”
She thinks about it for a second.
“I think it would be best if everyone thought you were my date,” she says. “The last thing I need is the donors thinking the island isn’t safe.”
“Agreed. Date it is.”
“Please keep in mind that I have a job to do. This event funds half of our annual budget. It’s a big deal.”
“I will. Like I said, I’ll be the perfect date.”
“Then we’re good.”
I take a left into the Old Quarter. The streets here are narrower, lit with those fake old lanterns the city put up a few years back. The function venue is at the end of a cobbled drive, set back behind a low wall and a sweep of tall trees. There’s a valet stand at the front, two males in white shirts with little red bow ties, and a velvet rope cordoning off the main entrance. Photographers are off to one side, with the flash of a camera going off as we pull up.
