“You’re not going to get an apology from him,” he whispers as his father stalks away.
I grin. “I guess. I won’t be getting a job with Arnold Adams, will I?”
“No. I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“How did you turn out so wonderful?” I ask before I think about how the words might come across. I had just told him he should date other people if he’s ready for a relationship.
“My mom is great. You should meet her sometime.”
“I can see where you get your sternness from, though.” I laugh.
His eyes roll, pulling me closer to him by my waist. “Is that what you want, Mia? Someone stern?”
My eyes flit between his. I like him stern, but the last few weeks he’s relaxed more and more around me and it’s been…nice. Like he trusts me with his private life when his privacy isso important to him. He’s supported me, helped me, encouraged me. Stern isn’t really the right word for him. He’s deviously considerate, as if he knows more about you than you realize. He has all these Mia facts stored away, and he pulls them out of the filing cabinet at exactly the right moment. It’s both unnerving and exhilarating. He’s so accomplished, and I’m just starting out. And I won’t lie, being defended like that has me squirming in the best way. His hand sits heavily on my waist, and I don’t want him to let go.
“Nah, I think I like you just as you are, Alfie Adams.” I pull at the lapels of his tux and run my hands down his chest, my eyes dropping down to his lips. One kiss would be enough to scratch the curiosity itch I’ve been feeling all these years, wouldn’t it?
He hums in approval. “And what’s that?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Maybe. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone’s opinion so much before,” he murmurs, swaying me to the music as his hand strokes down my hair.
“You’re incredibly caring, with your patients, but with your friends too. You joke around, but you love them.”
“I do. Despite how annoying they are.”
I smile. “You want the best for everyone, even if that means putting yourself in batshit crazy situations.”
“Those situations were all very calm and controlled until you entered the picture, Miss Sinclair.” His voice is low and gravelly against my ear.
“But were you having fun before?”
He pulls back, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Fun?”
“Yes, dummy. People do it to bring some joy into their lives. It’s good for you; you should try it more.”
He stares at me a little longer before he runs his thumb over my bottom lip like he’s considering my suggestion. Theballroom is buzzing, drinks are flowing and the lights seem to have dimmed, creating an illusion of warmth and coziness in the grand room. Maybe it’s not the room at all. Maybe it’s my proximity to Alfie, my boss, my friend…maybe he’s something else entirely.
His hands move and his fingers reach the back of my head, intertwining with the stands of my hair. It’s slow, methodical, his thumb kneading in the soft flesh of my neck, like he thinks I might jump back if he moves too quickly. How can I tell him it’s all I’ve thought about for months,years?After everything he knows about me already, everything I’ve told him, he’s right. I am scared. I’m practically panting at being so close to him and we’re at a networking event. How much power do I think he has that he could do something here? My palms start to sweat as they grip his lapels, I can feel eyes watching us from all around the room. The silence between us is torturous. Just when I feel like I can’t stand a second longer, he speaks.
“For the record, I’m only having fun with you, Mia.” He takes a shaky breath. “You might think you’re not ready to explore this, but I am. I hope you know that.”
Chapter Seventeen
Alfie
“How have things been going since I saw you last Wednesday, Nate?”
He leans back on the couch, his arm hugging the back. One foot is resting on top of his thigh, he’s the perfect image of relaxed. But I know him. Usually cocky and confident, Nate’s hiding something, and we play this cat-and-mouse game until he gives up his secret right at the last minute of our appointment. Each week our sessions feel more and more like a game where the rules change depending on his mood.
“Nothing much to report. Although…” he pauses for his trademark dramatic effect, “I’m interested in someone.”
“And how is that going?”
“She isn’t aware of my intentions yet. But she’s been flirting back; I can tell she’s interested.” His mouth curls into a predatory grin.
