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She reached over to straighten his bowtie. “You look pretty good yourself.”
The annual dinner was formal, and no joke. Industry brass would be there—those big-name firms that smaller ones tried to emulate. Plus designers, business owners, and vendors. Hell, Reginald London’s firm was presenting Marcus with his award tonight.
“Thanks. I can’t wait to take this thing off.” He reached for the bowtie but she swatted his hand.
“Don’t touch it. It’s perfect. The speech is amazing, Marcus. You’re going to nail it.”
He offered a sickly smile. He wasn’t so sure. He might have nailed it wearing nothing but boxers in his bedroom, but he’d also been focused on earning a naked dance.
“Are you going to tell me what’s the matter?” he asked.
She offered a not-so-genuine smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Dammit, Lily.” He got out of the car. By the time he reached her side, she was out and on her feet. “I know something’s wrong. Tell me what it is so I can help.”
“You need to focus on your speech. I’m fine.” She sent a furtive look left and then right.
“Who the hell are you looking for?”
“No one. I just…” She reached up to fiddle with one earring. “Now that we’re here, I think we should wait before we go public. This is your night. The attention should be on you, not on us as a couple.”
“Lily.” He stepped closer to her. “We’re not celebrities. I doubt anyone will care beyond our circle of friends. I’m not planning on making out with you on stage. If I hold your hand or touch the small of your back, I don’t want you to worry about who might be watching.”
“You bring a different date every year. If I walk in there with you, it will look like…”
“Like you’re my date?”
“Like I’m one of many.”
“Who cares? We know that you’re one of one. I’m here with you this year, McIntire. And I’m proud to be here with you.”
“People talk, Marcus. There will be rumors that I’m sleeping with the Designer of the Year to further my career.”
“Why would anyone care about that?”
“I don’t know. But they do.”
He sighed. “So, what do we do? You want to walk in separately? Leave separately? Should we have a signal?” He touched the side of his nose with two fingers.
“Thanks for respecting my boundaries,” she said drily.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that we agreed it would be tonight.”
Arms over her chest, she didn’t move a muscle. He wasn’t going to win this argument.
“Fine.” He leaned against his car. “You can go in first. I’ll give you a few minutes before I follow.”
“Thank you.” To his complete dissatisfaction, she clipped inside without a single glance over her shoulder.
“There you are!” Joanie. Smiling, happy, lovely Joanie.
Lily’s best friend swished over wearing a royal blue, floor-length gown. Clive, looking dapper in a dark blue-black tuxedo, followed behind his wife, glasses of champagne in his hands.
Joanie gave her a hug and then looked over her shoulder. “Where’s Marcus?”
“Marcus?”
“Yes, Marcus. He’s around six-two, broad build, dark hair. You two work together.”
