Chapter 14

The Sentinel Hotel is one of those places I’ve driven by a multitude of times, mostly on my way to the famous Powell’s Bookstore that’s nearby, but I never thought that I’d actually be walking through the lobby of the restored classic hotel.

“There’s a red carpet,” I murmur as Thomas and I arrive in the limo he’s arranged for tonight. “You didn’t mention a red carpet.”

“Well, there will be VIPs from all over the Tri-City area,” Thomas informs me. “We make enough of an impact on the state that the governor wants to keep us in the loop.”

He doesn’t say it, but I can hear in his tone that he doesn’t really like these events. I adjust my glasses and take his hand.

“If you can do it, I can do it.” I get out and glance down. “Still, I didn’t think the carpet would actually be red.”

The cameras are almost blinding, and I’m shocked that so many people would be interested in taking photos of Thomas. Not that he isn’t the hottest guy in like, the entire universe, but he’s no sports star or actor or anything. He’s a businessman, and a relatively private one at that.

“Why so many photogs?”

“The governor’s looking at angling for a national presence next election,” Thomas whispers as I take his arm and he stops us to pose for a few seconds before leading us on. “It’s why he wanted this on a Friday. It’ll be too late for the local coverage, but he figures he can get on the weekend news cycle, get invited onto Meet The Press or News Sunday or something.”

I nod, still sort of awestruck as I recognize some of the celebrities in attendance. Sports players, some movie stars, but Thomas doesn’t seem all that out of his element. When one of the sports players gives Thomas ‘the nod’, I’m surprised.

“You know that guy?”

Thomas smiles a little, giving the guy ‘the nod’ back. “Yes. He runs a charity for kids in Portland. I helped out some last summer. Decent guy... terrible cook though. He served up more bricks at his barbecue than he did all last season on court.”

I don’t really know what to say, just chalking it up to the growing wonderful mystery that is Thomas Goldstone.

Holding onto his arm tightly, though, I walk with him upstairs to the fourth floor, where I’m stunned by the opulent room we walk into.

Thomas notices my gawking.

“The Governor’s Ballroom,” he says as he also takes in the scenery. It’s beautiful. White-fluted marble columns flank each of the huge windows along the walls while inlaid decorations and a rich mostly blue carpet make the whole space look like a European palace. There’s even a quintet of classical musicians, a string quartet with a French horn adding their tones to the whole surreal experience.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, ignoring whether anyone’s looking as my head goes on a swivel, trying to take in everywhere at once. There are people, music, and even waiters with drinks and appetizers mixing through the room. I snag a flute of champagne, and Thomas follows. “I knew Damien was like a fairy godmother, but now I truly feel like I just walked into a fairy tale.”

“Too many people for a fairy tale,” Thomas whispers, giving me a smile that makes me blush as he toasts me. “And though Damien may have worked some magic, the beauty has been in you all along. He simply let you see yourself the way I do.”

I blush, dipping my chin and unconsciously shaking my head. I know I look good tonight, had even stared at myself in the mirror in disbelief for more than a few minutes after Damien and his team had left my apartment, but Thomas’s bold words lay my insecurities bare.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I see at this party. Take a moment and look around again... you’ll see that I’m right.”

I do look around, but as I do, I feel even more like a fish out of water. The women all look stunning, but it’s more so that they have an air of confidence and comfort in this environment, something I lack even if I’m decked out like one of them tonight.

But Thomas never even glances at them except when they greet him, and in every conversation, he makes sure to include me.

“Mia, this is Willa,” he says, introducing me to a famous local TV anchor. “We met years ago when she interviewed me for a piece about Goldstone. Willa, Mia’s the best data analyst I’ve ever met. She’d put three-quarters of your stock market people out of work if she wanted to. However, she has one significant flaw.” He pauses dramatically, giving me a sly smile. “She has terrible taste in men, which is how I’ve found myself lucky enough to accompany her tonight.”

“I see.” She raises an eyebrow, giving me a smile that’s warm, but at the same time, I can see her mind working because it’s a look I wear myself quite often. “I love the hair and glasses. Just the right touch of uniqueness at a cattle call like this. Please tell me they’re not non-scrip?”

“Nope, I can’t see a thing without them,” I reply, relaxing a little that she’s not putting my odd choices down. “If I didn’t have them on, I couldn’t tell you from Beyoncé.”

She laughs. “Well, rest assured I won’t be busting out in song and dance moves, so if you see Beyoncé, let me know and I’ll squeal with you.” She smiles, and despite the perfect face, the telegenic smile, and the look that’s been practiced so long it’s probably second-nature to her, Willa seems to be not that bad. She points in the general vicinity of my head. “The streaks are a great look on you. So how long have you known Thomas? I met him for a profile piece I was doing for the station.”

“I, uh... I work in the company, but we just met recently,” I reply, not sure how much Thomas wants everyone to know about our situation. But when I glance at him, he’s smiling easily.

A man comes by and pats Thomas on the arm, whispering in his ear for a moment, and Thomas nods. “Of course... Mia, if you’ll excuse me, the governor would like to have a word with me. Back in five minutes, ten at most.”

“Okay,” I reply, and Thomas disappears into the party. As he goes, Willa smirks, and I turn to her, lifting an eyebrow. “What?”

“He’s into you,” she says, grinning. “Really into you.”

“Why do you think that?” I ask, trying not to shy away. Thomas wouldn’t want me to, and after all the work I’ve done this week to prepare for this thing, I plan on keeping the empowered feelings that started Tuesday rolling. “He needed a date for the event, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. He’s been showing up stag for these snore fests for a while now. I don’t see why this one would be any different,” she replies, nodding as though she’s putting the pieces together. She must see the look of panic on my face, though her words delight something deep inside me. “It’s okay. I’m not working tonight, so it’s all good. But the main reason I can tell is the way he talks to you. He’s actually... nice. It’s like you tamed the monster. You’re the Beast Whisperer!”

I blink, trying to think about the way Thomas and I talk to each other. I guess I’ve seen it with him grilling the team, and he started out that way when he called me to his office that first time, but since then, he’s always been... Thomas.

Willa notices I’m not quite following and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, please,” she says, snorting. “The reason he left you with me is because he’s going to have to deal with the governor, and Thomas is... mercurial around people like that. When I went with him to one of these things three years ago, purely professional as part of that profile, he had no problem showing me that he’s three-quarters asshole, one-quarter genius.”

“No, I know what you’re saying, and I’ve seen that side of him,” I counter. “I mean, he basically put me on blast in our first real meeting.”

“And yet you’re still here tonight? Gutsy.” Someone calls her name from across the room, and Willa turns, raising a glass. “Excuse me. It was a pleasure, Mia. Good luck.”

She leaves, and I’m left confused. Good luck? Good luck with what? Thomas? I would chalk it up to cattiness, but she sounded totally honest and heartfelt in her words.

“Maybe it’s just the TV side of her,” I wonder aloud, sipping my own champagne and wiggling my nose at the bubbliness. “Or maybe she meant something else.”

Slightly disturbed, I try to set aside my worries and just enjoy the party, not gawking too much at the luxury and splendor around me. I’ve always prided myself at being levelheaded and not so shallow as to get wrapped up in all the fine clothing, expensive jewelry, and fancy décor, but I can’t help it when it’s on display like this.

“Papa would be so surprised to see me right now,” I murmur as I start playing a mental game of ranking the hierarchy of attendees. It’s perhaps a bit tasteless, but it’s the way my mind works, finding patterns in the randomness. Actually, it’s interesting, seeing the generational trends of couples grouped by age, race, and even flashiness of jewelry.

“Mia!”

I turn, surprised when I see Randall Towlee approaching. Like many of the men, he’s wearing a tuxedo. And while Randall looks good, he’s still a pretender compared to Thomas.

“Randall, this is a surprise.”

“Stepfather’s a state assemblyman,” Randall says, nodding toward a rather rotund man in the group near the governor and Thomas. “So I get a mandatory invite to all of these sorts of events. I think he wants me to follow in his footsteps.”

I nod, unsure what to say next. Since his failed attempt at asking me out, he’s sort of avoided me, except for one meeting on the hospital team, and that was strictly professional. And I’d love to think he’s let the whole thing go, but there’s just something in the way he looks at me that tells me that he’s not giving up after being rejected.

“You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.” That feels safe enough, platonic and common for this environment, even if I’d squash him for commenting on my appearance at the office.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks boldly, lifting an eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors, but...” He lets the syllable linger, like he wants me to ask him exactly what he’s heard.

“Thomas asked me to be his date,” I answer him, trying to sound confident but casual. “I didn’t want to make a deal about it at work.”

“Oh, I can understand that,” Randall replies, and though there’s not malice in the words, it feels like a bad dream coming true. Like I can see the moment where he loses respect for me and I have to remind myself that his perception is his problem. I haven’t changed and neither has the quality or content of my work.

At that moment, Thomas returns, his face cloudy but clearing when he sees me and I smile back.

“Hello, Thomas.”

Never mind, the clouds are back. “Randall, didn’t think your father would invite you to something so... dry.”

“Oh, this is exactly the type of thing he loves for me to attend,” Randall says, grabbing a champagne. “He says that it’s events like this where I’ll learn how politics really work. I keep telling him I’m not interested but... well, you know how family can be.”

Thomas’s eyes tighten, but he gestures with his head. “Of course. If you’ll excuse us, Mia, I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

We walk away, Randall giving us a little salute with his champagne as we go.

“Thomas, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect him here, and when he asked—” I rush to explain.

“You said you’re my date,” Thomas finishes for me. “Good.” His soft smile reassures me that I did the right thing. It’s funny. When it’s just the two of us, everything feels right and easy, but in the stress of this room, these unfamiliar expectations are getting to me.

There actually is someone for me to meet, the president of a small computer manufacturing company in the area. We get into an interesting discussion about computer systems, nerding out over processors, RAM chips, video cards, and more. By the end, I somehow feel like I’ve just placed an order, and as Thomas leads me away, I look at him out of the side of my eye.

“What was that?”

“That was you meeting someone I felt you’d have something in common with,” he says with a smirk. “You’re definitely not his typical customer, but I’m sure your enthusiasm made his evening.”

“Who is his typical customer?”

“The alphabet soups,” Thomas says, chuckling again when I look at him in confusion. “DEA, CIA, FBI, IRS, FDA, all those government agencies that take big names and shove them down into three little letters. He makes high-speed, high-security computers for them. And if he starts recruiting you to steal you away from me, I’ll have to make sure the alphabet types step in to help.”

It’s a bit outrageous and possessive, but it makes me laugh.

The governor gets on stage to make his speech, and while it’s short, I immediately see what Thomas means about how he’s angling for national attention.

About halfway through the speech, out of the corner of my eye, I see Randall, who’s watching me intently while drinking another champagne, totally ignoring the speech.

“What’s the deal with Randall? I didn’t know his stepdad’s a politician.”

“It’s part of the reason I hired him,” Thomas says mysteriously, clapping at a line in the governor’s speech that I’ve totally missed. “He wants to make his own way, and his ambition is... useful. I just have to remind him from time to time that I don’t care who his family is, whether he was president of his frat in college, or who his father knows. I just need him to give me his best effort.”

The governor finishes his speech, and things sort of morph into that cocktail party that everyone’s seen in a dozen movies but up until this moment, I’ve never actually thought I’d get to attend.

“This feels a lot like my high school prom,” I tell Thomas at one point. “Although the band’s a lot better.”

He chuckles and takes my hand. “Then how about a dance?”

He leads me into the center of the room, where a sort of nebulous dance floor has emerged. The lights are dimmer here, and as I take his hand and put my other one on his shoulder, I’m glad I’ve spent the past week working with these high heels. There’s no way I’d be able to do this comfortably otherwise.

“Uhm, Thomas? I can’t dance for shit,” I whisper. “I can’t even macarena.”

He laughs lightly at my candidness, a deep rumble in his chest that reverberates in the space between us.

“Just follow my lead and relax.”

His touch on my hip is strong but gentle, and as we weave in and out of the half-dozen other couples out here dancing to something jazzy and classical, I let him take control of me.

Moving our bodies together just feels right, and my heart starts to race, my body flushing as I look up at him. His eyes burn with an inner desire, a fire that tells me that if it weren’t for the few hundred people in this ballroom right now, he’d have no problem claiming me right here in the middle of the dance floor. I almost want it to happen.

“You’re having naughty thoughts,” he says, pulling me closer. “Want to share?”

“Not if you want to stay for the rest of the party,” I tease. “Let’s just enjoy this and see what happens after that?”

As soon as our dance ends, someone approaches us, requesting Thomas’s presence again.

He looks to me questioningly, and I tell him to go. I’m a big girl and can mingle at a party.

I decide to go over to the refreshment table, thinking that I’ll either get some stimulating conversation with the small group working their way around the table or at least some delicious food. My stomach is rumbling, and I’ve barely had a cocktail shrimp all night. I grab an hors doeuvres I don’t recognize but that looks pretty, and I almost have it in my mouth when Randall approaches again.

“You looked beautiful out there on the dance floor. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask for my own turn.”

“Sorry, Randall,” I reply. “But no, thank you. I’m here with Thomas.”

“And that’s twice now he’s left you to do what? Schmooze?” he asks, stepping just inside my personal space zone. “You deserve better than a rich bastard who’ll use you and desert you.”

I’m surprised at his nerve, both presumptive and erroneous. But mostly just ballsy as fuck, considering Thomas is his boss. And like Willa said, he’s quite known for being an asshole.

“Randall, let me be clear. I enjoy our professional work relationship, but that is all I’m interested in,” I reply, turning away to scan for a familiar face... ideally Thomas, but I’d take Willa or Gene, the computer guru. I’m walking that line, the one between where I tell Randall off in a blaze of glory that’ll definitely draw some unwanted attention at a soiree like this and the one where I can control my urge to slap the shit out of him.

And then I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to him in anger, my palm itching.

“She said to leave her alone,” Thomas says out of nowhere before I can give him a piece of my mind, his voice rumbling just below a roar.

Randall turns, his own eyes flashing as he goes nose to nose with Thomas. They’re nearly the same height, both athletically built, but the rage flashing in Thomas’s eyes is like a force of nature, even as Randall stares back, his own ego making him stand up.

I think they’re about to come to blows when finally, blessedly, Randall remembers himself and yields.

“Just entertaining Mia. You know how awkward these events can be when you don’t know anyone and your date disappears on you.”

The barb is supposed to be sharp, but Thomas doesn’t flinch. His voice is a quiet version of his reputed ‘blast’.

“Randall, she said no politely. At this point, I’m both concerned about your personal ability to accept a decline and your professional responsibility to recognize harassment. Where she has been nice, let me be clear. Mia is mine.”

The threatening tone in Thomas’s voice is clear, and Randall recoils as if he’s been slapped. But then his eyes narrow shrewdly, and when he speaks, it feels false and sycophant-esque. “My apologies, sir. I didn’t realize it was quite that serious.”

Something in the way he says it makes me think that all of this was just to get that admission from Thomas, and I wonder what Randall plans on doing with the information.

I’m suddenly foreseeing a whole host of judging eyes glaring at me on Monday after Randall spreads the news of how I spread my legs for the boss. It’s not like that, or at least it doesn’t seem that way to me, but I have no doubt that Randall will make it sound as seedy as possible.

Randall steps back, turning to leave, and Thomas watches him before he looks at me. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to Roseboro is confusing. It’s not even an hour, but neither of us says anything as I look out the window, the lights flashing by as my mind tries to make sense of it all.

What had Randall hoped to gain by still hitting on me? I turned him down clearly at the office, and he should have seen in our first talk tonight that I’m not interested.

But then Thomas saying I’m his. He didn’t say it like I’m his date but like I’m his. Like I belong to him, a possession. It should turn me off, but instead, as I look across the bench seat of the limo at him, I’m tempted to climb into his lap and see if we can do a few more movie fantasy scenes in the time we have left.

I shake my head, trying to figure out what I’m feeling beyond lust, when we get off the Interstate and we’re back in Roseboro. Thomas looks over at me, his eyes calmer but still that fire burning in them as he looks at me.

“We’ll be back at your apartment soon.”

I clear my throat and suddenly make a decision. Though tonight was odd, with more going on below the surface than I was prepared for, I desperately want Thomas right now. There will be time enough for analysis and evaluation, but right now, I’m going with the time-honored tradition of following your gut. “You want to come up?” I ask, reaching over and taking his hand.

He doesn’t even think about it and without answering reaches forward, hitting a switch on the control panel. The partition to the driver drops down, and Thomas rumbles. “Change of plans. You’ll be dropping both of us off at the first location.”