“You have perfect taste. June will just make sure it’s displayed perfectly on the trail.”
Our smiles reach a mutual understanding before she drifts off to check on her other guests.
“Impressive, these Cades,” Joe says. “Thanks for bringing me in.”
“I loved your work in Maryland for the governor’s race. Voter turnout was record-breaking, and I know that was your doing.”
“We’ll do that for Senator Cade and then some.” Joe glances over at Owen and Maxim standing by the fireplace chatting with Howard, our volunteer coordinator. “Quite the one-two punch, those brothers. We’ve got an embarrassment of riches to work with.”
Wallace joins us, a drink in each hand. Joe drifts off to join his wife Erin.
“Here’s your martini, um . . . darling,” Wallace says, handing me a glass.
“Be still, my heart,” I whisper. “That was so convincing. Can’t believe you’re not down on your knees proposing yet.”
“Thanks to you,” Wallace grinds out, “Maxim Cade has been treating me like a pariah all night.”
“And by all night, you mean in the fifteen minutes since we’ve arrived?”
“He’s staring daggers at me.” Wallace demonstrates with a pseudo-scary glare. “Like this.”
My involuntary snort-laugh morphs into a gut buster, which often happens with Wallace. I lean into him, burying my face and chuckling against his shoulder.
“Thanks a lot,” Wallace says, but I hear some answering humor in his voice. “I’m getting even more daggers now.”
“Has he been rude to you?” I glance up at him, still leaning on his shoulder. “I mean since he looked at you like you were a bottom feeder and practically refused to shake your hand?”
“I tried to talk to him about his work with recycling systems in developing countries, and he walked off.”
I wince. “He’s being ridiculous. I don’t get it.”
“I think he heard me say I love you.”
“Which is none of his business. I’m none of his business.”
“You’re going to have to talk to him.” He chews on something delicious-smelling wrapped in bacon. “How long do we have to do this pretend relationship?”
“Would you just shut it?” I glance around to make sure no one heard. “You’re the worst beard ever.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. He’s more likely to believe I’m dating Kimba at the rate you’re going, falling at his feet and shit.”
“I just admire him and would like to have actual conversations with him about real world issues.”
“Would you also like long walks on the beach with him?” I take a much-needed sip of the martini. “Maybe wear his letterman jacket? Date to the prom?”
“If I didn’t love you so much . . .” He fixes a deer-in-headlights stare over my shoulder. “Uh, Maxim. Hi. We were just . . . that new electric car you’re developing. I think it’s great.”
A chilly silence meets Wallace’s comment. I don’t look over my shoulder to acknowledge Maxim.
“Thanks,” he replies to Wallace after a few more frigid seconds. “Dinner’s about to be served. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second, Nix?”
“I don’t think so,” I murmur into my martini glass. “But thanks for the heads up on dinner. Ready, Wall?”
Wallace looks at me like I kicked his puppy for a second and then grits out, “Yes, dear.”
I drag him to follow everyone else into the dining room. Wallace and I are seated at one end of the table with Kimba and a few others from the team. Maxim sits near Cade and Millicent at the other end, and they’re joined by the Cades’ tow-headed twins, both of whom have excellent table manners and infectious laughs. “Uncle Max’s” rich baritone drifts down to my end of the table more than once, punctuated with childish giggles. The shield over my heart almost slips at the sight and the sound of Maxim connected to his family. In Amsterdam, I could tell he missed them. From what I know, his relationship with his father remains strained, but it’s good to see him with Owen’s family.