“But I have a son. His name is Derek. He’s five. He’s got a long life ahead of him, and maybe someday, cancer won’t take him the way it took his grandfather. Maybe there’s a future where we can live without hearing that deadly word. Or maybe there’s a future where we can delay it until a ripe old age—when we’re ready to go. It’s my goal to make that happen, and this award honors that fight, the fight so many are facing as patients, the fight doctors and researchers are facing as soldiers.” He grabbed the award and held it up. “Thank you.”
Once again, people rose to their feet and clapped. The applause was louder than it’d been before, so loud I wouldn’t be able to hear words spoken directly into my ear. I got to my feet and clapped as I watched him move through the crowd, watched him come closer to me, watched him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I’d never had a favorite client, but I did have my least favorite ones. But now I knew he was my favorite, the one I looked forward to seeing the most, the one I wanted to help the most.
The one I cared about the most.
It was a quiet ride home.
He left the award in the empty seat between us, his hands on his thighs again, his gaze directed out the window.
I grabbed it and examined it, seeing his name on the base. My thumb brushed across the elegant statue, feeling the grooves of his name engraved into the material. “You were great up there.” I returned the statue to the leather seat between us.
He kept his gaze out the window.
“Did you make up most of that on the spot?”
He turned his head toward me, widening his knees a little farther, his muscular thighs long and toned. “Yes.”
“You made my speech better.”
“You made mine better first.”
A slight smile moved onto my lips. “I’m sorry about your father.”
His eyes softened slowly, as if the mention of the subject still bothered him. “It gets a little easier in time, but it’s the kind of wound that just won’t heal. Sometimes it scabs over, but then a memory will pop into my head, and I’ll pick at it…and bleed all over again.”
That was the best analogy for grief I’d ever heard.
“How’s your mother?”
He dropped his gaze again. “She’s okay, but she’s never really been the same. My parents were together since they were teenagers. If he hadn’t passed away so young, she probably would have passed away shortly afterward.”
From a broken heart. “Is she in California?”
He nodded. “But since my brother is moving out here, she’s coming too.”
“Well, that’s nice.”
“Yeah…but then Derek won’t have any family from my side there.”
I had to get Valerie out here. I’d tried to persuade her first, but if that didn’t work, I’d pull out the big guns.
He faced forward again. “You made that whole thing a lot easier…” He never actually said thank you. He said it in his speech, but never in any other scenario. “I’m glad you gave up your Friday night.”
I’d just be home eating a frozen burrito. “I didn’t mind. I’m happy to support you.”
“I’m surprised you knew who everyone was.”
“Because I do my research.” I’d figured out who was going to be there, so I had something to discuss with everyone. It allowed me to fit in pretty quickly.
“Yeah…guess so.” A slight smile crept over his lips.
It was the first time I’d ever seen him smile…or show a form of a smile.
He looked even more handsome.
He turned away and glanced out the window again. “I can drop you off on the way.”
I didn’t let anyone see my apartment or know my address. It was just a good way to keep some distance. But I didn’t care if Deacon knew. “Thanks.” I gave the driver my address. “He can drop me off after you.” I didn’t want Deacon to be out later than necessary because of me. Traffic was bad right now.
“It’s fine,” he said as he looked out the window.
The driver pulled up to my building minutes later, which was a dump compared to Deacon’s luxurious lifestyle. I wasn’t ashamed of what I had because I worked for every dollar, and I still had more than most people in Manhattan. I could afford a one-bedroom without roommates, with a full kitchen and my own washer and dryer. And I lived in a nice neighborhood.
So…I considered myself pretty damn well off.
I turned to Deacon. “I’ll see you—”
He got out of the car.
I’d expected him to sit there and pull away the second I was on the sidewalk. I got out on the other side.
Deacon stood with his hands in his pockets, looking up and down the sidewalk to check our surroundings. Then he turned to me.