“Well the two of you make a lovely couple,” Evelyn murmured, giving my hand an extra squeeze as they made their goodbyes. “We’ll have to have you over to the estate sometime.”
“That would be wonderful,” I answered shyly. It was the first sentence I had managed since the two of them walked over. “It was such a pleasure meeting you both.”
“Likewise,” the mayor clapped Nick on the shoulder with a conspiratorial wink, “you did good, kid. We’ll see you soon.”
“Take care, George.”
They left to make the rounds and Nick turned his eyes back to the fight, but I was still frozen in place. I knew Nick saw me staring at him, but he refused to make eye contact until I actually stomped down upon his foot.
“Ow—shit! What did I tell you about breaking my toes?”
I said nothing. Merely folded my arms across my chest and waited. It only took a second for him to crack. The tops of his cheekbones flushed pink, and he shifted self-consciously.
“Those two have always been a little over-enthusiastic. Blame it on winning the election by eighty-seven percent. Feel free to ignore everything they said. Especially Evelyn.”
I rolled my eyes with a grin.
“You think I don’t know every person on your long list of conquests? I’m your publicist, remember? I probably know them better than you.”
Nick squirmed uncomfortably.
“Then why are you looking at me like—”
“You told them I worked in public relations?” Even as I said the words, I still couldn’t believe they were true. “You told them I had a firm uptown? Why would you do that?”
He blinked down in surprise, before his lips twisted up in an incredulous smile.
“Abby, you realize that of all the people in this room, some of the most powerful people in the world, you’re the only one who’s discovered how to make an honest living?”
I glanced around, trying to absorb the rather massive implication of that remark.
“No...” I began doubtfully.
“Yes.”
I blinked again, taking stock.
“That’s the First Minister of Wales, that’s the Chairman of the FCC...”
His lips turned up with a smirk. “That’s what I’m saying...”
THE REST OF THE NIGHT passed in a similar fashion. Nick hadn’t been kidding when he said that the rich and famous didn’t gather to watch the fight—they gathered to watch each other. It was the perfect opportunity for the two of us to be seen and photographed by all the right people, but in a relaxed setting—one with plenty of movement, and alcohol, and ambient sound.
Considering the way I’d seized up when confronted by the paparazzi out on the tarmac, it was the perfect remedy.
I danced, and drank, and shook hands, and charmed all the right people. Smiling so hard, that by the end of the night, my cheeks ached from holding the pose.
Never once did Nick leave my side. Never once did he let go of my hand. It was as if the two of us were connected by some kind of invisible tether. One that kept us just close enough that we were never out of the other’s sight.
Still, I couldn’t have been more relieved when the whole thing came to an end.
“Well that...was exhausting.”
I slumped against Nick’s shoulder, holding onto what had to be my tenth flute of champagne. He shifted around slightly, so his arm came down over my shoulder.
“It’s the smiling, isn’t it? It hurts your cheeks.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, staring at him in drunken alarm. “How did you know?”