Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
The ticket was scanned, and I was given a fancy-looking gold-printed and embossed certificate that had to be placed on the dashboard. I was told where to park and then waved through. I could only imagine if it took this long to get in how long it was going to take to get back out. It would be hours, and Hannah was obligated to stay the entire time, since she was one of the hosts, along with her uncle.
Speeches and crowds and standing around—I could slip into a coma even on my feet. It was going to be an excruciatingly long night, and bonus, I got to deal with a therapist trying to ask me probing questions.
I should have called in sick.
Once I parked the car, I got out, scanned the perimeter quickly, and held the door open for Hannah, and she stood there, waiting, until the doctor was out behind her. After locking the car, I turned, put a gentle hand on Dr. Butler’s back to get him moving, and once they were both in front of me, having put on their masks, we started toward the elevator.
When Dr. Butler turned to look at me, I was struck again by the color of his eyes, that dark, clear gray, and noted the blond hair shot through with strands of platinum. Handsome man with long, lean muscles.
“What’s your sport, Dr. Butler?”
“I’m sorry?” He nearly walked into Hannah, who had stopped to wait for him, and I reached out and kept him from bumping her.
“I bet you’re a runner.”
“I am. Yes. How did you know?”
I shrugged and then looked at Hannah. “What?”
She was staring at me from behind her sequined black mask like I was some new species of bacteria she’d just discovered.
“Hannah?”
“I—there’s supposed to be someone here to—oh, here she comes.”
A woman and two men came rushing up to us and informed Hannah that she looked stunning in her sleek, fitted tuxedo with a white shirt underneath and patent stilettos. I had suggested she wear pants since the first week of November had arrived rainy with a chill in the air. It wasn’t cold-cold yet, not arctic as it got in the city in the winter, but she would have been shivering in a dress. No reason not to be comfortable, even though it was a semi black-tie event. I had no idea what that even was until she explained. It meant that yes, you could wear a tux, but you didn’t have to. A suit would work, which was why I was in a navy suit and Dr. Butler was in a black Hugo Boss.
Hannah explained that Dr. Butler was her plus-one, and everyone knew who I was already. Lots of people there had bodyguards, so I was basically ignored.
There was a red carpet to walk, the high-society of Chicago descending upon the Chicago Hilton, the event being held in their Grand Ballroom, that was filled with chandeliers and mirrored accents and had seating for eleven-hundred people but would have about half that number this evening.
Mr. Sutter was already there, greeting people at the entrance to the hall where the silent auction items lined both sides and led, then, to the ballroom, and Hannah was going to simply join him, but he shook his head and pointed to where the carpet began outside. Fortunately the rain had stopped for the moment, but the entire walk was covered just in case. I stepped to the side, and Hannah slipped her arm through Dr. Butler’s to lead him.
The man looked ashen.
“Remember to smile with your eyes,” I teased him with a waggle of eyebrows. “You don’t want people to think you have a stick up your ass.”
That didn’t help, and Hannah shot me a murderous glance before she began to wave, turning on her dazzler under her fancy mask. What people would have seen were perfect white even teeth and the adorable dimples, but since she was in fact masked, they saw her big dark eyes crinkled in half. She waved to the crowd the entire way down the carpet and stopped to talk to reporters and explain quickly and succinctly what the fundraiser was for.
I rejoined them when they finally reached Aaron Sutter and his husband, police commander Duncan Stiel.
Stepping in beside my boss, Miguel Romero, who was there along with four others to guard the billionaire, I waited while Hannah hugged her uncles, and Dr. Butler, who must have met them at some point previously, probably at her house, shook hands with both men. Then she turned, passed me her clutch, and took her spot to the right of Duncan.
“You can follow this lovely lady,” Hannah told Dr. Butler, pointing at the woman who had met us before we got on the elevator, “to our table and sit, or go get a drink at the bar and then find the table once everyone is seated, or––”