Victorious Vice (Bellamy Brothers #6)

19. Raven

19

RAVEN

I t’s not difficult to smile at Vinnie.

He’s Vinnie, after all. He may have left me, but I don’t for one minute believe he doesn’t love me. He may have a beautiful young woman on his arm—more beautiful than I could ever be—but I still believe he has feelings for me.

Why else would he be here tonight?

He certainly didn’t have to shell out the three thousand dollars per plate to get a last-minute ticket to the gala.

But he did.

He did it for me. To support my endeavor.

That’s what I choose to think, anyway.

When we talked, his date wasn’t with him. He didn’t mention her, and I didn’t mention her either.

None of my business, after all.

I did my best to paste on a smile and treat him like any other potential donor. I’m a better actress than I thought.

I make my way through the crowds, stopping to chat to individual donors and other guests. With warm gratitude, I take many large checks that are given to me.

Raven’s Wings is doing well tonight. My heart bursts when I think about the many people we’ll be able to help. The research we’ll be able to fund.

At some point, I have to figure out which one of these guests is Mr. Smith, the person who gave me the fifty million dollars. I want to pull him aside discreetly and thank him, but I haven’t been able to locate him yet.

“Ms. Bellamy,” a voice says.

I turn to face Dr. Landon Michaels, the oncologist who agreed to sit on our board. I recognize him from the photo on his website.

“Dr. Michaels”—I take his hand—“it’s such a thrill to finally meet you in person. Once again, I can’t thank you enough for being willing to serve on the board to lend your expertise.”

He smiles warmly. “When you called me, I couldn’t say no. I believe in what you’re doing here.” He scans the crowd. “Your sister and your attorney have been wonderful to work with, but”—he looks back at me—“I know working with you will be even more of a pleasure.”

I nod. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”

He looks me up and down. “If you don’t mind my asking, which physicians treated you?”

“I don’t mind at all. I was privileged to be treated by several amazing physicians, Dr. Leonard Smith and Dr. Victoria Jensen among them.”

“Both excellent in their field,” Dr. Michaels says. “I’m so glad they were able to get you into remission.”

“Yes, so am I.” I chuckle nervously. “But unfortunately standard treatment didn’t work for me. I actually owe my life to my brother Falcon. He donated the blood marrow that saved me.”

“You mentioned that in your speech.” He clears his throat. “Would you care to dance?”

My hands become clammy. Dr. Michaels is a nice-looking man—light-brown hair with a little bit of silver around his temples. Lovely green eyes. And tall. I like tall men.

His shoulders aren’t as broad as Vinnie’s. And his facial features aren’t as sharp, as rugged.

But screw Vinnie. He has his own date. The dance floor is beginning to fill up, and the string quartet is playing a waltz. Later, a DJ will come out to play more contemporary tunes.

I hate myself for it, but I do a quick scan of the room to see if Vinnie is within eyeshot. He’s not on the dance floor. In fact, I don’t see him or his date. I turn back to Dr. Michaels. “I would love to dance with you, Doctor.”

I let him lead me to the dance floor. I put my right hand into his left and place my left hand on his shoulder, while he slides his right hand around my waist and pulls me closer than I’m comfortable with.

I step back just a touch.

He seems to get the message.

I know how to waltz, but my goodness, it’s been a long time.

It comes back to me quickly, and Dr. Michaels is a fluid dancer and an excellent leader. I’m proud that I don’t step on his feet at all.

I catch a glimpse of Jared standing on the edge of the wall, watching me like a hawk.

And then my brother, Hawk, also watching me like his namesake.

Falcon and Savannah are dancing, as are my mother and father.

Robin is dancing with a man I don’t recognize. She didn’t come with a date, so good for her.

Eagle is still sitting at the table, his hands folded together. He looks uneasy. I’ll never stop worrying about him.

Leif Ramsey is on the dance floor with his beautiful wife, Kelly, a fiery redhead.

Dr. Michaels and I don’t speak much, and when the dance ends, I give him a smile. “Thank you.”

“May I get you a drink?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’m keeping my alcohol consumption to a minimum. Although I have to admit those prickly pear margaritas look amazing.”

“I’m not much for sweet drinks,” he says, “but since it was the specialty cocktail of the evening, I tried it. It’s actually on the tart side. Quite delicious. Are you sure you can’t try at least one? Doctor’s orders?”

I sigh. “You know? I will try one. Thank you.”

He leads me to one of the bars where the line is only two deep at this point. Once we get to the bar, the bartender smiles at me. “Ms. Bellamy, what is your pleasure?”

I open my mouth, but Dr. Michaels speaks first.

“A prickly pear margarita for the lady, please. And I’ll have a Macallan, neat.”

“Of course, sir.”

I’m a little taken aback. I don’t particularly like men speaking for me. Dr. Michaels is probably trying to impress me.

The bartender prepares my margarita and hands it to me. I take a tiny sip.

Dr. Michaels is right. It is tart. A good tart, with just a touch of sweetness, and then of course the smokiness of the tequila.

“Delicious,” I say.

“Thank you,” the bartender says as he slides Dr. Michaels his glass of scotch.

“Obliged.” Dr. Michaels hands the bartender a fifty-dollar bill.

The gala has an open bar. Tips aren’t exactly discouraged, but they’re not required. The foundation will be tipping the bar staff at the end of the night based on the final totals.

But Dr. Michaels is trying to impress me again.

I wish it were working.

“And thank you very much, sir.” the bartender says with bright eyes.

Dr. Michaels looks back at me with a cheeky smile. Yeah. The fifty-dollar tip was a flex.

Then again, Dr. Michaels is a successful oncologist. Perhaps he’s a legitimately generous man, wanting to pay it forward to someone who likely makes a tenth of what he does.

But I’m not buying it. Maybe it’s because my gut is right about Dr. Michaels, or maybe I’m just comparing him to the version of Vinnie I thought existed until a few weeks ago.

He leads me to one of the bar tables and sets our drinks down. He takes a seat.

I’m not comfortable spending any more time with him when I have an entire gala of people I need to talk to.

I pop down in the seat across from him and paste a smile on. “Thank you so much for the dance and for the drink, Dr. Michaels. If you’ll excuse me, I need to mingle.”

“Oh?” He lays his hand over mine. “I was hoping we could spend more time together.”

“You can call my office anytime.” I slide my hand out from under his and stand.

“Better than that.” He gets to his feet. “How about dinner next weekend?”

Way to be put on the spot. I grab my handbag and fidget with it to give me a second to come up with some sort of gentle rejection.

But then I reconsider. Vinnie has moved on. Why the hell shouldn’t I?

“Sure.” I give Dr. Michaels another smile. “That sounds lovely. Give me a call and we’ll set it up.”

“Wonderful. There’s a new Spanish-Asian fusion restaurant I’ve been dying to try.”

I smile and whisk away, only to be stopped again soon by another attendee.

“Wonderful job, Ms. Bellamy. I wish you the best of luck.” The speaker is a man I don’t recognize.

“Thank you so much, sir, and thank you for coming.”

Next, two women stop me. “Lovely time. Please accept this donation.”

I know better than to look at the amount. I simply take the check. “Thank you so much for your generosity. Thank you for being here and for your support.”

Onto the next, as I glance across the room to see Jared with his eyes on me.

And then, a hand clamps on my shoulder.

I turn to see Vinnie.

“Vinnie,” I gasp.

“I need you to come with me, Raven,” he says.

“I’m in the middle of my gala.”

“Please. It’s urgent.”

“The silent auction will be ending soon. I have to announce that?—”

He pulls me away toward the nearest exit.

Across the room I see Jared running after us.

A moment later, we’re inside a small conference room, no lights on.

Vinnie clicks the door shut.

“I couldn’t stay away from you,” he says.

And then his mouth comes down on mine.