Chapter 12
Twelve
T he cocktail hour flowed seamlessly into the dinner, announced by a soft chime of bells rung by the event’s staff. Guests made their way through the wide doors of the dining hall, where round tables draped in cream-colored linens were arranged beneath a ceiling of exposed wooden beams. The centerpiece of each table was a towering arrangement of evergreen branches, pinecones, and gold-dipped roses that shimmered under the light of dozens of hanging lanterns.
Noah pulled out Ruth’s chair for her as they reached their assigned table. She murmured a soft “thank you,” her voice tinged with unease. The warm glow of the fireplace softened the atmosphere, but it did little to calm the knot tightening in her stomach as she scanned the table.
As they settled in, Noah’s shoulder brushed lightly against hers, a steadying presence she didn’t realize she’d need so much. Across from them, Blake and his wife radiated warmth and charm. Claire’s vivacious laughter filled the space as she adjusted the neckline of her sleek black gown, her quick wit complementing Blake’s easygoing demeanor. Beside them, Dylan and his wife offered a stark contrast. Margaret exuded understated elegance, her silver hair styled in an impeccable chignon, while Dylan’s cool, appraising gaze seemed to weigh everyone’s worth against an invisible scale.
“Noah, every year one of the associates wins a seat at the head table. Ruth won this year’s pool,” Margaret explained.
Noah turned and winked at her.
To Noah’s right, Melanie was glowing, clearly thrilled to introduce her boyfriend to everyone. Luke’s slightly awkward smile and rigid posture belied his flawless cover as a supportive partner to Melanie. He seamlessly engaged in light conversation, deflecting any probing questions with a charming blend of politeness and humility.
Ruth’s focus shifted to Matt Brandt as he approached the table. Her stomach dropped as he arrived with his date, Jenna. The glamorous local newscaster’s poised demeanor and dazzling smile couldn’t quite hide the discomfort in her eyes. Matt’s grip on her arm seemed more possessive than affectionate, his loud introduction drawing attention he clearly craved.
“Ruthie!” Matt’s voice carried across the table as he grinned at her. “I was wondering where they’d seat you. Lucky us, huh?”
Ruth forced a polite smile, though her hands tightened in her lap under the table. Noah’s hand brushed hers briefly, grounding her. He murmured, so low only she could hear, “I’ve got you.”
Matt’s grin faltered briefly as he noticed Noah seated beside her, his arm resting casually on the back of her chair. His gaze settled on them for an uncomfortable moment before he slid into his seat across from them, Jenna trailing behind him. The falsely bright smile he had worn on the bus ride earlier returned, but there was a sharpness to his eyes that wasn’t there before.
“Ruthie.”
Ruth’s teeth clenched at the nickname, her fingers tightening around her napkin. If I could launch this wine glass at Matt Brandt’s head and get away with it, I absolutely would. Instead, she forced her expression into something neutral, though the tension in her shoulders was undeniable.
“Ruth doesn’t miss a beat,” Blake Ellison said smoothly, jumping in before she could respond. “Her dad would’ve been proud.”
The mention of her father softened the moment, her irritation with Matt momentarily buried under something else. She managed a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ellison.”
“Blake,” he corrected, nodding. “And it’s the truth. You’ve been a star since day one, Ruth. I’m glad to see you take a little time for yourself every now and then.”
Dylan Grant’s voice cut through the warmth like a blade. “Potential only goes so far. Focus is what makes the difference. Ruth knows how to keep her priorities in check—or at least she should.”
Ruth inhaled sharply, willing herself not to react. Oh, for God’s sake. Dylan’s problem wasn’t with her; it was with Noah. It was all posturing, a way to remind everyone where the power lay. Noah’s fingers brushed hers under the table—quick, subtle, steadying. She exhaled slowly and met Dylan’s gaze with cool indifference.
Noah spoke before she had to. “From what I’ve seen, Ruth’s focus is second to none. I think she’s more than capable of handling whatever comes her way.”
Dylan’s gaze narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, lifting his wine glass in a silent toast before turning to his wife.
Ruth thought she was in the clear—until Matt, half-drunk and emboldened, decided to make himself relevant again. “Of course, Ruthie’s the golden girl,” he said, voice loud enough to make a few heads turn. “Always so perfect, so focused. But don’t let her fool you—she’s not all work and no play, right, Ruthie?”
Ruth set her wine glass down slowly . I swear, if I could roll him into a rug and toss him into the river, I would.
Before she could retort, Noah’s voice cut through the tension, smooth and unwavering. “Her dedication is one of the things I admire most about her.”
Matt’s grin twisted into something colder. He raised his glass in a mock toast. “Dedicated. Sure. Cheers to that.” He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and flagged a server for another.
Jenna shifted uncomfortably. “Matt,” she placed a hand on his arm, “maybe take it easy?”
He brushed her off with a wave, his eyes still fixed on Ruth. “I’m fine.”
Melanie, sensing the shift, quickly jumped in, “You know, Ruth’s secret weapon is snacks. Seriously, her desk is like a gold mine of chocolate and gummy bears. It’s how we survive those late nights.”
Laughter rippled around the table, and Ruth seized the opportunity to steer things away from Matt’s passive-aggressive nonsense. She smirked, tilting her head. “It’s called morale-boosting,” she said lightly. “And Melanie raids my stash more than anyone.”
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Matt drawled, his tone suddenly possessive. He swirled the remnants of his latest drink, watching her like he was waiting for a reaction.
Noah’s voice was calm, but the steel underneath it was unmistakable. “She is. And she deserves respect.”
Matt smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Relax, man. Just making conversation.”
Ruth finally turned her full attention on him, leveling him with a cool, unbothered stare. “Oh, is that what that was?” she asked sweetly. “Because, from here, it looked a lot like a drunk man embarrassing himself.”
The corner of Noah’s mouth twitched. Blake exhaled a quiet chuckle. Even Dylan’s gaze flickered with something amused.
Matt’s smirk faltered for half a second before he forced out a laugh. “Still got that bite, huh?”
Ruth smiled. “Just enough to make sure you don’t forget it.”
Matt scowled, muttered something under his breath, and turned back to his drink.
Ruth lifted her glass and took a slow sip. If I can’t roll him in a rug and throw him into the river, at least I can shut him up.
The first course arrived, a delicate smoked salmon mousse on crostini. Conversation shifted as Blake and Claire began asking Ruth about her latest case, their genuine interest putting her at ease. Ruth recounted her work with poise, her confidence growing with each question.
* * *
As the main course arrived—filet mignon, chicken Dijonae, or Chilean sea bass with roasted vegetables—the mood at the table lightened slightly, though Noah seemed hyperaware of Matt’s simmering hostility. Ruth did her best to focus on the positive energy around her, but Matt’s presence lingered in her stiff shoulders.
At one point, Matt leaned across the table, his voice low but pointed. “Ruthie, I expect you to save me a dance tonight. Or maybe that’s what your… guest is here for?” His smirk sent a chill down her spine.
Noah’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers steadying her trembling ones. “She’s in good hands.” His gaze locked with Matt’s.
Matt’s smirk faltered, but he quickly covered it with another swig of wine, his laugh louder than necessary.
As dessert was served, Noah leaned closer to Ruth, his voice low and reassuring. “You’re handling this like a pro,” he murmured. “But if you need an excuse to step away, just say the word.”
She’d already hit the restroom with Melanie. Ruth exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Noah gave her a small, encouraging smile. “Always.”