Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dove
As the black SUV navigated the gridlocked streets of New York, my nerves increased with each creeping turn. I stared out the tinted windows as the puzzlework of glass-plated skyscrapers and flickering billboards whizzed past. Rambling, I wondered if Deacon knew I was anxious or if he’d suddenly just developed an overwhelming interest in the mating habits of frigate birds. He’d peppered me with ornithological questions for most of the ride and kept asking me follow-up questions that I was happy to blather on about to keep my anxiety in check.
In a momentary lull in my lecture about plumage, Deacon checked his phone and leaned forward to speak to his driver. “Change of plans. We’re going straight to the venue.”
I looked down at my zoo-branded hoodie and sweatpants. I only owned two types of bottoms: khaki cargo shorts and pilling old sweatpants, and right then I wished I’d selected the shorts this morning. “But . . . I need to change and check into the hotel?—”
Deacon’s brows furrowed. “What hotel?”
“The hotel I’m staying in tonight?” I asked. “Luca said he organized my accommodations for me?”
“You’re staying with me,” Deacon balked as if it would be offensive to stay anywhere else.
My stomach curdled at the thought of being alone in an apartment with Deacon, especially with all of the dangerously alluring thoughts I’d been having about him recently. I really shouldn’t have been so flippant about kissing him. There was no way my traitorous lips could be trusted around him now.
“I’m not staying with you,” I said flatly.
“My apartment is right around the corner from the venue,” he countered. “And I have a feeling it will be quite late by the time we leave—especially for an early bird like you. Do you want another half-hour car ride through Saturday night traffic to get to a decent hotel?”
“I don’t mind taking the subway?—”
“You are not taking the subway.”
I scoffed. “Afraid I can’t handle myself?”
“Afraid I’ll have to bail you out of jail at 2 am because you went full rabid raccoon on someone who catcalled you,” he replied with a begrudging smile.
“Damn straight.”
“It’s a three bedroom,” Deacon added. “You can have your own room and en suite just like a hotel, and the kitchen’s fully stocked, and the water pressure is amazing.”
“It will be weird.”
He arched a brow. “I promise it won’t be any weirder than sleeping in an old monkey enclosure.”
I gave him an incredulous look, hating that he already knew what I was thinking. But the idea of Deacon and me being alone in an apartment together made my heart skip a beat. I got nervous and jittery whenever he and I were alone together, but at least then we always had the constant interruption of siblings and publicists to buffer any awkwardness.
But to be truly alone with him . . . It felt like standing on a cliffside and thinking my body might involuntarily fling itself off the edge, but instead I feared involuntarily launching forward and kissing him. Especially after on set the other day . . . Now that I knew how good of a kisser he was, I was bound to trip and fall directly into his mouth, especially if we were alone.
But my protestations were getting less and less robust when it came to Deacon. After the conservation trust fundraiser tonight, he’d stay in New York and I’d take the train home and that would be it. We probably wouldn’t see or speak to each other again except for the occasional board meetings he deigned to attend, if ever. And once I passed the torch on to the permanent director, he and I might never cross paths again. So maybe it wouldn’t matter how weird tonight was anyway.
. . . and I had to admit I was very curious to see what his apartment looked like.
“Luca’s already arranged for your outfit to be delivered to the venue, and the hair and makeup teams will meet us there.”
“Teams? As in plural?” I asked, feeling like a complete fish out of water. What was this life? Did I need whole teams of people to make me look red carpet worthy?
“Your dress has already arrived. I’m doing an Armani campaign right now, so I hope that’s okay?” I just stared at him like he was slowly morphing into a fluorescent green alien. “Dove?”
“Did you just ask me if an Armani gown was okay ?”
He laughed, looking me up and down. “I did. I’m sorry we couldn’t get it fitted, but they have your measurements so it should be fine.”
“ How did they get my measurements?”
Deacon’s smile widened. “I have my ways.”
My mind started wheeling through the memories of the past few weeks, when it snagged on one. “Wren!” I exclaimed. “She said she needed to measure me for a sewing project. That little traitor. Why didn’t she just tell me?”
“I think she liked being an accomplice to Luca’s shenanigans,” Deacon said with a wink. “And if she told you what it was really for, you would’ve freaked out.”
I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “I don’t know how I feel about you being in cahoots with my siblings,” I muttered. “But like, is a dress even necessary?”
“And this right here is exactly why Wren lied,” Deacon jeered.
I let out a little groan. “I kind of thought maybe as director, I should just go in my zoo uniform and a blazer or something,” I said. “It’s more official that way. That’s what Baz Madigan does with his charities.”
“It’s not what his wife and kids do,” Deacon countered. “They are designer brand people all the way.”
I shot him a look. “Keeping up with the Madigans, are we?”
“Stop evading the point I’m trying to make,” Deacon taunted. “If a dress really makes you that uncomfortable, I can make a call and we can pull some other options.”
“A dress is fine,” I conceded. “I suppose I can rally for one night.”
He smiled at me ruefully. “Being my date is a great hardship, I know. I appreciate your sacrifice.”
“I just want this night to be perfect and for the trust to raise a bunch of money and for us to save a ton of wildlife and for me to not embarrass myself or you or my family or the Prickle Island Zoo legacy or?—”
“Whoa.” Deacon took my hand in his, threading his fingers through my own. “I know you’re not a big fan of the spotlight, but it’s going to be great,” he assured me, squeezing my hand. “More importantly, it’s going to be fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I gave in, letting out a nervous breath as the car pulled into an underground parking garage flanked by security guards.
“Just pretend it’s only you and me.”
I offered Deacon a weak smile, not telling him that imagining that would only make my nerves a million times worse.