Chapter 12 #3
“Sweetheart, don’t make me look cheap.” Mr. Randolph turns to me, his face scrunched like he’s asking for help. “Son, at least let me buy you a steak, so the staff doesn’t think I’m going broke.”
“Not likely with that piece on your wrist,” Prescott chimes in, and I watch as he takes his napkin, lowering it onto his lap.
I look to mine, folded neatly beside my plate, and wonder if I should do the same.
I’m not a complete fool. I know the etiquette, even if it’s not something I’m faced with much, but we haven’t even ordered yet, let alone been served.
Glancing over, I find Paige’s napkin is still on the table, so I stop worrying about it.
“Besides, it’s not your turn today, Boss Man. I already slipped the waiter my card,” Prescott announces. “Lunch is on me.”
“I can pay for my own meal.” I wince at the accusation in my tone, the words tumbling out of me without thought, but there’s not really anything I can say to make it better. And I can pay for my own meal; it just might take a good chunk of what I have to do so.
“I meant no disrespect.” Of course, the guy has to go and look legitimately bothered by the idea, his expression pinched with regret. “I only figured it was fair, seeing as I picked the restaurant, and we sort of hijacked your lunch hour. I’d like to cover it, if you don’t mind.”
I mind…but then again, I shouldn’t be here. This is one of those places that doesn’t even have prices on their menu. That can only be a sign it costs way too damn much.
What does it even matter; my pride is pretty much nonexistent at this point anyway, right?
It’s with that thought that I lift a shoulder as nonchalantly as I can manage, a fake grin in place as I let it hit where it always does—quiet, but heavy. “Only if you don’t make me eat salmon.”
“Thank you!” Paige giggles, lifting her hand for a high five.
It’s adorable, and I meet her hand with my own without hesitation, winking at her as we pull back.
There she goes again, chewing on that little lip.
My mouth tugs up on one side, and I look down at my water, but when my head lifts again, I find Mr. Randolph’s gaze bouncing between his granddaughter and me.
In the end, his attention settles my way, his gaze latching onto my own, but he merely smiles and goes back to drinking his coffee before jumping into a topic with Paige that goes over my head.
We’re halfway through our meal when Prescott shifts toward Paige, his arm stretching out until his fingers press against the back of her arm, right over her bicep.
I glare at where he’s touching her, the move an unnecessary one when he could have simply called her name, but he pulls back as quickly as he reaches out, pinning her with his megawatt Hollywood smile when she looks his way.
Or maybe I’m being an ass about it because I don’t like the idea of him touching her.
“So.” He turns his body so it’s facing her completely, the rest of the table forgotten. “I realize you still have quite a bit of thinking to do, all things considered, but I was wondering…” His words, mixed with that good-boy smile of his, has the nerves in my already-tense shoulders bunching up.
Quite a bit of thinking?
About what?
And how does he know she has something to think about?
“There’s a fundraiser coming up next week, nothing too fancy or complicated,” he continues. “I would really like it if you came with me.”
It takes all I’ve got to keep my face neutral, just waiting to see where this is going. Fundraisers are for work, right? That’s just a part of the game once you get to a certain level? Pretty sure Ari has already gone to a couple with Noah in the last few years.
Wait.
Ari has gone with Noah, her fiancé, to a fundraiser…
Paige tenses slightly. “I have school and when I’m not on campus, I’m at the local youth center giving lessons or making quick trips to Oceanside.”
I note how she isn’t just saying no, that she doesn’t want to go out with him.
Because that is what this is.
He’s asking her out. He said, I’d really like it if you came with me, not It would be good experience for you or I think you’ll enjoy it. He’d like it, he said.
She’ll be expected to wear a dress, and he’ll pick her up outside her dorm, probably with crazy expensive flowers that will just die a few days later anyway.
“That’s okay,” he reassures her, and a heavy breath I didn’t realize I was holding pushes past my lips.
Good. That’s done.
Damn, man, enough. Maybe it’s for the best if she goes with him. Then you can stop this foolish line of thinking.
Maybe I should encourage her to go with him and—
“It’s on the weekend,” Prescott finishes.
Oh, hell no.
My brows snap together so fast, there is no hiding my annoyance.
“Then I most definitely can’t go.” Her baby blues slide my way, a smile blooming on her lips. “My Saturdays are booked, too.”
Do not smirk in victory. You’ve won nothing and this means nothing.
I can feel the others staring at me now, too, so I give her one more second of my attention, wondering if she can see how much I like that answer. A moment later, I casually meet their gazes. “Told you. My loyal little fan.”
Shit. My smirk slipped free, and did I just say my in front of everyone?
Unease starts to spike, but when I look over at Paige, I decide I don’t care.
Her lips seem to have somehow stretched even higher. Lifting her shoulder, she turns to Prescott. “Yeah, sorry,” she says, sounding the least bit sorry.
Hearing that should not feel as good as it does.
Prescott chuckles, completely unfazed, and I kind of hate that. “That’s all right. To be honest, I’m only going because your grandfather here kindly offered me his seat, saying if I was already planning to attend, there was no need for him to go, too.”
“Oh, stop it.” Mr. Randolph swipes a hand in dismissal.
“You know Mariam would not be pleased if you didn’t show up, but I won’t lie and say I’m not happy you’ll be there to deliver the check on the company’s behalf.
” Her grandfather chuckles, dabbing at the corner of his mouth before picking up his coffee.
“I can appreciate that others appreciate the arts, but I’m more of a contract-and-spreadsheets man myself. ”
“Those two things aren’t even in the same category.” His sidekick grins.
“Exactly.” Mr. Randolph smirks at the man, but my mind is stuck on one word he threw in there, and when I move my eyes to Paige, I know she caught it too.
“Arts?” she asks curiously.
I take another drink of water to busy my hands, trying not to watch the two as closely as my eyes seem to want to. I celebrated too quickly.
Moment of good ends; moment of bad rushes in for the win.
My jaw clenches. I should get up and go, remove myself from this, but I can’t seem to make myself stand.
“The fundraiser is for my mother’s charity,” Prescott tells her proudly. “It’s a scholarship program for youth in the arts, and we’ll get to see several of the last recipients perform tonight.”
My gut grows heavy. It’s as if he plucked words directly from the Paige handbook.
Charity. Performance. Children.
That is the entire idea behind what she intends to make her life’s work, is it not?
A dance studio for the underprivileged, bringing the arts to youth centers and young survivors who need an outlet to focus on at little to no cost.
My palms start to sweat, so I swipe them on my pants.
I can see her intrigue, and a shadow of disappointment falls over me because, after all that, now Paige wants to go.
Fuck.
“So I realize now, I should have given you all the details right away,” Prescott begins, an easy smile on his annoying, handsome face.
“But the fundraiser is actually on Sunday evening, not Saturday. It’s early and local to you, so I can have you back at your dorm before eight, sooner if you want to skip the entertainment, though it might be the best part of the evening.
I just have to show up, deliver the check on behalf of R.L.
, and then technically, I’m free to do whatever you might like after that. ”
And what the fuck might you like after that, my guy?
My gaze snaps to her grandfather. His employee is really just going to proposition her like that, in front of his boss? Her grandfather.
In front of me.
I’m sitting right here, and it doesn’t even matter.
He knows nothing of who I am, what we are to each other.
For all he knows, she’s mine, something I would think would have crossed his mind when he spawned into our night like a fucking fairy-tale twist. Had this guy been three seconds later that night in San Jose, he’d have likely walked in to find my mouth on hers, but even though he didn’t, she was still in my arms. The implication had to have been clear that she wasn’t his to have.
And again today, when they found us on campus together. Couples do that—wait for each other and walk around side by side. He should have at least wondered, shouldn’t he have?
Annoyance has my brows furrowing because I realize the answer to my own questions instantly.
I am a nonconcern to him.
He doesn’t see me as an issue.
He sees me as nothing because I am of no threat to him. Why would I be? I’m but a kid in his eyes. My twenty-one years of age mean nothing to this man who is probably about a decade older, give or take a year or two.
I’m a college kid and he’s CEO or some shit at a billion-dollar company. He’s sophisticated and charming, and I’m exhausted and a living fucking stress case.
The waiter delivers the check, and my pulse pounds harder as Prescott casually pulls it close, blindly signing the receipt with his attention still focused on the blond between us.
Because he doesn’t need to worry about the cost. He has his life figured out, and oh how seamlessly she would fit right in.
“You should come with me, Paige,” he reiterates. “I think you’ll love it.”
I know she will.
It’s time for me to go.
“Wait, what?”
My head yanks up, and I freeze when I find all three staring at me. Shit.
I clear my throat. Guess I was thinking a little too loudly.
I focus on her, taking in the small frown that’s formed on her face. “I forgot I have to run by the house before practice later, and I won’t have time after my next class.” Lie.
She’s already pushing her plate away, but I stand quickly, waving my phone around.
“Stay. I can call a car.”
Those little creases on her forehead deepen, and something else slips over her features. “Chase.” She says my name slowly, softly. Almost as if she can sense where my mind has gone. “I’ll come with you” is what she says, but it sounds very much like I want to come with you.
My smile is as reassuring as I can manage, and I shake my head. “Stay.” You shouldn’t want to come with me. “You have time.”
I can tell she wants to protest, her palms already pressing at the tabletop as if to push herself to her feet. “I saw some fancy desserts on the way in. Maybe they even have some strawberry shortcake you can taste test.”
Her lips twitch, despite the concern in her eyes, but she’s no longer trying to stand, so I turn to the others at the table.
“It was nice to officially meet you, Mr. Randolph. Thank you for the invitation today.”
“You as well, son, and anytime.” He gazes at me, his expression almost searching. “A friend of Paige’s is a friend of mine.”
Friend, friend, friend.
“Prescott.” I turn to him. “Thanks for lunch. It was unnecessary but appreciated.”
The man nods. “It was good to see you again, Chase.”
I can’t say the same, my guy.
I tip my chin at both men, and then I turn and walk away, pretending I don’t feel the weight of her gaze growing heavier with every step.