Chapter 20 #4
Dinner that night was held on the private terrace at some fancy restaurant. The weather was cool without the bright California sunshine, and so standing heaters had been arranged to keep all the guests at the long dining table comfortable.
“Make sure you order the steak,” Ian said quietly as we were led toward our chairs. “It’s so good, it’ll make you forget how boring and miserable this dinner will be.”
Eddie J was already seated, tapping out something on his phone, but he was the only one at the table. I waved hello and went to sit beside him, but with a subtle shake of his head, he indicated a group of people entering from a separate doorway, the bar at their backs.
An elegantly dressed woman in her mid-forties led the small crowd, drinks in all their hands. “Dorian!” she called and made a beeline toward Ian, planting kisses on both cheeks while she rested one hand on his shoulder. “It is so good to see you.”
The woman was gorgeous, tall, and curvaceous, her hair, a deep auburn that complemented her pale complexion. She looked tasteful and classy in a jumpsuit and blazer.
And that was the last generous thought I had the entire night.
Ian smiled warmly and said, “You too, Gloria. I want you to meet Joan. Joan, this is my manager, Gloria Wilson.”
This was Gloria.
The very first time I’d met George all those months ago, he’d asked if I was a farmer. I told him I was. Then I’d asked, What are you? He’d replied, An inconvenience.
When pressed, he’d admitted that someone named Gloria had called him that.
I’d wondered about it for a long time. Had even thought about bringing it up to Ian. But in the end, no one had ever mentioned anyone named Gloria in my presence, and I’d let it go, hoping she was a part of George’s history.
But here she was now, not imaginary at all. Ian’s manager.
This was the person who’d told a boy who’d just lost his mother that he was an inconvenience. George, who was sweet and kind and smart and thoughtful, unlike any child I’d ever met. George, whom I loved and would do anything for.
Gloria’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and I had no idea what mine were doing. Probably plotting a gruesome homicide.
After a moment too long, she said, “Joan. Very nice to meet you. Maybe you can sit with Eddie J at the end of the table. I really need Dorian’s full attention on our guests.”
I said nothing, and I hoped she was unnerved. I hoped she had nightmares about me tonight.
“Gloria,” Ian said firmly, and then waited a beat. “Joan’s my guest. I want her with me. This dinner was supposed to be small, just the team.”
“It is small,” Gloria argued, pretending there weren’t half a dozen strangers loitering behind her, waiting for an introduction. “Besides, I have them in mind for some upcoming projects for you. It will be good to entertain conversation tonight.”
With that, Gloria waved the loiterers over and introduced Ian—and by extension, me—to a bunch of people whose names I’d never remember.
Before taking my place next to Ian, I grabbed Eddie J’s arm and forcibly moved him to the seat beside mine. Gloria’s eyes flashed, and it was the first and only time I smiled at the woman all night.
The majority of the dinner had nothing to do with me.
Hell, it barely had anything to do with Ian, and he was the reason they were all here.
Gloria monopolized the conversation, discussing exciting new projects and showrunners and potential leads and a whole bunch of other stuff that meant nothing to me.
Ian practically vibrated with unease. I could tell he was irritated at being ambushed by his manager, but he worked so hard to hide it.
Midway through the salad course, I put a staying hand on his strong thigh, trying to convey support.
His leg stopped shaking, but he still tried to include me in nearly every discussion. It was kind, but there was no need.
I had nothing to offer these people, and so I held no value to them. They didn’t want to hear about my quaint life in North Carolina or get to know me. They were here to see Dorian Masters, to be in his orbit.
Obviously, I was out of place and underdressed in a basic little black dress that served me for most occasions back home, but none of that bothered me. Maybe I would have been more nervous or guarded if any of these people had mattered. But they didn’t.
So I ate my steak and chatted with Eddie J and did my best to reassure Ian that all was well. I’d sat through more annoying family dinners when Brady had gone through a skater-boy phase in his early twenties. This was nothing.
When the meal had gone extremely long, and Gloria decided to order desserts for the table, Ian placed his arm along the back of my chair and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “I’m just happy to be here with you.”
He smiled softly, gifting me one lonely dimple. Then he pressed a tender kiss to my cheek.
“And, you know,” I told him, when his lips lingered, “you were right. The steak really did make up for everything else.”
His huff of amusement made me grin. I was happy I could make Ian laugh on a night when he was so obviously on the clock, going through the motions.
I was, once again, grateful that my own livelihood didn’t rely on my ability to charm anyone else.