Chapter 30
WEIRD SMALL WORLD THINGS
“Iappreciate you coming with me for this,” London said over a month later. “I could have come alone.”
“I wanted to be with you,” he said.
“You do look pretty sharp.” Her hand went to adjust the perfect collar of his shirt. Just a reason to touch him, nothing more.
It was the first time she’d had a man with her for any kind of event she’d attended.
It’d been over a month since her extended family was made aware of her relationship with Spencer. And things were going surprisingly well.
Work was coming in faster than she ever imagined. Not just West’s businesses but also other clients they’d cultivated.
Which was why Paris wasn’t here tonight. She was actually on her way home now.
Having Spencer on her arm was just as nice. Just as important.
Just as... loving.
Which was exactly where her heart had been for weeks now, though she couldn’t get the damn words out of her mouth.
Here she’d thought most of her self-doubt was diminishing, but in this area, it was rearing its ugly little head.
“Not you,” he said, leaning down, his lips just a fraction from touching her ear. Her body shivered just the same. She didn’t care they were in public. The guy next to her could turn her to mush in seconds. “You look amazing. Sexy as all fuck. I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”
She angled her head, her mouth brushing his cheek. “And I can’t wait for you to do that, but for now, we’ve got to mingle.”
It was a charity event for a client she’d just signed with. No reason they couldn’t play nice. West would be here also and it was a double bonus for several reasons.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to one of these,” he said.
“How often did you have to attend before?”
“Early on, a few a year. But the past few years I got out of it. Mainly because I wasn’t around or just overrun with more work.
“London,” Olivia said. “We are so glad you could attend. And who is this?”
“Olivia Manchester, this is Spencer Jensen.”
“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said. “London didn’t tell us what a handsome partner she had.”
“I try to keep that secret,” she said, winking. See, she could be cordial with clients. “But you know, a girl needs to have some nice accessories on her arm.”
Olivia gave a wiggle of her eyebrows and laughed. “I heard West was going to be here tonight. Is that true? Do you know? He’s been invited for years but normally sent someone in his place.”
Olivia didn’t know her personal relationship with West, just that he was her biggest client. She tried not to let it burn her butt that Olivia only signed on because West sang her work praises. She had to get over that.
“Last I heard he’d be here, but if he doesn’t attend, Spencer is Senior Managing Attorney for The Carlisle Group.”
“Oh,” Olivia said, her hand coming out to land on London’s. “What a lovely way to meet. Me and my late husband—the third one—we met through work also. We were competitors. Oh, those good old days.”
She smiled. “Sometimes fighting means more than anger.”
“Don’t you know it,” Olivia said, running her hand down her arm, then patting Spencer’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you. Enjoy your night while I move around. I do love hosting.”
They were in New Jersey at a beautiful restaurant. Hundreds of people were moving around the floor, wine passing by on trays, fancy finger foods on others.
Spencer snagged two glasses and handed one over. “I thought you’d get a beer or a manly scotch,” she said.
“I’d rather, but I’m not going to fight for room in the bar.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “Can I confess something?”
“You hate these things,” he guessed, squinting one eye at her.
“Phew,” she said. “Yes, I do. I know it’s part of the job. But Paris is much better at breaking the ice.”
“And playing nice.”
“That too. So you’re a good second. I thought Olivia would have just introduced me around a bit but guess I can’t get that lucky.”
“You don’t know many. I understand.” His eyes were taking in the people. “I know a few. Follow me and we’ll get you some exposure.”
She leaned against his chest. “Thank you.”
They moved through the crowd, Spencer introducing her to some of his former clients. She did hand out two cards and was thankful she had them in her purse. She was asked, she’d never just been so forward about it without them inquiring.
“You haven’t lost your shit yet.” She turned to see West next to her quietly saying those words.
“I’m on my best behavior as always. What do you take me for?”
“It’s because you’ve got Spencer next to you,” West said.
He smiled. “Just introducing her around.”
There were a lot of eyes on them. Discreetly of course. When West walked into a room, most got as close as they could.
“Hi,” Abby said, moving over. “Sorry, I had to run to the ladies’ room.”
“West got you out tonight,” she said. “Did he do it for me?”
Abby smirked. “He knows I’ll go to as many as I can tolerate, but of course, since I knew you’d be here, I was more than willing. It’s the ones where I don’t know anyone that I struggle the most.”
“Spencer, my wife, Abby. You haven’t officially met.”
“So nice to meet you,” Abby said. “I’ve heard a bit about you from Charlotte, via Amanda, through Angel and Coy. And that sounds so high school-ish.”
“I get it,” he said, shaking her hand. “One of those weird small world things.”
“It seems to happen more than we realize,” Abby said.
“West. Good to see your face here. And your lovely wife. Are you going to introduce me to who else is with you?”
“Joshua Singleton, owner of Singleton Investments, this is London Westerly. She and her sister own Westerly Consulting. We are currently under contract for their expertise with both personnel and operational strategies. Spencer Jensen, Senior Managing Attorney at The Carlisle Group.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said to Joshua. Spencer shook hands also.
“If West is using you, you’ve got to be something special. Don’t suppose you’ve got a card on you? We’ve got some issues that aren’t being handled well internally.”
She pulled a card out and handed it over. “My information is there.”
“I’m sure you’ll be handing out plenty of them tonight, as word travels fast once West endorses you.”
Joshua walked away. “You came for that reason?” she asked her cousin.
He reached for a glass of wine for him and Abby, leaning close to her to say, “It’s mutually beneficial to all.”
She knew that and had to get over the insecurities that she was where she was because of her cousin.
It was a fact. He was going to bring her business. West was going to expand her career. But none of that would happen if he didn’t believe in her.
And by believing in her, it would help him. It’d open doors to businesses that were struggling, that she could fix and if West was interested enough, he could make an offer and buy them out.
The bigger picture was where her cousin was always looking and she was lucky enough to be brought into it.
“Thanks, West. I know I’ve said it a few times, but I will again.”
West nodded and walked away.
“That was nice of you.”
“I’m a nice person,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.
“You practiced that in the mirror, didn’t you?”
She mock rolled her eyes at Spencer. “Maybe just a little.”
They moved around some more, people coming over to talk to her now. As if they saw her with West and it was an invitation to know who she was or how she knew him and Abby.
Not once did she say their personal relationship. She never would.
“I’ll be back,” he said. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll survive,” she said, looking around the room at the people. She was off to the side, more against a wall. Food moved by and she snagged some off a tray, found a small round table to set her glass on and the plate with food.
It gave her something to focus on so she wasn’t just looking like a lost puppy someone had to save.
“I saw you talking with Spencer Jensen earlier.”
She glanced up, her hand half-covering her mouth while she chewed the stuffed mushroom she’d just popped in. She swallowed quickly.
“Yes,” she said. “You know Spencer?”
“We worked together.” He extended his hand. “Ryker Smithson.”
Oh. The Ryker. The jackass who’d pushed Spencer out.
She shook his hand. “London Westerly.”
“Of Westerly Consulting,” Ryker added with a smug little smile. “Your name has been mentioned more than a few times tonight.”
The West Effect. She refused to flinch. This was what they’d wanted, the visibility, the recognition, and the influence. She had to get over it now.
“All good things, I assume,” she said.
“I haven’t heard otherwise.”
“Ryker.” Spencer’s voice cut in as he stepped up beside her. “Good to see you.”
Ever the professional. His steady voice and polite smile. No matter that this was the man who’d tried to kneecap his career.
“I hadn’t realized you were going to land on your feet so well,” Ryker said.
“How’s that?” he asked mildly.
She moved closer, slipping her arm around Spencer’s waist. His body went rigid for a half-second, but she didn’t care. He’d been steadying her all night and she could damn well return the favor.
“Well,” Ryker said, his eyes flicking to her arm around Spencer, “this is… unexpected. More than colleagues, I take it? And to get picked up by The Carlisle Group. Impressive. Not exactly easy.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, “but I’m damn good at what I do.”
“He’s the best,” she said without hesitation.
He shot her a quick sideways look. “I don’t need you to sing my praises, but thank you.”
“Maybe I want to. Maybe they should know what they lost by forcing you out. Their loss is my gain.”
“Oh?” Ryker lifted an eyebrow. “Forcing you? Is that what you told her?”
“I told her the truth,” he said coolly. “If you want to rewrite history, go right ahead. I’m sure you did plenty of that when you explained everything upstairs. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”
“Yes, you’d better run back to West,” Ryker said. “Be his little lapdog. Didn’t expect that from you.”
Her jaw almost popped. “Are you on crack?” she hissed. “Do you think someone like West needs a lapdog? You’re projecting how you operate.”
“London,” he said sharper than normal but not anything like she was doing. “Let’s go.” He pulled her away before she launched into round two. “Not the best way to make an impression in a room full of potential clients.”
“Fuck that,” she muttered into his ear, her voice sharp even if she kept the volume down. “Stand up for yourself.”
And there his body went rigid again. “I did. In my way. I don’t need you to fight my battles.” He guided her down the hall, out of the room and out of the tension. “There are no battles. Except the ones you keep creating. For one night, can’t you just tone it down?”
He turned and walked away.
Just like that.
Leaving her alone in the hallway, staring at the broad, rigid line of his back as it retreated, while her anger, embarrassment, and something dangerously close to hurt burned all the way up her throat.