Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Tristan
I headed to my table, found it right at the front, and spotted my name card next to my mentor.
I was well aware that it was an honor to be seated next to Arthur.
Everyone in the room would be wondering what I’d done to deserve it.
But it also meant I would have to resist checking my phone all evening.
There’d be no escaping the spotlight, and I didn’t want to appear rude.
With my job, where calamity could be created in an instant, unplugging for even a couple of hours made me itchy.
I wouldn’t know anyone here tonight other than Arthur. But that didn’t matter. I just needed to eat, make a generous donation, and go home.
I glanced around the ballroom as it gradually filled with people.
Vertical banners stood at intervals around the perimeter, each showing a different picture of infants and children in hospital beds.
The young patients smiled, seeming unbothered by the tubes and machines surrounding them.
The name of the charity was emblazoned at the bottom of each banner: Sunrise Foundation for Children with Congenital Heart Defects.
My stomach twisted. Shit. Why hadn’t I checked what tonight was all about?
I’d seen an invitation from Arthur and accepted without giving it much thought. If I’d known . . .
Not that raising money for children with congenital heart defects wasn’t a good cause—it was.
I knew as much firsthand. I just didn’t relish the idea of spending the evening submerged in memories of my baby sister.
I would have made up an excuse, sent a big check, and avoided this room and its pictures of happy, healing children.
Arthur arrived, followed by a trail of people wanting a few seconds of his time and attention.
He greeted me with a handshake and thanked me for coming.
We didn’t get any further. Interruption was followed by interruption as people came up to him to introduce themselves, tell him they’d sent him an invitation or email, ask if they could discuss this business opportunity, invite him to that lunch.
It was like getting seated next to the Pope or something. Everyone wanted his blessing or advice.
When the food came out, the interruptions slowed but didn’t stop.
“So, Tristan, how are things with you?” Arthur asked during a rare quiet moment.
“Good. Busy but good.”
“I appreciate you making the time to come tonight. My daughter organized it. She’s very passionate about the cause.” His sigh hid something he wasn’t saying.
“It’s an excellent cause. I’m grateful you invited me.”
“Whatever Parker’s involved in is always an excellent cause. She tends to throw herself in headfirst.” He took a sip of his wine. “She’s very kindhearted. And generous. Her lovely nature can lead to some people taking advantage.”
Before I could ask him anything more, we were interrupted by a familiar-looking man—a member of the cabinet, if I wasn’t mistaken.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a three-buzz buzz, which meant it was important.
I headed out unnoticed by Arthur or the minister. As I made my way to the back of the room, I scanned the tables for a certain cream-covered pixie. She was nowhere in sight.
The three buzzes turned out to be a false alarm, but now I was in the lobby, I scrolled through my notifications just to check everything else was in control.
As I headed back into the ballroom, proceedings had heated up. There was an emcee on the stage with a small woman who looked rather familiar.
The red-lipped pixie.
Now she was sans cream puffs, she looked even more delicious.
She wore a fire-engine-red dress that cinched in at her tiny waist and matched her lips perfectly.
Her sleek black bob and diminutive height weren’t my normal type, but there was no doubt she was beautiful.
She had one hand on her hip and was forcing a smile.
“Fifteen hundred,” the emcee said. “Do I hear sixteen hundred?”
Several auction paddles were thrust in the air and I couldn’t help but notice that most of them weren’t looking at the stage or the auctioneer. They were looking at Arthur. Was it his lot or something?
He must find it uncomfortable having eyes on him all the time.
I was well known by name in some circles—after all, I was the best at what I did when it came to protecting the online presence of the biggest companies and ultra-high-net-worth individuals.
But people didn’t know my face. And thank God.
“Are you bidding, sir?” a woman behind a trestle table by the door asked.
“What’s for sale?” I asked.
“A date with the beautiful woman on the stage,” she replied.
I narrowed my eyes. Cream Puff was an auction item? “Can I get a paddle?”
She handed me what looked like a table tennis bat, and I strode toward the stage as the bid for a date with Cream Puff went up in one-hundred-pound increments. Bids were starting to slow as the auctioneer asked for two thousand pounds.
“Twenty-five thousand,” I bellowed, raising my paddle.
Gasps echoed around the room and I felt a thousand pairs of eyes swing from Arthur to me.
Cream Puff squinted, trying to see who she was going to have to go to dinner with, but the lights of the stage were shining right at her—she wouldn’t have been able to tell that it was the man she was ogling earlier in the evening.
I slid back into my seat and gave my name to the woman with the clipboard who’d come over to take my details.
“Interesting,” Arthur said from next to me. “If you’d wanted to date my daughter, you could have done it for free.”
My heart sank to my knees. Cream Puff was Arthur’s daughter?
“I had no idea she was your daughter, Arthur. My apologies. Of course, I won’t take her out.
This is a wonderful cause and the point was to make a donation, not win a date.
” That explained why everyone’s attention was on Arthur during the bidding. Everyone wanted to impress him.
“I hope you’re not going to back out. It’s about time Parker did something that was about enjoying her life rather than trying to fix the world.
It will be good for her.” He turned to me and patted me on the shoulder.
“For you too, I think. And better you than some of the old men in this room. Make sure you both have fun.”
“I’ll treat her like glass, Arthur. You have my word.”
Dinner with Arthur’s daughter wouldn’t be so bad. It just would be better if I wasn’t so attracted to her. I’d just have to keep my flirting in check and make sure things ended when dinner did. No problem . . .
As long as she didn’t cover herself in cream and tempt me to lick it from her.