CHAPTER 23 Maverick Jennings #2
My breath catches in the back of my throat.
She’s an angel. Or a devil. I’m not really sure.
She’s in red again. Angels don’t wear red.
Plump lips colored red. Black pointy heels with red bottoms. Her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Whatever she did in there, however much time it took…it was worth it.
And she’ll be on my arm tonight.
Granted, she’ll be on my arm as a publicist might be, not as my date. But we’re far removed enough from our world in Vegas that I can pretend, if only for a moment.
“Damn,” I murmur.
Her eyes heat as they move along my suit. “Back at you.”
I clear my throat and don’t hide the fact that I need to shift my hard cock, and she chuckles as she rolls her eyes. “Men.”
I roll my eyes back. “You.”
She presses her lips together as she crosses the room and picks up the purse she dropped on the table when we walked in. She grabs a few items out of it and transfers them into a smaller clutch that matches her dress. “You ready?”
I shake my head. “I’d rather fuck you first so I’m not walking around with a hard-on the entire night.”
“Sorry, but we’ll be late if we don’t get down there now.
” She walks over to me and fiddles with my tie, which I’m sure is already meticulously straight.
It’s a reason for her to touch me, and I loop an arm around her waist and haul her into me so she can feel how hard I already am for her.
She lets out a soft moan, and I want to kiss her.
My eyes flick to her lips. “Don’t you dare,” she warns.
“You’ll smudge my lipstick, and you’ll have red all over your face. ”
“Worth it,” I say, and I lean down and press a soft kiss to her neck. She grabs hold of my biceps, and I bare my teeth against her neck for a second. She moans before she pushes me back, and I very nearly chuckle at it.
Jesus, she’s even pulsing a near smile in me.
This woman.
“We need to get down there. I signed you up for a red carpet walk with one of the children benefitting from the funds raised from last year’s Hope Gala, and the red carpet walks start in five minutes.”
My chest squeezes that I’ll be walking with a kid.
I don’t really mix with kids.
I thought I could, but when that was ripped away from me, my dreams died with it.
She turns and slides her arm through mine, and together we head down to the gala. She has no clue of the turbulence racing through me.
She has no idea that this is dredging up memories I thought I’d left in the past.
The Hope Gala raises funds for children facing illness, trauma, and hardships. I had no idea kids would even be here, let alone that I have to escort one of them in, but it’s too late for me to protest.
I draw in a breath as I see the line of kids near the lobby.
Everleigh walks up to a man with a headset and a clipboard. “Maverick Jennings is here,” she announces, and she pushes me in front of the clipboard guy. He wears a nametag that says Carl.
“Jennings, Jennings,” he says, scanning the list. “Right. You’re with Bella Brown.” He glances up at the kids. “Bella Brown?”
A little girl who can’t be older than five or six raises her hand shyly, and Carl waves me over to walk with him toward Bella.
Everleigh follows behind me, and Carl stops in front of Bella, who looks like she’s going to pass out.
I wonder what happened to her—to any of the long line of kids we passed to get to her.
I wonder if it’s trauma, illness, or hardship—which category she falls into and how she benefitted from this gala.
She’s got dark brown eyes and nearly black hair, and her eyes won’t quite meet mine.
My chest aches for this little girl and whatever it is she’s been through.
Did her dad cheat on her mom and ask her not to tell the one parent she trusted…
like I had to do? Something tells me whatever she’s been through was far worse than that, and my own experiences still haunt me to this day.
I can’t imagine what this girl has been through.
I kneel down so we’re at eye level. “Hi, Bella. I’m Maverick. How old are you?”
Her big doe eyes move to meet mine, and she whispers, “Five.”
“Five! Wow. Are you in kindergarten?”
She nods.
“Do you like school?”
She shakes her head, and I can’t help a small laugh at that.
An actual laugh.
Holy shit.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I’m absent a lot.”
I wrinkle my nose for her benefit as I wonder why.
Is she neglected? Is she sick? Is someone in her family ill?
Does she even have a family? And if she misses a lot of days, does she have friends?
Or is it impossible to make friends when you don’t consistently attend?
“That’s hard. I’m sorry. I didn’t like school much either. ”
“Why not?”
“It was hard.”
“It’s hard for me, too. Especially math,” she says.
“What are you learning in math?”
“Adding numbers.”
I make a face like that’s just the worst, and a soft giggle escapes her. The joy that lights my heart at the sound of a little girl giggling because of a face I made when she seems like she must have a pretty tough life is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“You ready to walk me into the gala?” I ask her.
Her eyes widen, but she gives me the slightest little nod.
I straighten, and she slips her hand into mine.
The little cold hand takes me by surprise.
It’s tiny in my big hands, and I find myself wanting to protect her from whatever it is she’s been going through, whatever trauma or illness she faces.
I want to make it go away for her. I have no clue how to help her when I don’t even know what her situation is, but I have resources. I have means.
We walk the red carpet together, and we stop at the step and repeat to smile for photos.
I glance at her, and her smile is about as nonexistent as mine is.
I pick her up into my arms to let her know it’s okay, and I force my mouth into the shape imitating a smile.
It feels unfamiliar and foreign to me, but when I look at her with all my teeth showing, her lips move into a similar shape.
We look together at the cameras, and I press my cheek to hers as the bulbs flash in our faces.
I carry her into the ballroom, and Carl’s associate, Beverly, walks over to me. “We’ll take Bella from here, Mr. Jennings. Thank you so much for escorting her in.”
I just met little Bella, but I’m not quite ready to leave her just yet. I set her down, then kneel down to her level. “Thanks for walking me in. Those cameras are so annoying, but being with you made me smile.”
“Me too,” she says quietly, and she throws her arms around my neck. I have no idea how I bonded with a five-year-old girl in the last five minutes, but I did. It feels like we shared something important, like we’re more alike than we realized.
I give her a hug, and she lets go and scampers off toward a woman who looks a lot like her. I’m about to head in that direction to talk to her mom or her aunt or whoever she is when they walk through the doors and back into the lobby.
“How do I get in touch with Bella’s family?” I ask Beverly. “I’d like to help if I can.”
“Information for all recipients is confidential,” she says with a smile. “Your monetary donations tonight will go to help children just like Bella.”
It’s just as important to help other children. I know that. But I also want to help Bella.
I rush away from Beverly and into the lobby, but she’s gone. Vanished. Like it was all some sort of dream.
I blow out a breath as I return to the ballroom to find Everleigh, my heart sinking that I can’t do more for that poor girl.
I don’t see Everleigh’s red dress when I scan the room, and I head back to the lobby in the direction I came from, where I see her talking to Carl.
He hands her a piece of paper, and she thanks him as I saunter over to her.
My brows pinch together. “What’s that?”
“Bella’s guardian’s name, home address, and phone number.” She smiles triumphantly, and I can’t help myself.
I take her into my arms and press my lips to hers as joy fills my chest in a completely unexpected way.