Chapter 7 #2
The people nearest them laugh from whatever he said, and Sophie’s smile widens. Nathan holds her gaze as the room fills around them, his interest obvious in the way his attention never leaves her face.
A tightness forms beneath my ribs before I can dismiss it.
It isn’t jealousy. I have no claim to her, and Nathan has done nothing beyond flirting with a woman who is clearly capable of managing him.
Still, I dislike the angle of his body toward hers and the easy familiarity he is attempting to create.
The distance between us feels suddenly unnecessary.
Vivian says something beside me, but I miss the first half of it.
“Julian?” she asks.
“I heard you,” I reply, though I didn’t.
Her eyes flick briefly toward Sophie and Nathan before returning to me. Vivian is too discreet to comment, which makes the silence more pointed.
I set my glass down and cross the room. Nathan notices me first and straightens slightly. Sophie turns a moment later, and her gaze meets mine with a warmth that eases the pressure in my chest more quickly than it should.
“Nathan,” I say, “Preston was looking for you.”
Nathan glances toward the other side of the room. “Was he?”
“He is now.”
A faint smile touches Sophie’s mouth. Nathan understands the dismissal and lifts his glass.
“Then I should rescue him from whatever conversation he’s trapped himself in.”
“Probably,” I reply.
He excuses himself and moves away, leaving Sophie beside me.
“You looked serious,” she says.
“I was saving you from a fund allocation discussion.”
“I thought you were saving Nathan from Preston.”
“That too.”
Sophie studies me for a moment, and I feel the weight of her attention settle more fully than it did across the room.
“I was handling myself,” she says.
“I know,” I reply.
The words come out more quietly than I intend. Her expression shifts, and the room seems to recede around us for a brief second before someone calls my name from the dining table. I look toward the sound, then back at Sophie.
“We should rejoin them,” I say.
“We should,” she agrees, though neither of us moves immediately.
By the time the last of the guests begins to leave, the restaurant has grown quieter.
Preston departs with Marcus, and Vivian pauses near the door long enough to tell me she will send the revised legal brief in the morning.
Sophie stands a few feet away, fastening the clasp of her handbag while she thanks one of the executives for the evening.
“Did you speak with the chauffeur about a pick up?” I ask her as I approach.
Sophie looks up. “No…but it’s cool, I can take a taxi back.”
“I’m heading in the same direction,” I say.
“Ride with me, and my driver will drop you at the hotel.”
She hesitates for only a moment.
“All right.”
The car is waiting at the curb. I open the rear door for her, and she slides inside before I follow.
Once we pull away from the restaurant, the city moves past the windows in soft streaks of light.
The privacy partition remains lowered, though the quiet in the back seat feels intimate enough without it.
“You handled Preston well,” I say.
Sophie turns toward me.
“Was I supposed to be worried?”
“Most people are.”
“I noticed.”
Her smile is faint, but it lingers.
“And Nathan?” I ask.
Sophie’s brows lift.
“What about him?”
“He seemed interested.”
“In the company?”
“In you.”
She watches me carefully.
“You sound certain.”
“I was standing close enough to hear him.”
“You were standing across the room.”
“I have good hearing.”
Sophie’s smile deepens.
“Is that what that was?”
“What was what?”
“You crossing the room to rescue me from a conversation I didn’t need rescuing from.”
“I told you, Preston was looking for him.”
“He wasn’t.”
“No,” I admit. “He wasn’t.”
The silence that follows settles differently than the others we have shared. Sophie keeps her eyes on me, and I feel the same pull that followed me through dinner, the quiet need to hold her attention and keep it from drifting elsewhere.
“You aren’t a fan of Nathan,” she says.
It is not a question.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” I reply.
Her gaze sharpens. “That sounds dangerously close to jealousy.”
She says the words before she can stop herself. Her expression pauses for a moment.
I meet her eyes intensely. “It isn’t.”
“What is it, then?”
I look at her for a moment before answering.
“I haven’t decided.”
The car slows at an intersection, and Sophie shifts slightly beside me. Her phone slips from her hand, strikes the edge of the seat, and lands on the floor between us.
“I’ve got it,” she says.
We both reach down at the same time.
My hand closes over hers before either of us finds the phone.
The contact is light, but neither of us moves. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, and when I lift my head, her face is closer than I expect. The air between us tightens, charged by the small point of contact and the fact that neither of us seems willing to break it.
Sophie’s eyes hold mine.
The car begins moving again.
I slide my fingers back slowly, and she picks up the phone without looking away.
When the driver pulls to the curb outside her hotel, neither of us reaches for the door immediately.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” I say.
Her expression shifts, caught between surprise and something warmer.
“Another group dinner?” Sophie asks.
“No.”
The answer settles between us.
“Just dinner,” I add. “You and me.”
She studies me for a long moment before a faint smile touches her mouth.
“All right,” she says.
I open the door and step out first, then offer her my hand. She takes it, and the pressure of her fingers brings back the heat from the car.
“I’ll send the details,” I tell her.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Sophie turns toward the hotel entrance, but before she walks inside, she looks back at me once. I remain at the curb until the doors close behind her.