Chapter 61 As Long as It Isn’t You
Ryan let it go. Richard could think what he liked.
“Chloe,” her father said, “there are people you should meet.”
She couldn’t reasonably refuse every introduction.
“Stay here,” she told Ryan. “I’ll find you later.”
“Sure.”
Once she left, he took out his phone and started a game.
A few guests glanced at the casually dressed stranger, but no one knew him well enough to interfere.
Then greetings rose across the room.
“George!”
“Mr. Mercer. Good to see you.”
Ryan looked up and almost laughed.
George and Victor had arrived. Guests moved to welcome them. The Mercer group was prominent in Asheville, and George was said to be an old friend of Harrington’s.
Ryan turned his back to the room.
With luck, they wouldn’t notice him.
They didn’t. They noticed Whitmore instead.
A short conversation later, both men were walking toward Ryan’s corner.
“Mr. Carter.”
Ryan turned reluctantly.
“I even had my back to you. Apparently that wasn’t enough.”
George laughed.
“Trying to avoid us? I hadn’t expected you here.”
“I came with Whitmore to see a patient. Enjoy the evening. You don’t need to entertain me.”
George understood the request beneath the words.
“Of course. We’ll speak later.”
Not far away, Richard watched with a frown.
He knew who the Mercers were, though their industries rarely brought them together. Why had both men gone out of their way to greet Ryan?
Before he could decide, they left, and Ryan returned to his phone.
Richard relaxed.
Whitmore must have introduced him. A brief courtesy to a doctor’s young acquaintance, nothing more.
And Ryan hadn’t even stood up. An opportunity to speak to men like that, wasted through sheer lack of manners.
Another stir moved through the room as Lawrence Harrington appeared.
Broadly built and in his fifties, he carried an authority that his welcoming smile did little to soften. This was a man accustomed to being obeyed.
Ryan ignored the opening remarks and stayed with his game.
“You look comfortable.”
Chloe sat beside him and leaned against his shoulder to see the screen.
He glanced at her, then around the room.
“Could you cause me a little less trouble?”
“What trouble?”
He indicated the young men watching them.
“The jealousy over there is getting dangerous. Someone’s going to end up dead.”
She giggled.
“With you involved, it wouldn’t be you. That’s what matters to me.”
“You’d be upset?”
“Devastated. I’d cry every day. Cry myself blind. Then no one would want me.”
His mouth twitched.
“You’re getting far too involved in the performance.”
“Sometimes the performance turns real.” She smiled at him. “And what’s so terrible about being my boyfriend? I’m beautiful. Great figure, long legs. You could do worse.”
“All right. Enough advertising.”
He waved toward the room.
“Go mingle before everyone here decides they hate me.”
She pouted, then rested her chin on her hand and looked at him with exaggerated adoration.
“That’s what I like. You don’t fawn over me. Those other men look as though they’d carry me off if they thought they could.”
“Why are you so clingy?”
“You’re my boyfriend. Who else would I cling to?”
He gave up and returned to the game.
Chloe stayed close, watching the screen and offering instructions he hadn’t asked for.
“Left. A little farther.”
“Get him!”
They were still arguing over his next move when Whitmore approached.
“Mr. Carter. The boy’s awake. We should go.”