Page 16 of Catalyst
CHAPTER8
Ellie
My belly fluttersas I reach out to grab Adam’s hand. The second our skin comes into contact, a spark races up my arm, causing goose bumps to rise. He helps me out of the car, standing in front of me to block the cameras as I adjust my dress. There are only a few of them, but the fact that there are any at all freaks me out a smidge.
I’ve never attended an event where my picture would be taken for the papers. Let’s hope I don’t do anything too stupid to embarrass Adam.
I still can’t believe he asked me to come with him. The minute I saw his name pop up on my phone, I knew he’d forgotten to find a date for himself. When he started to ask me about his social calendar, I worried he was going to ask me to call one of his former dates for him. The pit in my stomach loosened when he followed the question with his request that I join him instead.
“Just smile until we’re past the cameras. Don’t answer any of their questions,” Adam whispers, his nose dragging across the shell of my ear. The man has no idea what he does to my body.
I nod my head and squeeze Adam’s arm to tell him I’m ready. With Matthew following behind us, we walk into The Palmada Hotel. This place screams opulence with its gold finishings, furniture that looks like you’d get it dirty if you sat on it, and cascading chandeliers that sparkle from the ceiling.
Adam leads the way toward the ballroom without a glance around the pristine lobby. “Have you been here before?” I ask.
He glances at me, his eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen before. “A few times, actually. The Jett Hill Foundation has held their event here for the past four years.”
“It’s beautiful.”
As if he hadn’t noticed before, Adam looks around the lobby. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Chuckling at his answer, I shake my head.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just couldn’t decide if your response was because you’re used to the shininess or because you’re a guy.”
The décor of the lobby is carried through into the large ballroom. There are high-top tables with white linens scattered around the outside edge of the room while round dinner tables take up the center, all facing the stage at the front.
People mill about, filling the space and making it feel smaller in size. Several of the attendees have already nodded at Adam. There’s a good chance Adam won’t be able to have much fun since most of the people here will be business associates. I imagine he’ll have to schmooze with the big wigs before he can enjoy the evening.
“Hey.” I nudge Adam to look at me. “Our bet doesn’t start until you finish making the rounds.”
His brows furrow for a second until he understands why I’m delaying our fun. His shoulders drop, and a small smile quirks his lips. “Let’s grab a drink, and then we’ll get this show on the road.”
With his hand on the small of my back, Adam leads me to the bar. Matthew is a few people ahead of us in line, talking to a woman who is flirting so hard she might as well strip naked and rub herself on him.
The best part is, she’s about thirty years older than Matthew, and he looks incredibly uncomfortable by her advances. I grab Adam’s arm and nod my head at Matthew. He laughs out loud, his whole face lighting up with humor. If I thought the broody look was my favorite, happy Adam just took first place.
“I’d feel bad for him, but he kind of deserves it.” Adam grins at me.
“Why?”
“The asshole flirts with any woman who will let him. He needs a little taste of his own medicine. Although, to his credit, he doesn’t flirt with anyone who doesn’t welcome it.”
“I’m not sure there’s a woman who wouldn’t welcome his flirting.”
“You included?” Adam raises an eyebrow at me, a hint of something I can’t quite place behind his eyes.
“He doesn’t flirt with me. And even if he did, it’s all in good fun. He doesn’t actually want me.” The idea that Matthew would flirt with me is preposterous.
“Oh, trust me. If you gave him an opening, he’d want you.”
“What about you?” The words pop out of my mouth before my brain can stop them. And based on Adam’s face, he’s just as surprised by my question as I am. I immediately take it back in an effort to recover from the embarrassment. “Don’t answer that. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
We get to the front of the line at the bar before Adam can respond, which is just as well. I probably shouldn’t order a drink if I’m spouting things I shouldn’t while completely sober. At the same time, a drink sounds really good right now.
With my glass of wine in hand, Adam leads me away from the bar. We make the rounds, talking to businessmen who hang on to every word Adam says. It’s comical witnessing the fawning taking place in front of me. They’re all begging to work with Adam’s company, hoping for even the smallest scrap he’s willing to throw their way.
