Maid for Each Other(15)

I couldn’t speak because his mouth was just too close to my neck.

And my ear.

“Now I know you don’t know anybody here,” he continued, assuming I’d agreed, “so I’ll stay by your side the whole time. Just let me lead the conversations, for the love of God, and this should be pretty easy for us to pull off. Okay?”

I nodded, still unable to speak as this ridiculously attractive stranger made me…unsettled.

While still holding my hand.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked, those seemingly all-seeing eyes trying to pierce my thoughts.

“What’s your middle name?” I asked.

His eyebrows screwed together. “That’s your question?”

I shrugged, needing to say something to remind my hormones that he was six and a half feet of jerk. “I might need to know.”

“You won’t.” He stepped back, looked at his watch, and said, “Are we ready?”

“As soon as you tell me your middle name.”

His fingers tightened around mine, and as he pulled me with him into the cocktail party, he muttered, “Connor.”

We entered the dark, elegant room, only it felt different now; we felt different. He was still holding my hand, but there was more of an intimacy to us, somehow. Maybe he was a step closer to me than before, or maybe his fingers were holding mine a little more tightly.

I wasn’t sure exactly what the “thing” was, but it felt like a switch had been flipped and he was now intentionally projecting our fake relationship.

The instant we walked in the room, we were noticed by everyone. I knew from googling that he came from a rich family and had an important title at Hathaway, Vice President of Something, but it felt like every eye in the room was on us.

And he didn’t wait or blend in like I would have, settling into the social situation before engaging. No, Declan moved like he was used to being treated this way. He immediately addressed the first person who looked like they were going to say hi, a guy in his thirties wearing a navy suit and red bow tie.

“Hey, Theo, how are they mixing the drinks tonight?” Declan asked, turning into what appeared to be a really nice guy.

“Not strong enough, if you ask me, but beggars and all that,” the man said, lifting his glass and not even hiding his curiosity as he glanced at me.

“This is Abi,” Declan said, his hand settling on my lower back. “I can’t remember—have you two met before?”

Nicely played, I thought, smiling at the man.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” Theo replied, holding out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” I replied, taking his hand and gripping it as hard as I could. I wasn’t going to do anything to ruin the evening for Declan, but since I didn’t know any of these people and wouldn’t be seeing them again, I was going to make sure everyone I met remembered just how firm my grip was.

Gotta find a way to make this fun.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Theo,” I said, immediately regretting it because what if it was absolutely implausible that Declan would’ve mentioned this man to his girlfriend?

But he said, “Rightfully so. If he didn’t mention me after I’ve kicked his ass so many times on the golf course, I’d be wounded.”

“From what I hear, you wound him fairly often,” I said, and then I felt like a wild success when he threw his head back and laughed. I quickly glanced at Declan, and he was watching me like a proud father.

Like he was pleasantly surprised I wasn’t burning the party to the ground.

And as ridiculous as it was, it felt a little…good to have him look at me like that. I felt a bit like a kid who was amped to have made their parent proud. I didn’t know Declan Powell, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like him if I did, but in this moment, it felt good to please the big guy in the suit.

“I’m going to go find the bartender,” Declan said to Theo, “because Abi here got herself some wine but completely left me empty-handed.”

“I assumed, Declan Connor Powell, that you were capable of getting your own drink,” I said, teasing like I would if he were actually my boyfriend.

It felt like an actor breaking the third wall when he gave me a playful grin and said, “You actually used my middle name.”

“Of course I did,” I replied, grinning back.

His eyes moved over my face for an extended moment, like he was considering something about me, and then it was like he decided. I’m not sure if I earned his trust for the evening or if he was testing me, but he led me farther into the room and we proceeded to become Team Social Butterfly.

My fake boyfriend owned the room.

He helloed everyone and their brothers, smiling and back-slapping as the string quartet played Ariana Grande and I pretended to belong. He led every conversation, introducing me as if I was the love of his life before quickly guiding the attention away from me so I didn’t have to answer any questions.

Every time we finished one conversation, someone else was ready and waiting to engage with Declan. It was a little nauseating, to be honest, the way everyone jostled to kiss his feet, but he had an air about him, like he was next in line for the throne or something.

“Abi!” Declan’s mom appeared in front of us, grinning like she was having the very best time. I’d noticed that even though Declan’s parents were retired, they appeared to still be very involved in the company. “I wasn’t finished with you.”