“Don’t go far,” Shane told him, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m not sure how long we’re staying.”
Cooper glanced at Beth, then at Shane, and nodded. “Call when you’re ready,” he said. “I’ll be here.”
A hotel usher opened the rear passenger door, and Shane stepped out of the car. He turned to help Beth out.
The hotel entrance was lit up, as was the front walk where a line had formed. The event organizers had spared no expense. A red carpet led from the curb to the entrance. The walkway was roped off and numerous reporters and photographers stood outside the red velvet ropes, snapping photos and soliciting statements from the guests. Couples strolled through a veritable gauntlet of photographers rapidly firing off shots. A male photographer stepped up to the rope and snapped a candid shot of Shane and Beth. She flinched at the bright flash.
Shane tucked Beth’s hand into the crook of his elbow and gave the photographer a quelling look. The photographer smiled apologetically and shrugged before moving on to the next couple.
Shane leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Are you doing okay?”
She nodded, despite the fact that she had a death grip on his arm, and her heart was beating so hard she could feel it against her ribs. The crowd outside the hotel was growing quickly as more and more couples arrived. Camera flashes were going off left and right and reporters were shouting to be heard over the growing din.
She felt Shane’s lips at her ear once more.
“Any time you want to leave, just tell me.”
She glanced at Shane, so very debonair in his black tux. The photographers seemed to follow his every move, taking shot after shot of him. He took all the attention in stride, seemingly unfazed by the scrutiny. He answered the questions of a few of the reporters, smiling congenially.
He attended this event every year, and she was sure he’d never doubted that he’d make it through the evening before tonight. His previous dates had probably relished all the attention. She was a huge inconvenience to him, and the least she could do was suck it up and pretend she was having a good time.
“Mr. McIntyre!” yelled one of the reporters. “Who’s your date?”
Shane glared at the reporter. Then he said, “She’s a friend.”
A friend? Shane McIntyre and friend. For some reason, that cut right through Beth. She certainly hadn’t expected him to announce to all and sundry that they were dating, but she’d never expected him to withhold her name. Not that she wanted her name plastered all over the newspapers and Internet... she didn’t. But still, it hurt. Maybe she had been reading too much into his attention all along, or maybe he was starting to rethink his interest in her.
Shane didn’t miss the flash of hurt on Beth’s face when he withheld her name from the inquisitive reporter. But there was no way in hell he wanted her name plastered all over the Chicago newspapers and websites the following morning. The media tended to jump all over his dates like sharks at a chumfest, and most of them loved the attention and ate it up. But Beth wouldn’t appreciate being the center of attention like that, and he sure as hell didn’t want to make it easier for Kline to glean more information on Beth.
He’d hurt her, and he couldn’t explain why. Still, he felt compelled to say something. He reached for her hand. “I was protecting your privacy, Beth.”
She smiled at him. “It’s fine,” she said. “You don’t have to explain.”
Fuck.
They finally made their way into the crowded hotel lobby where dozens of couples milled around, most of them middle-aged and older. She tried not to stare at the ostentatious displays of diamonds and pearls.
Shane directed her to a reception table in front of the ballroom entrance.
“Shane!” A tiny woman with a cloud of short, white curls on her head reached out and grabbed Shane’s hand, squeezing it hard. “It’s so good to see you, dear!”
“Hi, Dottie,” Shane said, smiling at the woman as he pressed a kiss to her soft, wrinkled cheek. “Dottie Patterson, may I present my girlfriend, Beth Jamison.”
“Girlfriend!” Dottie cried, clasping her thin bony hands in delight. “Good Lord, I can’t believe it.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Beth said, smiling to mask her confusion. One minute she was a friend, and now she was his girlfriend again.
Dottie cast her pale blue eyes on Beth and smiled with approval. “I thought he’d never settled down.”
“Dottie’s husband is a retired pediatric cardiologist. He and my father worked closely together for decades.” Shane smiled down at the woman with genuine affection. “Dottie, where’s Gene?”
“Oh, he’s running around here somewhere,” Dottie said, in a tremulous voice. “When I see him, I’ll tell him you’re here. I know he’ll want to see you, dear.”
Inside the ballroom, magnificent crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and in the center of the room stood dozens of large round tables covered with white damask tablecloths. The tables were set with fine crystal and silver place settings. At one end of the ballroom was a stage where several chairs were placed behind a podium. A bar, orchestra, and dance floor were at the other end. Many of the male guests were already in line at the bar, while the women were scattered in small groups at the edge of the dance floor. Servers dressed in black pants, black dress shirts, and ties wandered through the ballroom carrying trays of hot hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes.
A smiling brunette dressed in a teal suit and white blouse approached them as they stepped inside the ballroom. “Good evening, Mr. McIntyre.”
“Good evening, Cheryl,” Shane said. “This is Miss Jamison.”
The woman consulted her clipboard. “You’re seated in the front, sir. If you’ll follow me.” She led them to one of the tables near the stage, where she pointed out their name cards.
Shane was seated to Beth’s right. He checked to see who’d be sitting on her left. “Would you please seat Dottie Patterson on Beth’s immediate left, and then Dr. Patterson beside Dottie?”
The woman made a quick notation on her clipboard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s check your purse at the cloakroom,” Shane said to Beth. “And then we’ll find you something to eat. It’ll be another hour at least before supper is served.”
“Sounds good,” Beth said, pasting a smile on her face. She’d hardly eaten anything all day, and she was starting to feel the effects. She knew she should eat something before she ended up in a puddle on the floor.
They wandered over to the cloakroom to check her clutch.
“I’ll keep your inhaler,” Shane said, holding out his hand. Beth handed him her inhaler, and he slipped it into his inside jacket pocket. “Just in case,” he said.
After they checked Beth’s clutch, Shane flagged down a server with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Beth selected a bite-sized warm quiche filled with spinach and an herbed cream cheese and popped it into her mouth. It melted in her mouth, and she moaned with delight.
Shane chuckled at her reaction and handed her two more of the tiny quiches. A moment later, he snagged another waiter and handed Beth a mini skewer with tiny cherry tomatoes and fresh mozzarella balls garnished with small pieces of fresh spinach leaf.
“Thank you, Shane, but that’s enough. If I eat much more, I won’t have any room for supper.”
Shane accepted two flutes of champagne from a passing server as he led Beth to a quiet spot out of the flow of traffic. He handed one of the glasses to her.
“To us,” he said, holding his glass toward hers. “To a memorable evening.”
“To us.” She tipped her glass against his, then took a sip of champagne.
The orchestra struck up a lively waltz and couples eager to dance took to the floor. She watched the couples flocking to the dance floor and hoped that Shane wouldn’t get any ideas along those lines.
It didn’t take her long to realize that Shane attracted a lot of attention. Even out of the way, as they were against the wall, a steady s
tream of people stopped by to talk to him. He was unfailingly polite, and he introduced her to almost everyone who stopped by. Eventually it all became one big blur to Beth.
“I sincerely hope there won’t be a test,” she said, during one of their rare moments alone. “I can’t possibly remember all these people’s names.”
“There’s no test, I promise,” he said, chuckling as he drew her close for a quick kiss. “Did I mention how lovely you look tonight?” he murmured, kissing her cheek.
“I think you did mention it.” She blushed at the blatant heat in his eyes.
She’d been doing a lot of that – blushing – throughout the evening. Many of the guests had ooh’d and ahh’d over her to Shane – particularly the older guests – as if she were a pet poodle he was showing off. She had received more than her fair share of compliments on her dress, her hair, her face, and on her eyes.
Dottie Patterson, one of the more welcome faces that Beth recognized, had dragged her husband, Gene, over to say hello. But not everyone had been quite so welcoming. A few of the guests – women, to be precise – had been courteous, but aloof, when Shane had introduced her. Those happened to be the younger women, relatively speaking, the ones under the age of 40 who eyed Shane with a directness Beth found inappropriate. They didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact they were undressing him with their eyes. Always polite, Shane seemed not to notice their fawning, but it had annoyed her to no end.
Shane had long since drained his champagne flute – and half of Beth’s as well – and was in the mood for something a little more substantial. They made their way through the throng of people chatting, networking, and dancing to the bar, where Shane ordered a whiskey neat for himself and a Coke for Beth.
“Would you like to dance?” he said, when they’d finished their drinks.
Beth frowned as she glanced at the packed dance floor. “Shane, I don’t know how to dance.”
“It’s easy, sweetheart. All you have to do is follow me.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Just one dance, please,” he said. “I’d really like to hold you in my arms right now.”
“All right,” she conceded. “But only if I can visit the ladies room first. My bladder is about to burst.”
Chapter 32
Beth’s trip to the ladies room wasn’t entirely a ploy to avoid dancing. After a partial glass of champagne, water, and a soft drink, her bladder really was about to burst. She also needed a break from the crushing crowd of well-wishers and curious onlookers. She’d lost count of how many people had stopped to speak to Shane and, out of politeness, to her. Most of them had been friendly enough, but a couple of the women had practically glared daggers at her.
To her surprise, Shane came inside the ladies’ room with her and did a quick sweep of the room. It was a large restroom, designed to support a large facility. There were two long rows of stalls separated by an equally long counter with a black marble top and a half-dozen sinks. On the counter stood elaborate flower arrangements and silver bowls of tiny, individually-wrapped soaps. Crystal chandeliers and velvet wallpaper with gold highlights added to the upscale ambiance.
The restroom wasn’t empty. Beth could hear the tell-tale quiet sounds of women using the facilities. But Shane had been discreet as he’d made his round.
Smothering a chuckle, Beth shooed him toward the exit. “What in the world were you looking for?” she whispered.
“You’d be surprised what goes on in public restrooms,” he whispered back.
A young woman in a housekeeping uniform entered the restroom just as Beth pushed Shane toward the door. The attendant, whose long black hair was pulled back in a pony tail, gaped at him.
“I was just leaving,” he said in a low voice. Then, to Beth, he said, “I’ll be right outside. Holler if you need me.”
“I think I can manage,” she said wryly, pushing him through the doorway.
Shane paused beside the restroom attendant and spoke quietly in her ear. The girl stared up at him in surprise and nodded. And then he was gone.
It was nice to have a brief moment of solitude. After nearly an hour of mingling in such a large crowd, she was reaching her limit. She just hoped that the meal would be served soon, so that the program could get underway.
She claimed a vacant stall and took care of business, using the break to rest for a moment and recharge her batteries. She tried to block out everything around her and concentrate on slowing her heart rate and taking deep, even breaths. After hearing a couple of women come and go, she figured she’d dallied long enough. She wouldn’t put it past Shane to come checking up on her.
When Beth finished washing her hands and turned off the faucet, the bathroom attendant handed her a towel.
“Thank you,” Beth said. She was halfway to the door when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Well, if it isn’t the jailbait,” a woman said in an acerbic voice.
Beth turned, recognizing the woman from Sylvia’s boutique. The woman Shane admitted he’d slept with. The woman’s expression was openly hostile. “Luciana.”
She’s a vain, shallow bitch.
Luciana sneered at Beth. “You’re a fucking genius, you know that?”
Immediately, Beth’s internal alarm bells started ringing, and her pulse rate skyrocketed as a wave of heat flashed through her. Her chest tightened painfully. Surely she’d misheard the woman. Beth glanced at the attendant, surprised to see her gaping at Luciana. Apparently, she hadn’t misheard the woman.
Luciana Morelli was dressed in a short, skin-tight, red sequined dress that barely covered her thighs. Her rich, dark hair was styled in a sophisticated chignon, and her wickedly long fingernails were painted a rich red, as were her pouty lips. The woman’s face was flawless, with artfully made up eyes, impossibly long lashes, and perfectly sculpted brows. On her feet were four-inch spiked heels.
Beth decided the prudent thing to do was simply ignore the woman, so she turned toward the door and resumed walking.
“I have to give you credit, though,” Luciana continued. “The whole virginal act is brilliant.”
Beth turned back. “Excuse me?”
“What man could resist this?” Luciana gestured at Beth. “How old are you anyway? Shane’s too smart to fall for jailbait; but sweetie, you’re about as close as a man can come to robbing the cradle without ending up in jail.”
Beth looked away from Luciana, partly to mask her embarrassment, and partly hoping that someone else would come along and Luciana would stop talking. But there was no one else in the room, except for the attendant who hung back silently, her dark eyes huge as she listened to the exchange.
The attendant glanced apologetically at Beth and muttered something under her breath before scurrying out of the restroom.
“You’ve got the high-and-mighty Shane McIntyre so twisted around your little finger he can’t see straight,” Luciana said. “What’s your secret?”
The woman’s tone was so blatantly bitter that Beth couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Whatever had happened between Luciana and Shane must have been unpleasant.
“That’s enough, Luciana!”
Beth jumped at the sound of Shane’s voice. She glanced back and found him standing just inside the restroom, his furious gaze locked on Luciana.
“Shane!” Luciana said, brightening instantly as she pasted a beatific smile on her face. At least she had the grace to blush.
“Get out, Luciana,” Shane said, his voice brittle.
This wasn’t his master-of-the-universe tone, Beth realized. He saved that tone for people he cared about. This was something completely different; this tone said “I’ll give you five seconds to do what I said, or you’ll wish to hell you had.”
Apparently, Luciana was familiar with that particular tone, because she stalked right past Beth without another word and left the restroom.
Shane released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I had
no idea she was in here, or I wouldn’t have left you. Luciana dislikes me, in case you hadn’t noticed, and that’s putting it mildly.”
“I think she dislikes me even more,” Beth said, melting into his embrace.
He scoffed. “We dated for a couple of months, about a year ago. She wanted more, I didn’t. She hasn’t forgiven me.”
“I can tell.” Beth looked up at him askance. “Have you dated every woman in Chicago?”
He chuckled. “Not hardly. Besides, it’s my net worth they’re interested in, not me personally.”
“I don’t believe that for one second.” Beth’s hands came up to smooth the lapels of his tuxedo. “It’s not your money women are interested in, Shane.”
The restroom door opened, and three women walked in, chatting excitedly. They stopped dead in their tracks when they noticed Shane.
“If you’ll excuse us, ladies,” Shane said, taking Beth’s hand and leading her out of the restroom.
Out in the hallway, the attendant stood wringing her hands.
“Thank you,” Shane said to her.
The young woman blushed, a smile completely transforming her anxious face. “You’re welcome, sir,” she whispered, and then she headed back into the restroom.
“Did she come out here to get you?” Beth said.
He nodded. “I asked her to watch out for you.”
Beth smiled, rising up on her toes to kiss him. “It’s not your money, Shane. It’s you.”
When they reentered the ballroom, a young woman in a black skirt and white blouse seated herself at the grand piano and began playing a waltz by Mozart. The dance floor was still crowded with eager – if not entirely skilled – couples showing off the fruits of their expensive dance lessons.
“I think I’ll get another drink,” Shane said. “Do you want anything?”
“No, thanks,” Beth said. “You go. I’ll wait here and watch the dancing.”
Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) Page 28