“You should’ve left me at home. I’m just going to embarrass you.”
He placed his hand over hers to stop the nervous gesture. “You’re going to be fine. I’m not going to leave your side.”
Declan stopped at a traffic light as he drove to the Civic Center only a mile from their home.
“I’ve never been to a fundraiser before.”
“It’s just a big party with a few short speeches. You’ve gone to parties before haven’t you?”
She shrugged, mindlessly looking out the window at her surroundings as they passed from their neighborhood to the downtown area by crossing a single six-lane road. “Do school Christmas parties count?”
His head pivoted and he looked at her wide-eyed. “Really?”
“I’ve been invited by coworkers. But I usually volunteered to work, so someone else could go. More money for me! Usually their parties are just an excuse to drink too much on someone’s birthday or during the Super Bowl. It’s not really my kind of thing.”
He doubted the daughter of the town drunk garnered many invitations when she was younger, so he didn’t pursue it.
“Well, it’s not going to be quite like that. Just relax, it’s going to be fun.”
“Will everyone there be a doctor?” she asked, biting her lip.
He shook his head and spared a glance at her. “No, of course not. There will be all sorts of people there. Probably all the higher-ups from the university, the school of medicine and the hospital will attend with their spouses. City politicians like these things because they are always looking for potential donors for their campaigns. There might even be a few corporate bigwigs—you know, bank and store managers, business owners, maybe even a few lawyers. Of course there will be alums from all walks of life and people whose parents are residents at the Garrison Center.”
Nyxie’s eyes opened wide as she looked at him. “People live there?”
He nodded. “That’s what makes Tech’s program so unique.”
“There must be a lot of competition for the fellowships.”
“Honestly, I really don’t know,” he said, pulling the car into a parking place.
“That’s it?” she asked. “This is barely a mile from your house. We could’ve walked.”
“In those shoes?”
She gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. “Wouldn’t you carry me if I got a blister?”
He chuckled. “Actually, I would.”
She recognized the Civic Center from a few school field trips when she was young. She’d seen the symphony play in the fourth grade and attended the Nutcracker in the third. Unlike those events, most of the building appeared dark and empty, with only the area near the entrance illuminated by the overhead lights.
Nyxie held Declan’s hand in a death grip as they entered the large banquet hall. Half the room was filled with linen covered dining tables and a small stage with a podium. The other end of the room had been set up with poker tables. At the check-in table, they were given their table number and “Hello, my name is…” stickers with their names neatly written in calligraphy.
Nyxie would’ve preferred to go to their table and sit down, but Declan led her into the throng of attendees.
“Champagne?” a server asked, dressed in black pants and vest with a tuxedo shirt.
“No thanks,” Declan said, smiling at Nyxie.
“You don’t have to forgo on my behalf,” she said.
“I have plans for us afterwards,” he whispered into her ear.
She knew he was referring to the hard limit she had set, in which she told him she didn’t want him to touch her if he had been drinking. She had really only meant for it to be a hard limit when it came to causing her pain, but she wasn’t going to correct him if he thought she meant no sex also—at least not until she could see what he was like under the influence.
Nyxie mustered the best smile she could manage under the circumstances. She felt completely out of her league in the company of the city’s movers and shakers. She tried her best to smile at the people to whom he spoke. But as nervous and uncomfortable as she felt, the knowledge that he was by her side, helped her get through it. Eventually, she conceded that no one there wanted to make fun of her, nor did they treat her as if she didn’t belong.
“Don’t you look pretty,” a female voice said in her ear, making her turn around to find Emily Saunders had come up behind her.
Declan had to release her hand when she turned around, but placed his arm around her waist when he found her other hand containing her small clutch.
“Thank you,” Nyxie said. “I didn’t think I’d know anyone here tonight.”
“Declan didn’t tell you he invited me?”
“Slipped my mind,” he said. “They gave me a corporate table with my donation. I invited Joseph and his date too.”
“Dang, Stryker, how much did you donate?”
Declan stared at Emily as if to ask, “Are you really asking me that question?”
“Uh, sorry,” she said blushing. “I barely have enough to live and make payments on my student loans. This is a real treat for me. Thanks for the invitation.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“I have to ask,” Emily said suddenly. “How can you afford this?”
“I guess since you’re an Aggie, I’ll have to explain it to you. I don’t have student loans. I paid for college and this, with my inheritance. My grandfather was a roughneck in the oilfields back in the 70s. He invented some device,” he said, slipping his arm from Nyxie’s back and making a gesture with his hands to show the object in question was about the size of a basketball. “It made the pump jacks work more efficiently. The company paid him a couple of million in stock options. During the oil embargo, he made millions, but when OPEC flooded the country with cheap oil in the 80s, it put the company out of business and he lost most of it.”
Emily aped his hand movements. “What was it called?”
“Grams called it the eyesore. Gramps used to keep the prototype on the mantle in the living room, and every Thanksgiving, he would move her centerpiece to the credenza and placed the eyesore in the middle of the table. That thing was covered in grease and stunk of crude, but it sat on our dining room table every Thanksgiving.”
Both Nyxie and Emily laughed. “I bet your grandmother loved that.”
He shrugged. “She bought him a big Plexiglas box to put it in like some museum piece. He liked that,” Declan said with a chuckle. “They always managed to compromise.”
Nyxie moved her clutch to the other hand and reached for Declan’s left hand. He gave it a little squeeze and tugged her close enough that their arms were touching.
Declan’s attention was suddenly diverted to a man walking past. “Dr. Wilkins, good to see you again,” he said, extending his right hand and effectively stopping the man.
Dr. Wilkins grasped Declan’s hand, but his eyes were on the name badge on Declan’s chest. “Mr. Stryker, good of you to come.”
“You probably don’t remember me. We met at last year’s fundraiser.”
“Forgive me, I meet so many people at these things.”
“You told me I should apply for the fellowship.”
“Oh, you’re a doctor? Yes, I think I remember you now. Family medicine. Went to some place prestigious.”
“Yale,” Declan supplied.
“Well, apply again. This year everyone we’re talking to is either an internist or researcher. Maybe next time.”
Declan felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He forced himself to smile. “It was good to see you again, Dr. Wilkins,” Declan said, dismissing the man.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, extending his hand to shake before leaving.
Declan watched the man’s back as he disappeared into the crowd.
“You’re hurting me,” Nyxie said, her voice tight and low.
Declan turned back to her, ready to defend her from whoever was hurting her when he realized he was the guilty party. In his distract
ed state, he had unintentionally tightened his grip on her hand.
“Sorry,” he said, loosening his hold.
“You didn’t get your fellowship?” Emily asked. “That’s a sorry way to find out. Where else did you apply?” Declan stared at her a few seconds, so lost in thought, her words barely penetrated his consciousness.
“It never occurred to me I wouldn’t get it. This is the only place I applied.”
“Dumb ass.”
He shrugged in an attempt to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, but in truth, he felt devastated. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to fix this setback.
Declan caught a passing server. “Miss, would you bring me a bourbon—whatever you’ve got on the top shelf is fine—make it a double,” he said, sparing a slight glance at Nyxie. Because the Civic Center only brought in alcohol for the event, Declan knew he had little choice of what he would get.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get your fellowship,” Nyxie said compassionately. She shifted her position and hugged him, releasing his hands so she could put both arms around him.
Declan peeled her arms from around his body. “I’m fine,” he said. His arms crossed over his chest and he shifted his weight on his back foot, putting more distance between Emily and him.
He saw the hurt flash across Nyxie’s features when he rejected her embrace, but it was against his nature to show weakness in public. How many times had his father cursed out one of his players for acting upset or showing their pain? Declan had learned soon after his mother took him from his grandparents, that he was expected to set the example.
Nyxie watched as he crossed his arms over his chest and knew he was far from fine. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him take such a closed off stance.
“So now what?” Emily asked.
“I didn’t get where I am by giving up. Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Dr. Renaldo about changing over to an internal medicine residency.”
“You’re going to start your residency over?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
Nyxie stopped listening to their conversation as they began talking about the aspects of residency that were out of her scope of experience. She knew she should be listening, but all she could think about was that Declan was hurting and he was turning to alcohol rather than letting her help.
He handed the server a $20 bill, letting her keep the change when she brought his drink a few minutes later.
A woman began tapping on the microphone up on the small stage across the room. “If everyone will find their seats, we will begin serving the meal. I’d like to introduce UMC’s chaplain, Rev. Charles Sinclair, who’ll give our benediction tonight.”
Nyxie was surprised that the preacher wasn’t wearing the weird collar as they did in the movies. He wore a nice suit like several men in the room who did not have tuxedos. He looked vaguely familiar to her and she gasped when she realized where she’d seen him before.
Declan heard the sound she made, but before he could ask, the preacher began praying. He blessed the food, thanked God for the generosity of the donors, and prayed that everyone would remember why they were there.
When the prayer was complete, Declan pinned her down with a hard stare. She leaned closer to him. “That’s the man I told to go fuck himself after they took the girls.”
“Oh,” he said with a slight chuckle. “If you run into him later, you better apologize or you might burn in hell.”
“Good to see you again, Stryker,” Joseph’s date said, rising to his feet and stretching out his arm to shake Declan’s hand across the table. “Why don’t you introduce me to everyone.”
“Good to see you again, Ari. Our pathetic dateless companion is Emily Saunders. She’s going into gynecology. And this is my new bride, Nyxie.”
“You two tied the knot?” Joseph asked before Ari could greet either woman.
“I couldn’t say no,” Nyxie said, with an ill-concealed smile.
“Let me see the ring.”
Joseph pulled out his cell phone, snapped a picture and sent it off to Treshaun. “I can’t believe you didn’t invite me.”
“It was a small justice-of-the-peace thing. We’re going to have another ceremony for friends and family when Cody is out of the hospital,” Declan said. “I take it you would like an invitation?”
“Of course.”
“I would too,” Emily said.
“I doubt I’ll be able to get more time off,” Ari said gazing down at the display of his phone.
“I understand,” Declan said. “I appreciate you coming tonight.” He turned to Joseph. “Am I paid in full?”
“Paid in full for what?” Emily asked, before the nurse could answer.
“I told Joseph I’d set him up on a date with a doctor if he took really good care of Cody.” Declan said, before the nurse could explain it was a bribe to keep Joseph from telling anyone that he had sedated Nyxie without permission the night Cody was hurt.
Joseph stifled an involuntary sound that came out of his mouth as if he wanted to contradict Declan, but wouldn’t.
“Cody is Nyxie’s brother. Pick-up versus bike,” he explained to Ari, knowing he would understand the emergency department lingo for an accident involving the two vehicles without further explanation.
“I didn’t know you were going to set me up with the doctor who lives in Florida.”
“He’s the only gay doctor I know.”
Joseph turned to Ari, “It’s not that I’m not glad to meet you. I’m just tired of bars and short-term relationships and I wasn’t really looking for a long-distance relationship.”
“I understand completely,” Ari said. “He didn’t really tell me much either, just that I’d be doing him a big favor and he’d pay for everything. So I thought, why not.”
“You’re quiet tonight, Nyxie,” Emily said across Declan.
“I don’t really have anything interesting to say.”
Emily laughed. “That doesn’t stop most people.”
Declan scooted his chair closer to Nyxie and put his arm around her back. “Don’t pick on Nyxie,” he said to Emily. “It’s the first time she’s gone to one of these things. She’s been trying to figure out how to get out of coming since I told her about it.”
“Well, I’ve never been to a fundraiser either,” Joseph said. “But I intend to get Dr. Stryker’s money’s worth. So, when the gambling begins, do we have to buy chips or are they included with the ticket?”
“I was planning on providing everyone with chips,” Declan said, knowing he was probably the only person there who could afford a decent stake. “I’m giving you an extra hundred for taking Nyxie to the boutique for those awesome shoes.”
Emily ducked her head to look at Nyxie’s shoes and mouthed the word, wow at her when she came back up.
Shaking his head, Joseph threw his hands up. “It was all Treshaun.”
“So buy him a gift at the auction if you don’t lose it all.”
Joseph picked up a card on the table and looked at the auction items. “Maybe I will—though honestly, he had the time of his life. He loved dressing Nyxie—his real-life doll. She’s so slender, the clothes hang beautifully on her body.”
“She’s too thin,” Declan said disapprovingly.
If Joseph heard him, he ignored the comment. “You should’ve heard Treshaun going on and on, telling Nyxie if she were taller, she could’ve been a model.”
“She’s too thin,” he said more forcefully. He turned to Ari. “Amenorrhea.”
Nyxie’s face grew warm as she realized he had told the other doctor she wasn’t having her period.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Nyxie said suddenly. “The status of my period is no one’s business but my own. Jeez. Now everyone is going to think I’m anorexic or bulimic. They’re all going to watch every bite I eat, and if I go to the restroom afterwards, everyone will assume I’m going in there to barf. It’s not as if I wasn’t self-conscious enough.”
“Ev
eryone here is a medical professional, Nyxie.”
“Really? Well, why don’t you tell them about your period,” she said defensively.
Declan eyed her for a few seconds before turning to everyone else at the table. “I’m not getting mine either,” he said, making everyone laugh.
As quickly as she had escalated the tension, he had defused it with his little joke. A begrudging smile emerged on Nyxie’s face. Her face turned redder as she realized she had made a huge fuss over a small comment. Declan’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he gave her a small side hug and she understood it was an apology for embarrassing her.
Before they could say more, the table was surrounded by servers filling their goblets with water and ice tea. As soon as they moved on to the next table, more servers came placing bowls of orangey yellow soup in front of them; each was adorned with two mint leaves and three small cantaloupe balls.
“What is it?” Nyxie whispered to Declan.
“Cold cantaloupe soup.”
The truck stop had both soup and chili during the winter, so Nyxie had no trouble picking out the soupspoon. As she took her first bite, Declan stopped one of the cocktail waitresses, handed her his empty glass and asked for another double. He offered to buy a round for anyone at the table who wanted a drink and Emily who had already visited the makeshift bar, asked for another glass of Llano Estacado Viognier, and Ari and Joseph opted for beer. Declan raised his eyebrows at Nyxie to silently ask if she wanted anything. She gave her head and almost imperceivable shake. She knew he had offered her a drink to be polite, but already knew she didn’t want one.
As the meal progressed, the conversation turned to discussions about the food and other inane topics. Neither Nyxie nor Declan contributed much to the conversation, but Nyxie was acutely aware of Declan’s mood. She had never seen him so quiet, and knew he was upset over not getting the fellowship. If they had been alone, she would have tried to comfort him in any way she could think of—including but not limited to trying to distract him with sex.
The Love He Craves (The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan Book 2) Page 20