Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  “We’re not friends or anything.”

  Her response is not reassuring. I have a feeling the other student doesn’t understand or respect personal boundaries. “Maybe you need to move to another dorm. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  She gapes at me like I’m crazy, but I trust my instincts.

  “It’s okay.” Her hand touches my wrist and I realize I am white-knuckling the steering wheel. I consciously loosen my grip. “He looks at everyone like that.”

  The leather squeaks as my fingers tighten again. I stare at her in disbelief, wanting to pull out my hair at her naiveté. “That doesn’t make it better!”

  She huffs and I try to ignore how cute she looks. “Stop acting like Cael. Josh is weird, not dangerous. And I’m not going to change dorms just because you think he’s strange!”

  “He could be dangerous!” I counter.

  “He hasn’t done anything wrong, Sean. He’s just socially awkward.” There’s an underlying plea in her voice.

  “There’s something in his eyes I don’t like.”

  She has the nerve to roll her eyes at me and I don’t know whether to laugh or to growl.

  “It’s a statistical fact that every class has a misfit. You’re being paranoid,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. “Just drop it.”

  Her expression remains unchanged when I put on my tough cop mask and I growl in exasperation and defeat.

  “Fine,” I say curtly. “But if that fucker does anything to bother you, you let me know. Actually, why don’t you tell me his last name and I’ll run a background check on him when I get back to the office?”

  She looks horrified. “You can’t do that! It’s a violation of an innocent citizen’s civil rights. Not to mention you’re wasting taxpayer dollars!”

  “Like I give a fuck!”

  Her mouth drops open and then she laughs. “God! You’re a nut!”

  I grin. “Don’t tell my chief.”

  God, when did I start craving the sound of her laughter?

  When we arrive at my father’s Tribeca apartment, the room is already filled with the cream of New York society. The Senator makes a big show of greeting me, drawing everyone’s attention, and I know the press must be covering the event. I paste a smile on my face and don my public persona. I’ve done this a million times, but it never gets easier.

  He hugs Maggie and regards her with an indulgent smile. “How are you, Maggie? You look beautiful.” He has always had a soft spot for her.

  “Thank you. I’m fine, sir. How are you?” She shoots him a sweet smile.

  “I’m well. Are you enjoying school?”

  “It’s great so far. We’ll see after final grades come out. Maybe I’ll have to come work for you as a staffer after that.”

  My father chuckles and touches her cheek affectionately. “I doubt it, dear, but you’re welcome to work for me anytime.”

  I shudder thinking about Maggie swimming in that shark tank. “I’m going to introduce Maggie around,” I say and place my hand at her back. Her flesh feels warm and supple under my palm. I can’t help noticing that if I spread my fingers, I will touch the top of her ass. In her heels, her backside is even more enticing than usual. I jerk my hand a few inches north.

  “Thanks for inviting me, sir,” she says over her shoulder.

  “Enjoy the party, my dear,” my father says before turning to greet the next guest.

  Maggie pauses to talk to Gail, but I quickly steer her past my stepmother, who gives us a stony smile.

  We are stopped by a number of my father’s political allies. I hate idle chitchat, but I slide easily into the skin of the smooth-talking son of a senator. I worry that Maggie will grow bored, but her innate curiosity keeps the guests engaged. Growing tired of the inane conversations, I finally guide us to a quiet spot near the bar.

  “These things are always more bearable after a few drinks. What would you like?”

  “Ooh…do you think the bartender knows how to make a chocolatini?”

  “A what?” I ask, half-laughing.

  “A chocolatini. It’s made with vodka, chocolate and Bailey’s.”

  “That sounds like a chick drink.”

  She laughs and elbows me. “I am a chick.”

  My eyes drop to the unmistakable evidence that she is a woman and I close my eyes in aggravation. Maybe Marc’s right and I need to get laid. My last attempt was a disaster, but I can’t continue to lust after forbidden fruit.

  “Hi, Sean!”

  My eyes pop open at the perky voice calling my name and I groan inwardly. I hadn’t realized Alicia Samuelson was going to be here. Recalling the benefit dinner two weeks ago, I shudder. She had clung to me all night, giving everyone the impression that we were there as a couple. I had been pissed as hell when I saw some of the tabloid headlines the next day. She had called me a few times after our so-called date, but I had skillfully dodged her attempts to get me to go out again with her.

  Tonight, her beauty has been polished to a high shine. Her blonde hair is draped over one bare shoulder. She stands with her weight on one leg, showing off her toned thigh through the side slit of her black sequined dress. Cynically, I consider how long she has practiced this pose in front of a mirror to strike the perfect balance of appearing both seductive and artless.

  I force the muscles in my cheeks to pull up in false welcome. “Alicia! You look stunning. You put every woman in the room to shame.” The facile compliment rolls glibly off my tongue.

  She peers coyly at me through her lashes and laughs. “You were always the charmer, Sean Rowan.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses both cheeks. Her cloying perfume envelopes me and I breathe shallowly. Why do woman want to douse themselves in this stuff? Men like natural scents, like cinnamon—

  I cut off my wayward thought.

  Alicia’s lips linger a bit too long and I stifle a sigh of annoyance. She may be stunning, but her beauty leaves me cold. I may as well be dead below the belt when I look at her.

  I pull back and smile woodenly. “My father didn’t mention you’d be here tonight.”

  “My firm is doing some work for his campaign and he thought I should know a bit more about his inner circle.” She lays her hand on my lapel and peers at me coyly. “We really should get together for drinks one of these days.”

  I hope my smile hasn’t morphed into a grimace. “What? You mean a big shot lawyer like you will have time for a lowly public servant?”

  As intended, she laughs and before she can press the point, I say, “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Maggie Jackson. Maggie, this is an old friend, Alicia Samuelson.”

  “Hello, Maggie,” Alicia murmurs. Her blue eyes sweep appraisingly over Maggie and I grind my teeth. Now I remember why I never liked her. She always viewed every female as a competitor and every male as a possible trophy.

  “Nice to meet you, Alicia.” After shaking Alicia’s hand, Maggie looks curiously between us. “How do you know each other?”

  I stiffen when Alicia stands a little too close to me and links our arms as if we were a couple. “Sean and I used to date years ago and we recently reconnected.” She pats my chest, her manicured nails glinting in the light. “Now, why in the world did we break up?” Her head tilts flirtatiously, as if we are sharing an intimate memory.

  Maggie’s eyes meet mine and suddenly my bowtie feels too tight. “Uh…it was just one of those things, I guess.” I try to pull my arm away. “If you’ll excuse us, Alicia, Maggie and I were just about to get a drink and something to eat.”

  She sticks out her lower lip and clutches my sleeve. “Oh, I was hoping we could finish our last conversation from the other night...” She trails off suggestively and winks. “Remember?”

  “Uh…” Actually I don’t. Shit, how do I get out of this one? I don’t want to insult her at my father’s party, especially in front of the press.

  Maggie makes a noise in the back of her throat, drawing my eyes. There’s a str
ange fixed smile on her face as she looks at Alicia and me. “You must have a lot to talk about. Don’t worry about me, Sean. I’m going to get my chocolatini and go talk to Dr. Gupta again. I’d love to know more about his work at the CDC. I’ll see you later.”

  Before I can protest, she walks over to the bar and the bartender leans over to take her order. He says something that makes her laugh and my gut clenches.

  “Oh, is that your girlfriend?”

  “No,” I say absently. “She’s my friend’s little sister.” If that Asshole bartender—capital A—leans any closer, he’d fall down the front of Maggie’s dress. I need to find out who he is and make sure the Senator never hires him again.

  When Alicia presses her breast against my arm, I tense. I want to shake her off, but I know I can’t cause a scene.

  “Well, it looks like your friend’s sister is having a good time with the bartender. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she says. Without waiting for my assent, Alicia tugs me toward a corner of the room. When I look back at Maggie, she waves and then returns to her conversation with the Asshole.

  I grind my teeth as he flashes a smile at her. You won’t be smiling when you’re fired, dumbass.

  I lose sight of Maggie for a while and Alicia hangs onto me like a fucking limpet. The more alcohol she ingests, the clingier she becomes and my patience is dangerously low. My eyes keep searching the room for a mop of red hair, but I can’t see Maggie. I check the bar and exhale in relief when I spot the Asshole pouring a glass of wine for another guest.

  “Excuse me, Alicia. I need to check on my friend.” Why does this woman feel like she has ten arms? I disentangle myself as gently as I can, but I don’t want to spend another minute with her. Besides, I have more than fulfilled my promise to the Senator by enduring her company for as long as I have.

  “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Her voice is high and whiny, grating on my already raw nerves.

  “I’m sure we’ll have time to catch up later, but I’m going to look for Maggie,” I say firmly and walk away, ignoring her pout. My eyes sweep the room, but there’s no sign of Maggie. The doctor we spoke to earlier is in deep conversation with another man. I’m about to call her phone when I spot the door to the balcony.

  Just as I’m about to step outside, my father appears at my side with a bearded man in tow. “Son, I’ve been looking for you.”

  I try to hide my impatience and smile. “Hi, Dad.” Always Dad in public. Got to keep up the image of a happy family. “What’s up?”

  “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He gestures to the other man. “Professor Matthews, this is my son, Sean. Professor Matthews heads the School of Law at NYU.”

  My father places his hand on my shoulder and I brace myself. I already know where this is going and it doesn’t take long for the old man to make his pitch.

  “Professor Matthews, I’ve been telling my son he should consider attending your program. He’s currently in the NYPD, but I think he can do better. He would make an excellent attorney or maybe even a judge one day.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sean. Your father has told me so much about you. We would love to have you on board next fall. I’ll be happy to give you a personal tour of the school if you’d like.”

  My smile scarcely qualifies as a baring of teeth. Sorry, but you won’t be getting that money for a new library from Senator Rowan after all.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Professor Matthews and that’s a very generous offer. I’m sure NYU has a wonderful law program. I don’t know what my father has told you, but I have no ambition to be anything other than a cop.”

  The professor shoots my father an uncomprehending look, as if he couldn’t fathom someone not wanting to go to law school.

  “Sean, it wouldn’t hurt to see the school,” my father prods.

  I open my mouth to curtly decline the offer again, but a voice next to me says defiantly, “Who wants to be a scummy lawyer anyway?”

  All of my annoyance and hurt vanish at Maggie’s scornful question and the corners of my mouth curl up. My father and the professor look aghast as she glares at them.

  Placing her hand on my arm in silent support, she juts out her chin. “I think what Sean does is amazing. He works hard to keep everyone in this city safe. Did you know he has the highest clearance rate in the city? Why would you think he could do better? What do lawyers do but suck the blood from their clients?”

  The professor starts to slowly back away from her like she’s a rabid animal ready to rip him to shreds. “Um…I need to talk to…uh…” He turns tail and scurries away.

  But the little dynamo isn’t done with my father. She jabs an accusing finger at him. “You should be proud of what Sean has done in his career! You should be singing his praises to everyone. Do you know how hard it is to become a detective? Do you?” Her voice grows more irate with each sentence, garnering a few curious glances from other guests.

  Her spirited defense of me makes my heart swell with emotion. Nobody has ever stood up for me like this and I don’t know how to describe my emotions, but my heart feels too big for my chest cavity.

  My avenging angel.

  My father’s mouth opens and closes like a trout out of water.

  She takes a deep breath as if she’s ready to blast him some more and I place my hand over her mouth.

  “Maggie, enough!” I admonish with a short laugh. A minute ago, I would never have thought I would find this scenario amusing, but she’s completely cowed one of the most powerful men in the country with her tirade.

  She shoots me an apologetic look and removes my hand. “Um…sorry.” Looking at my father, she mumbles, “I’m sorry for yelling.” Then she adds pugnaciously, “But I’m not sorry for what I said.”

  To my utter shock, my father starts to laugh. When he sobers, he takes a step closer to her and holds her face between his hands. “Thank you, my dear. You’re right.” He bends down to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he says renders her cheeks bright pink. She drops her eyes and stares at the floor in embarrassment.

  Releasing her, he turns to me and claps me on the shoulder. “Sorry, Sean. I didn’t mean to imply I was ashamed of your choices. We won’t talk about graduate school unless you want to.”

  “Uh…” I can’t find my voice to respond because my brain is short-circuiting. This is the first time he’s ever said anything that resembles approval.

  “Now I’m going to find the professor to smooth over the waters.” He looks at Maggie and says, “Maggie, I’d love for you to come to dinner at the house in a few weeks. Sean will let you know when I’m back in town.” Without waiting for a response, he leaves to search for the offended academic.

  Now that the heat of her anger has burned off, she looks uncertain. Her chin drops to her chest and she mumbles, “I’m sorry I got carried away.”

  Chuckling, I clasp her hand and squeeze. “There’s no need to apologize. You were magnificent.”

  “What I said is true. I think cops are pretty incredible. You make people feel safe and that’s pretty damn important in my book.”

  My throat fucking closes up on me. In a few simple sentences she humbles me and makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.

  I try to lighten the mood. “Did you see how scared they looked when you started to advance toward them? The NYPD needs to hire you to teach our new recruits intimidation tactics.”

  She hides her red face in my shoulder and makes a mortified sound.

  “Want to get out of here?” I ask.

  She jerks her head up, eyes searching. “What about Alicia?”

  “What about her?”

  Her lashes lower over her eyes. “If you want to stay and catch up with her, I can catch a cab back to my dorms. It’s not a big deal.”

  The idea of spending another minute with the self-important blonde makes me shudder in distaste. “No, let’s blow this joint and go grab something real to eat.”

  “Okay,” she
says quietly.

  Keeping her hand in mine, I lead her out of the apartment.

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie

  Fingers tingling from the warmth of Sean’s hold, I follow him through the crowd. My face is still flushed with embarrassment.

  This evening has been one long, bad idea, culminating in me making an utter ass of myself by confronting the Senator.

  When I saw Sean in his tux, I should have listened to my instincts and cancelled.

  The man looked freaking scrumptious and I wasn’t surprised to find a group of girls—and a few men—eyeing him like a luscious bon-bon. Slim hips. Wide shoulders. Beautiful eyes bright against the tan of his skin. Honey gold hair streaked with sun-lightened platinum strands. My pooling saliva threatened to overflow my mouth. When he pulled me in for a hug, my body had lit up like a roman candle. And he smelled so good. Male and clean.

  All the feelings I had been fighting for the last month—no for years—came crashing over me like a tsunami.

  Which was why it felt like salt rubbed into a fresh wound when he started to flirt with the stunning blonde I recognized from the photo on the gossip site. I couldn’t stand to watch their intimate interactions and to save my dignity, I had walked over to the bar to order my chick drink. When he strode away with her, I pasted a smile on my face and pretended it didn’t bother me. That it didn’t hurt.

  Stupid, naïve Maggie. This was never a date, I remind myself. Even in my new dress and carefully applied makeup, I can’t compete for his attention because he can’t see me as anything but a friend.

  I had been on the balcony, avoiding the sight of Alicia pressing her toned body against his, when I overheard his conversation with his father. My heart ached for Sean. I couldn’t believe the Senator would hurt his son so thoughtlessly by disparaging Sean’s career choice.

  Years of being in the public eye have sharpened Sean’s ability to hide his emotions, but I read a history of pain on his stoic face. I had always liked the Senator, but in that moment, I could have strangled him for his thoughtless words.