“Do you have any idea what your touch does to me?” His voice dropped, his lips parted and he looked at her mouth.
He was going to kiss her. And not a friendly peck, either. A full-on mouth-to-mouth smooch. As much as she craved him, she couldn’t allow it. This was a business event, an important fundraiser, and he the magnet. Kissing his wealth manager was not only bad publicity, it could thrust her into the spotlight. She jerked back and bumped into someone.
“Oh, my apologies, Mrs. Mitus.”
What?
She’d crashed into the photographer.
“Mr. Mitus, a few shots, please?” asked the young man.
Brigit moved away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Colton covered her shoulder with his hand and pulled her close. “You’re far too beautiful to leave unescorted.”
Gazing up at him, she murmured, “Then don’t.”
When the photographer finished, the bartender asked for Colton’s drink order. “Sparking water with lime.”
Damn. She couldn’t drink if he wasn’t. That man had a knack for thwarting her plans. He collected his drink and they stepped into the mingling fray.
A man sidled over. “Hello, Colton. Wilson Montgomery of MobiCom.” Montgomery’s long, hard stare sent goose bumps erupting on Brigit’s arms. Standing a head below Colton, his plastic-looking toothy grin was framed by his salt and pepper mustache and goatee.
With an icy expression and narrowed eyes, Colton said, “Cornering me at my gala?”
“It’s time we become one big happy family.” Wilson raised his glass, toasted the air and sipped.
Colton morphed into a block of granite. “Francesco voted against the merger. Move on.”
“Francesco turned down an eight percent premium on the share price. Advise them to revote the merger, Colton. And do it Monday. I want this wrapped up before Thanksgiving. Do I make myself clear?”
Her blood pressure jumped. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
While staring at Montgomery, he rose to his full height. The air grew electric with anger. “Don’t you dare threaten me,” Colton said with controlled rage. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” With a firm grip on Brigit’s arm, he led her away. “Montgomery is the last person I’d ever do business with,” he bit out.
Hatred billowed from his jet black eyes. “I’m right there with you,” she said pulling him to a stop. “He’s trouble.” When he gazed into her eyes, the fury dissolved. “Forget about him. He’s nobody.” With an assuring smile, she caressed his shoulder. “This is your gala. Time to rock this.”
Amidst the swirling sea of D.C. power, Colton’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Thank you.”
Brimming with the confidence Brigit had come to admire, Colton greeted guests until the announcement for dinner. On the way to their table, Brigit heard something that caused her body to stiffen.
“Eve!”
Oh, no! Keep walking.
A woman caught up with her and Colton. “What a great surprise!”
With her heart pounding against her rib cage, Brigit stared blankly at the familiar face of her college friend.
“I’m Heather Peters, from Penn.” Her eyebrows shot up. “We froze our bottoms off during football games at Franklin Field.”
“I’m sorry, Heather. I think you’ve confused me with someone else. I’m Brigit Farnay.”
Heather’s face flushed. “Oh, how embarrassing. You look like my old friend, Eve—”
“Heather,” blurted Brigit, “this is Colton Mitus, tonight’s cohost.”
“Hello, Heather,” Colton extended his hand. “What brings you to our fundraiser?”
Breathe.
“I’m an attorney at Fitzsimmons and Collier,” Heather replied. “Mark Fitzsimmons encouraged all his attorneys to attend. It’s a great cause with tons of networking opportunities.”
“Well put.” He glanced around. “I haven’t seen Mark. Is he here?”
“He is. We have a Fitz and Collier table. I’ll tell him you asked about him. I swear, Brigit, you look so much like my old friend. They say everyone has a double. Now I believe it!”
“Pleasure meeting you.” Brigit hoped she wasn’t sporting the zombie look. Too close.
To her surprise and delight, Seth and his wife, Barbara, along with clients Frederick and Alyssa Mundy, were already seated at their table.
Seth hugged Brigit, then gave Colton a hardy handshake. “As I’d expect, things going well?”
“Very well.” Colton pulled out Brigit’s chair. “Brigit’s doing a fantastic job.”
Brigit pulled her dress train around and sat. “I’m doing my best to manage Colton’s portfolio.”
“Did I call this one or what?” Seth exclaimed.
“Goodness, honey, a little humility goes a long way,” Barbara said. “Business aside, you two look stunning together.”
Brigit’s face warmed. “Oh, no, we’re just—”
“Thank you,” Colton said, then facilitated introductions.
Inwardly, she smiled. Rather than draw attention by protesting, Colton was being polite. She snuck a peek at him. Did they look like they belonged together?
During dinner Colton said very little, ensuring all guests had ample time to carry the conversation, but Brigit could tell he was still perturbed by Montgomery’s threat. At nine thirty, Colton whispered, “Check my teeth for spinach.” His grin sent her heart into a flutter.
“Nice choppers. Are they real?” With a playful smile, she nodded. “You’re good.”
“But I’m better with you,” he murmured.
Her heart bloomed. What a charmer.
After excusing himself, he walked onstage and stepped up to the podium. “Good evening.” As Colton waited for the chatter to die down, he slipped his hand into his pocket and smiled at the crowd.
He looks like speaking to seven hundred is no big deal.
“For those I haven’t had the privilege of meeting, I’m Colton Mitus. Along with cohost Crockett Wilde, I’d like to welcome you to our intimate little gathering.”
Calm. Confident. Charismatic.
His message focused on the charity and the value of a donation. After introducing the ten guests of honor—veterans and their families—he cited how the organization provided customized homes or specialized wheelchairs with those funds.
Was his speech memorized or was he speaking extemporaneously? He knew when to pause, when to insert humor, and when to make his earnest plea for those in need, who’d served their country so admirably.
“Tonight I ask that everyone give something.” Pausing, he gazed around the ballroom. “Make a positive difference by adding a zero to your pledge.”
Brigit pulled her checkbook from her evening bag. She would have donated regardless, but his impassioned speech left her with a newfound respect for the man she’d once believed was motivated solely by his own financial gain.
34
The Hypnotist
Anger clouded Colton’s thoughts. If he weren’t flush in the spotlight at this multimillion-dollar charity event, he would have decked Montgomery, then had him thrown out. Forcing a smile, he set the stage for the evening’s entertainment. “We’re in for a treat this evening. Renowned hypnotist Jerry Gardner is joining us.”
The guests broke into applause.
“And my cohost, Crockett Wilde, has agreed to be hypnotized. Let’s give Crockett a warm welcome.”
As Crockett walked onto the stage, several women hollered catcalls. “You’ve got admirers.” Smiling, Colton shook Crockett’s hand.
Crockett leaned close to the microphone. “Well, thank you, ladies. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m passing on the hypnosis.” Colton was used to Crockett’s subtle Texan drawl, but the hooting ladies in the audience seemed to enjoy his southern charm.
“You’ll be fine.” Colton slapped Crockett on his back.
“Then, you do it.”
“I said you’ll be fine. I’m staying cl
ear of Jerry.”
“Remind me how I got myself into this one, Colt.”
“You lost a bet.” Pausing for emphasis, Colton looked out at the audience. “What do you think? Should Crockett get hypnotized?” More hoots and hollers were heard over the audience’s exuberant applause. “They love you, buddy.” Colton grinned. “Between you and me, hypnosis probably won’t work on you. Your head’s full of rocks.”
Crockett smiled at the audience. “He’s right about that.”
The two men had left nothing to chance. Their playful, spontaneous banter had been planned. Months ago, Colton had suggested Crocket participate. To his surprise, Crockett had agreed. The laughter turned into applause as entertainer and hypnotist Jerry Gardner trotted onstage. Colton shook Jerry’s hand, patted Crockett on the back, and walked offstage as the spotlights brightened and the house lights dimmed.
“What a good looking and elite D.C. crowd,” Jerry said. “Thank you for spending your evening at this worthwhile benefit. I promise you’ll be entertained. Right, Crockett?”
“Sure, easy for you to say.” Crockett shook Jerry’s hand, then a hotel employee helped Crockett mic up.
As Colton weaved through the maze of tables, he slowed to shake several outstretched hands.
“Before we begin, let me explain hypnosis,” Jerry said. “It’s a state of deep relaxation, not sleep.” He looked at Crockett. “You’ll be able to hear me and you won’t say or do anything against your wishes.”
“Whew, that’s a relief,” Crockett said.
Colton eased into his chair next to Brigit. “Great speech,” she whispered and caressed his back.
Staring into her eyes helped ease his tension. “Glad you liked it.”
Did she know her tender touch could lift his dark mood? Maybe she knew him better than he realized. And could she perceive how dangerous Montgomery really was? As they shifted their attentions back to the stage, he wondered if he should tell her. Don’t burden her.
If ever Colton needed to maintain control, it was tonight. Everything about MobiCom’s intention had become crystal clear. Wilson Montgomery was determined to win and he now knew why.
“Not everyone is capable of being hypnotized, but I’m good. I’m really good.” Jerry stepped offstage and meandered about the room.
Under hypnosis, a woman was instructed to cluck like a chicken whenever Jerry said the word kiss. A male guest admitted to being a closet smoker and was hypnotized to meow whenever he felt the urge to smoke. Both agreed to wear a mic. Jerry then asked for female volunteers willing to be hypnotized with Crockett on stage. There was no shortage of excited participants.
“I’m liking this more and more,” Crockett said from his seat on stage and the audience cracked up.
Brigit chortled. “Your friend is causing quite a ruckus,” she whispered to Colton.
In the darkened room, he laid a possessive hand on her thigh. Had to touch her. She turned, slowly, to look at him. Her intensity struck him like a lightning bolt, the undeniable electricity whirring between them. He needed to kiss her. Hell, lose himself in her, so her sweet soul could assuage his tormented one.
She furrowed her brow. “You okay?”
“All good.” Beneath the table, he clenched his free fist. One slug to Wilson’s jaw would flatten that motherfucking son of a bitch.
As Jerry escorted four women on stage, he flashed Crockett two thumbs up and the audience laughed. The women sat in chairs next to Crockett and were also wired with portable microphones.
“Please get as comfortable as you can, knowing you’re about to be hypnotized in front of a packed room of Washingtonians,” Jerry said. “That makes me nervous. Ladies, please tell us who you are. Since we’re in the political epicenter of the world, first names only.” After introductions, Jerry began. “Close your eyes and fill your lungs with a slow, deep breath.” He walked them through a visualization of being relaxed, breathing deeply and falling into a restful state.
Colton couldn’t pay attention. Too much was at stake. “I have to make a phone call. Be right back,” he whispered in Brigit’s ear, then headed toward the back of the room.
Two at a time up the stairs, he paused on the landing that overlooked the expansive ballroom. It was chock-full. He hoped his speech, along with the entertainment, garnered a sizable donation for the charity. Feeling like he’d done something that mattered, Colton double-stepped to the mezzanine and pushed open the fire door. After confirming the quiet hallway was deserted, he dialed. Muffled laughter floated through the closed ballroom doors.
“How’s the benefit going?” Marjorie asked. “Did you take my advice and bring your crack wealth manager?”
“Brigit is with me. Montgomery showed up and threatened me.”
“He’s a pit bull.” Marjorie inhaled and started hacking.
Colton waited until she stopped. “I can’t get into it over the phone, but he’s unpredictable and dangerous as hell.”
“Hostile takeover?”
“At the very least.”
“Then it’ll come down to a proxy fight and we’ll need sixty percent of the shares to vote it down.”
“I’ll never let that son of a bitch win. Never. And I’ll do whatever necessary to ensure Crockett Boxes don’t get into his hands.”
The call ended and he stood in the deserted hallway. The hatred that coursed through his veins used to leave him feeling out of control. But now he was a master at containing his emotion until he could release it in a more constructive way. Slipping his free hand into his pocket, he walked back into the ballroom.
The professional fight of his life had officially begun. Bring it on, old man. Bring it on.
35
Bang!
Brigit flew into the ballroom through a side door as Colton returned to his seat. She finger-fluffed her hair and applied lip gloss, making it look like she’d gone to the restroom. Though wrong to eavesdrop on Colton, she had to know. But she couldn’t get close enough to hear him without risking his seeing her.
The bars were closed and the booze cleared away. Damn, I need a drink. Montgomery’s blatant threat had sent shock waves through her. She’d foolishly believed MobiCom would quietly slink away. Whatever Crockett had created must be so revolutionary that Montgomery would stop at nothing to take it.
As Brigit sat down, Colton tenderly cupped the back of her neck with his warm hand, gently squeezed, then removed his hand. This enemy was looking better and better. Colton would have to fight hard to keep Francesco from being absorbed into MobiCom. And she would have to help him. She tasted the bitter frustration.
The show ended and the audience applauded as the women filed offstage. Crockett, sporting a grin, took a bow, shook Jerry’s hand, and headed back to his seat. Jerry released the clucking woman and the meowing man, thanked the crowd for their generous donations and wished everyone a safe ride home.
With the benefit over, the weighty responsibility lifted from Colton’s shoulders. He thanked the guests at his table and pushed out of his chair. Mingling guests swarmed, heaping praise for his outstanding efforts. His viselike grip around Brigit’s waist ensured she didn’t scurry to her room or hide in the shadows as they baby-stepped toward the exit. If measuring smiles, laughter and applause was any indication, the evening had been a rousing success. But the final determination would be the bottom line. Donations were what counted and Colton had high expectations.
The image of Brigit’s body draped over his spurred him through the wall-to-wall crowd of well-wishers toward the door. Sure he’d reserved Brigit her own suite, but she damn well wasn’t going to need it. Not if he had an ounce of control over the outcome.
An hour later, they’d made it as far as the exit doors.
No sooner had they stepped into the packed hallway than they were bombarded by another group of energized guests. Every few minutes, Brigit craned her neck as if searching the crowd. Both he and Tucker agreed she knew who’d vandalized her home. Someone from her mysterio
us past wanted her dead in the worst way. Colton would do his best to protect her, but he was at a clear disadvantage if she wouldn’t confide in him. When he pulled her closer, she caressed his back. Even her simple touch sent blood pounding through his veins.
POP! A deafening sound, like a firecracker exploding in a tiny space, thundered through the hallway.
Fuck—a gunshot!
Brigit screamed, as did several others in the vicinity. On impulse, he pulled her back into the ballroom, forced her to the floor and covered her body with his.
“He’s going to kill me!” Brigit trembled beneath him.
My God, she’s terrified. Was that bullet meant for Brigit?
“The gun! Grab it!” screamed a woman on the other side of the open door.
“Help me hold him!” called out a man.
“Get hotel security!” shouted another man.
When Colton heard hotel security barking orders, he helped Brigit stand. The handful of guests milling in the ballroom, along with hotel staff busing tables, looked horrified.
“Are you okay?” He scanned her face and body. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m…yes, I’m okay. Are you?”
“Stay here.”
“No,” she said as he bolted through the ballroom door.
Three men in tuxes held a man facedown on the ground. His hands were pinned behind him. A security officer cuffed him while a second pointed his weapon at the suspect. Two additional guards were cordoning the shaken guests. The man on the ground was not Wilson Montgomery.
Colton breathed and his heart rate slowed back down. “What’s going on?”
“Sir, you’ll have to step back,” said a hotel guard.
“That’s the asshole who ruined my life!” The man strained to see Colton.
Colton knelt next to him. Hell, it’s Cranston.
Years ago, Lance Cranston had been a loose cannon. It would appear nothing had changed for the former CEO and self-made millionaire. His self-destructive behavior had almost collapsed his organization, until Colton had purchased the company and turned things around.
THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series Page 21