“You look good yourself.” I smiled and leaned across the car and kissed him.
He caught me before I could move back to my side and kissed my lips for a long moment.
I sat back, flushed a little, and smiled like a moron.
He hadn’t been kidding that night, when he said he wanted to take me some more. It wasn’t until after midnight when we finally started talking about what to do, and even then, he wanted more—one final taste before bed. I felt sore and happy for the week after.
Part of me thought he was joking when he invited me to a charity gala. The idea of Piers going to any sort of event seemed too hilarious to picture, especially not one that required fancy outfits and plenty of mingling with donors and the like—and yet he really did show up, and he really was dressed in a black, perfectly tailored suit, and he really did look fantastic.
“Phase one of the plan,” he said, pulling the car into traffic. “Now, remember, you’re not here as my date.”
“What is the story, anyway?”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he sped toward a banquet hall out in west Philadelphia, near the University of Pennsylvania. “I’m bringing you to network. Which means you have to network.”
“You could always tell people I’m your assistant.”
He snorted. “Nobody would believe it.”
“And would they believe that you’re going to an event like this to begin with?”
“Fair point.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll make the rounds and see if there’s anyone you should suck up to.”
His jaw flexed. He wasn’t happy about this, that much was obvious, but that night we’d talked about the plan, which boiled down to this: Piers was going to do his best to play the game, make nice, and hope that Caroline and Gina changed their minds about him.
It was spotty at best, but this hospital gala was the first step. He’d been invited, like every prominent doctor was invited, and normally he would’ve ignored the whole thing—but I talked him into showing up.
Of course, I hadn’t expected him to really follow through, but it was a pleasant surprise.
He parked in a garage reserved for the event and we crossed the street to a relatively large and upscale hotel. It had a classic facade with lots of extensive brickwork and columns, while the interior was on the modern side, with lots of marble floors and simple but chic decorations. The main ballroom was over near the bar, and men and women in expensive clothes lounged around, drinking and talking.
I stuck close to him, but not too close. I wanted to hold his hand, or show any sign of affection, but I knew we couldn’t, especially not here of all places. “Recognize anyone?” I asked.
“That old guy at the bar,” he said, indicating a frog-like gentleman with bright white hair and a scowl. “He’s a donor. Don’t know his name.”
“Go say hello.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Piers. It’s the reason you’re here. Will he know you?”
“Probably.”
“Then go.”
He gave me a pained look. “I’m getting a drink if I have to go over there.”
“Go ahead, just don’t overdo it.”
He grunted in response and stalked off. I watched him go with a smile, feeling like I just released a captive condor back into the wild. He leaned up against the bar next to the frog-like man and struck up a conversation, and though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, he frog man looked surprised, but delighted.
I headed into the ballroom. It was packed with people, most of them older, though I recognized some from the hospital. I wasn’t sure what the charity was for, some sort of cancer, I couldn’t tell from the signage, and it didn’t really matter. These things weren’t about the cause, though of course the money was always appreciated.
No, events like this were about the hospital admins pimping themselves out to the wealthiest people in the city in the hopes that they’d get a few thousand more dollars out of them. I drifted over toward an open bar at the far side of the room and got a gin and tonic. I sipped it, and marveled at the empty dance floor, the empty stage, the long red drapes hanging over the walls. Nobody seemed interested in anything but socializing, and that was fine with me.
Piers entered the room a few minutes later. I thought about going up to him, but a group of older men and women beat me to it. He smiled at them, gestured with his drink, and said something that made them all laugh. I watched, a strange sense of pride spreading through me.
He was trying. He hated this, but he was trying. We both agreed this sort of thing was going to be necessary—he had to go above and beyond simply being nicer at work at this point. He was too far down the rabbit hole, and only drastic measures might help.
Besides, these people in this room, they could be useful. The Tippett family likely had some representative somewhere, but beyond them, there were other powerful people that could help. I wasn’t sure if he would actually form any alliances, but it was a start.
“Dr. Court?”
I looked to my right, surprised to hear my name. Gina stood nearby, wearing a simple black dress, diamond studs in her ears. She looked ten years younger outside of the hospital.
“Hello, Gina,” I said.
She smiled a little, uncertain and confused as she joined me. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Which meant she thought I didn’t belong.
“Piers brought me,” I said.
Her eyes went wide. “He’s here?” Then she laughed. “Or did he force you to come in his stead?”
“He’s here,” I said, gesturing toward him. “Seems to be enjoying himself.”
Gina stood in stunned silence and watched as Piers told another joke, and got another warm laugh from his growing crowd of admirers.
“What the hell?” Gina asked softly, shaking her head. “He never comes to this stuff. I asked
