Page 60 of Escorting the CEO
And next to me, Rory sat with her hands folded, looking out the window at the mountains, and said almost nothing for the rest of the hour.
When Genevieve finally closed her binders and departed in a cloud of perfumed enthusiasm, the room went quiet. The afternoon light had shifted. Philips had left a tea service on the sideboard, untouched.
“You wanted to write your own vows,” I said.
Rory shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does.”
She turned from the window and looked at me. “It was a stupid impulse. You were right. Traditional makes more sense. It’s so much easier.”
“Easier isn’t always better,” I chided.
“Yes, it is.” She looked like she might cry, which made no sense.
“Rory—”
“Should we go over the seating chart?” She reached for one of the papers Genevieve had left behind, and the matter, whatever it had been, was closed.
There was a knock on the door. “Mr. Barrington?” Philips stuck his head into the room. “Your assistant’s trying to get in touch with you. Something about reports coming in that you’ve been waiting for.”
“Thanks, Philips.” I turned to Rory. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Go read your reports. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She squeezed my hand, grabbed some binders, and fled.
A funny feeling settled over me. Had I just hurt her feelings?
This is why we don’t do feelings, Rhodes.
But it was too late. There were Feelings all around, and they might just be the death of me.
Rory lookedlovely in a simple navy gown that evening, but she still seemed distracted. I couldn’t get a moment alone with her. Board members surrounded us. There was no way I could excuse myself—I needed to be present and stay focused. She was by my side all evening, so close but yet so far.
We had drinks, then dinner, then after-dinner drinks. The entire board seemed a bit tipsy.
“You make a beautiful couple,” Abigail Furst gushed, sloshing her glass of wine. “You’re going to have gorgeous children.”
“Thank you,” I said, oddly touched.
But when I glanced down at Rory, she had tears in her eyes.
“Did I make you upset, honey?” Abigail asked, horrified.
“Not at all.” Embarrassed, Rory dabbed her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “It’s just that… It would be such a blessing, wouldn’t it? I guess I’m overwhelmed at the idea.”
“Aw,” Abigail said, nudging her. “It’s okay. I have four children, all of them in college or grown now, and you’re right—they’re a blessing.”
“What are your kids’ names?” Rory asked.
As they started talking names and colleges, my attention drifted toward Miranda. She, Cousin Andrew, Terry Hazleton, and Rahim Aziz were in a remote corner of the room, locked in what looked like a heated discussion.
“Excuse me for a moment?” I strode over to Miranda’s mini-meeting, grabbing a drink on my way.
“Good evening.” I squeezed in, uninvited, next to Terry. “Why so tense? Does anyone need a drink?”
“I do,” Cousin Andrew said immediately, and I ignored him.
