Page 40 of Flirting with the Scrooge

I bark out a laugh. “Like how annoyingly charming? Annoyingly good looking? Annoyingly funny?”

“No. Just annoying.” Her hand grips mine as she tugs me along to welcome the new guests.

Over the next hour, Tatum introduces me to practically everyone in the room. Lawyers. Bankers. Doctors. Business owners. When I’m asked what I do, the only answer I give them is “I’m Tatum’s date.” No one asks any more questions. They only politely nod and move on to the next person for conversation. For a moment, I forget who I am and pretend I’m an ordinary guy who’s spending an evening escorting a beautiful girl to a party.

We weave in and out of tables as we make our way toward the bar. My palm softly runs along Tatum’s lower back when she suddenly stops dead in her tracks.

“What’s wrong?” I glance down as all the color drains from her face. Then I follow her gaze that’s trained straight ahead and land on a guy in a navy suit with a brunette on his arm.

“Adam’s here,” she whispers.

This time I get a clearer view of her ex. He’s clean shaven and clean cut. While he wears a smile on his face, it’s more forced than anything. One he’s perfected over the years. His movements seem very choreographed and stiff, like he wouldn’t know a good time if it smacked him upside the face. For the short while I’ve known Tatum, she seems fun and free-spirited. The complete opposite of this guy. What could she possibly see in him?

“He’s coming this way,” she mutters. Her spine goes rigid as she squares her shoulders, making herself appear taller. She runs a hand down her dress to brush away any imaginary wrinkles and I wonder who the hell this woman is.

“Hi, Adam. I’m so glad you could make it.” Tatum’s voice is bright, bubbly, and an octave higher than normal. “Lindsey. I’m glad you could make it as well.” She gives her a curt nod.

Adam wraps an arm around Lindsey’s waist and pulls her flush against his body. My gaze is glued on Tatum as I watch her watch Adam and her mouth curls downward a fraction from his show of affection. Well, fuck. If my job is to make him jealous. Time to up the ante.

I run a fingertip over Tatum’s soft cheekbone. When she glances my way, I cup her cheek and press my lips to hers. She squeaks out a surprise but doesn’t stop me. In fact, a low moan rumbles in the back of her throat as she kisses me back. I break the kiss and slowly pull back and brush my nose against hers. She purses her lips to kiss me again, but I keep my mouth millimeters from hers. Her eyes flutter open, lips still parted. Desire swirls in her irises, and I know it’s not because of Adam.

“I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?”

Her mouth closes and then opens, but she doesn’t say anything and instead she nods. I drop my hand from her cheek. Twisting around, I hold it out to Adam. “Hi, I’m Connor. Tatum’s date.”

Adam’s gaze, which flits from Tatum to me to Tatum and back to me, doesn’t go unnoticed. Unsure of who I am and what I’m doing here, he hesitates before gripping my hand in his. “Adam.” He nods to the woman next to him. “This is Lindsey.” I squeeze his hand a little harder than normal, but I hold his gaze with a hard stare. I’ve met plenty of guys like him, ones who prance around like their shit doesn’t stink. Hate to break it to him, but I see right through him and his shit stinks the worst.

Halfway to the bar, I spare a glance back and Tatum’s posture is back to being prim and proper. I shake my head. I’ve seen the real her and this isn’t it. When I return, Tatum is laughing at something Adam said, but it’s not her normal sweet, bubbly laugh. It’s stifled, like she’s holding back. I’ve made her laugh, a real, genuine laugh where she’s almost in tears from laughing so hard. This is not that. I pass Tatum her glass of wine. “What’s so funny?”

“Adam was just telling us about how one of his clients filled in the wrong box on some paperwork.” She releases another insincere laugh.

“You had to be there.” Adam waves it off.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I roll my eyes.

A middle-aged couple joins us in our small circle. He has salt and pepper hair while the woman has had far too many Botox injections to make her appear younger, but instead it makes her look plastic.

“Adam. It’s so good to see you. I’ve been hearing a lot of good things about the practice,” the older man says.

“Thank you, sir. It’s just all in a day’s work,” Adam replies.

“Tatum, I can’t believe you let this one get away,” the older man says.

Tatum doesn’t say anything, just gives him a tight-lipped smile. But I can see all the brightness inside her dim. Fuck. I’ve never seen her so defeated.

I hold out my hand to the older man. “Hi, I’m Connor.”

“Senator John Ellis. I’m Tatum’s father. This is my wife, Tamara.” He gestures to the woman next to him.

“Nice to meet you both,” I say.

Tamara’s gaze wanders up and down my body like I’m a tasty treat for her to devour. It’s a little unsettling.

The senator clears his throat. “So, what do you do, Connor?”

“Tonight, my only job is to be Tatum’s date.” I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her to me. Her warm body flush against mine feels like home.

Tamara reaches up and runs a painted fingernail over Tatum’s hair above her ear. “Oh honey, you should have worn your hair down tonight. This neckline is too harsh for your oval face,” she whispers, but not quiet enough for me not to hear.

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