Beck & Call (22 page)

Damien stood up before she could.

“That was very good,” he said.

Jake pushed up on his arms, his body still connected to Mia’s. The hard man’s gaze was too discerning for comfort.

Damien smoothed his tie. “Entertaining as that was, I wasn’t planning for us to play this morning. I have to visit my hanger in New Jersey. There’s a problem with a jet the engineers want my input on.”

“I’ll take you,” Jake said.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“It’s my job.” He held Mia’s waist as he pulled gently out of her. In seconds, he’d tucked away and zipped up. Despite the reassuring pat he gave her knee, Mia appeared surprised.

Damien was as well. He’d thought the man would want to linger. “I was planning to drive myself.”

Jake rinsed his hands at the sink and dried them on a towel. “Give me seven minutes to finish cleaning up and dress.”

Seven minutes sounded specific. Bemused, Damien watched him stride off.

“Well.” Mia shrugged the sleeves of her robe back on. “I guess that interlude is over.”

Her wry tone didn’t hide the fact that she was ticked.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to insult you. Men sometimes compartmentalize activities.”

Mia rubbed her temple. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“I do apologize. I didn’t know we’d be spontaneous.”

She smiled at him, and suddenly he felt stupid for saying
we.
He’d only been observing.

“I don’t suppose you need a PA today,” she said.

“Regrettably, no. My engineers would find it odd. I do …” He hesitated. “There’s a charity function I need to attend tonight, an auction for funding scholarships in the sciences. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to accompany me.”

“As your PA?”

“As my date. It’s formal. You’ll need to obtain a gown.”

“I could call Hillary, I guess.”

He assumed she meant Hillary Sweet, who was well known among Diogenes members. She’d know exactly what Mia ought to wear. “Use your corporate card. Your wardrobe allowance will cover the expense.”

Mia’s brown eyes blinked and he had no idea why.

“Okay,” she said. “I guess my job today is shopping.”

“Don’t buy jewelry,” he added, which took her noticeably aback.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she assured him.

Jake reappeared in appropriate driver garb. “You ready?”

Damien was almost. He retrieved his tablet from the kitchen counter, turning its touchscreen to face Mia. “Press your palm print on this. I’ll add you to the house system so you can get in and out by yourself.”

Mia did as he asked and grinned. “Now I’ve got the keys to the castle!”

Her pleasure in this pleased him. Most women he knew would have been more excited about the evening gown.

He and Jake walked side by side to the elevator. Damien pressed his thumb to the call button. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Reed.”

“That I am,” Jake agreed—but not as if he really comprehended how fortunate he was.

~

“Don’t even bother,” Hillary said when Mia began flipping through the designer dresses on her boutique’s racks.

“Why not?” she asked. “Aren’t these nice enough?”

“They’re plenty nice, but they’re secondhand. You can’t risk what you’re wearing being recognized as some other guest’s castoff. The women you’ll meet tonight will already have their claws out for you.”

That sounded alarming. “They won’t know who I am.”

“They’ll know Damien Call, or think they do, and that man is quite the catch. His reputation for keeping his arm candy at arm’s length only makes him more attractive. I heard Zoe Raeburn wasn’t spared the jealous snark, and she’s a society princess.”

“So what
can
I wear?”

“What all New Yorkers do when they need to look indomitable.”

“Black,” Mia said.

“Black,” Hillary agreed. She reached for her phone. “Let me call my best cutter. If we keep it simple, I think we can kit you in black velvet.”

“This is good of you,” Mia said gratefully.

“You’re paying me, aren’t you? Besides which, real women need to stick together.”

Mia laughed. “
We’re
the real ones then?”

Her humor seemed to tickle the elegant storekeeper. “You’re all right, kid. I think you’ll land on your feet, no matter what convoluted game those men are playing.”

Her approval gave Mia a warm feeling.

“I really admire you,” she said impulsively. “You seem to have it all together.”

“I don’t know about all of it,” Hillary said. “I’m just a person, same as you.”

“A person with a
plan
, one you’re accomplishing.”

Hillary smiled. “I’ve accomplished a few. So will you. Maybe sooner than you think.”

Mia fought a tiny frown. She couldn’t help hoping the fulfillment of one plan wouldn’t happen immediately.

~

Despite its sporadic tensions, Mia’s day had a number of bright spots. One of them was popping out to show Jake and Damien the result of Hillary’s team’s efforts.

“Tada!” she said as the men entered the living area together. Jake had his jacket slung over one shoulder, but Damien was still buttoned up. Rather than dwell on how happy she was to see them both, she spread her arms and turned. The fitted black velvet column merited displaying in the round. “Look, it has an Angelina Jolie slit.”

She stuck her right leg forward to demonstrate.

“You look beautiful,” Damien said seriously.

Jake covered his mouth to contain a snicker. “You might want to practice your posing if you intend to do that tonight.”

“Do you think I’ll get a chance?” she asked with faux innocence.

“We can only hope,” Jake replied straightfaced.

She broke into laughter, which confused Damien. “I won’t pose,” she promised, in case he thought she would. “I know your date should be dignified.”

“You can be anything you like,” Damien said, but she rather doubted that.

Jake sank into a very modern white chair and sighed.

“I stopped at our places while I was out,” she said. “Picked up some clothes and personal stuff. Curtis relinquished his copy of the key to your apartment.”

She’d given Curtis an update at the same time, since communicating via email or phone seemed tricky. She didn’t know for sure Damien wasn’t tracking their messages. Seeing Curtis had definitely been one of her day’s highlights, his bone-cracking hug reminding her she missed him.

Visiting Jake’s apartment, which she’d never been invited to before, had also been interesting. She hadn’t snooped exactly, but she’d looked around. He favored simple well-made furniture—and not a whole lot of it. She’d confirmed that six identical dark gray suits did indeed hang in his closet. His shirts, briefs, and socks were similarly uniform and high quality. Given his kinks, she hadn’t expected such conservative choices.

The single personal decoration was a beautiful color photograph of street kids playing in a city somewhere in India. It hung on the wall in his living room. She wasn’t sure what the picture meant. Maybe a reminder to protect the innocent.

Jake’s expression said he longed to grill her on what she’d poked her nose into.

“Talking to our former boss must have been fun,” he said carefully.

“I’m afraid he’s still mad at us,” Mia said, trying not to act too hard. “It might be a while before he cools off.”

Jake responded with a strategically vague hum.

Damien appeared not to regard their conversation as suspicious, because he checked his watch. “We should probably get dressed.”

“We?” she asked.

“I’m bodyguarding tonight,” Jake informed her.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable with that arrangement,” Damien said.

Did he think she wouldn’t enjoy herself if it were just the two of them? It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, but suddenly she wasn’t sure it was correct. That was weird, wasn’t it? That she didn’t mind the idea of being alone with him?

She was thinking so busily she couldn’t respond at all.

“I have something for you to wear with the dress,” Damien said. He dug into a bag he’d been carrying, coming out with a jewelry case the size of a hardback book. The case was covered in rich brown leather and embossed with the logo of a prominent diamond store.

Mia stared at it and at him, her hands refusing to reach for it.

A hint of devilry turned up one corner of Damien’s mouth. “This is so you won’t accuse me of treating you like a cheap date.”

She gaped at Jake, who was grinning too. She couldn’t believe he’d shared that story.

“Open it,” he urged. “I helped Damien pick it out.”

She guessed this was a new form of male bonding. She took the box and pried up the hinged lid. The amount of ice that glittered out at her made her blink. After a moment, the dazzling sparkles resolved into a multi-strand platinum necklace.

Whoa,
she thought, completely flabbergasted.
How freaking many carats is this?

More than she could count was her best estimate.

“It’s designed to resemble a rope,” Jake said helpfully. “Depending on your neckline, you can wear the knot and tassels in front or back.”

So it was bondage jewelry. No wonder Jake liked it. She stroked the diamonds in the trailing part tentatively. “I’ll need a bodyguard if I put this on.”

“Do you like it?” Damien asked.

Like
didn’t cover her emotions. This was a necklace literally fit for a queen. The idea of wearing it mortified and appealed simultaneously. Despite Jake’s earlier joke about her posing skills, both men obviously assumed she could carry it off without looking ridiculous.

She found that incredibly flattering.

She had to swallow before she could speak. “I’ve never worn anything this stunning. You must know I can’t keep it.”

Damien’s devilish smile deepened. “If Jake decides to keep his car, I really think you’ll have to.”

Jake’s head jerked to him in surprise. “You
are
devious.”

He sounded admiring. Damien preened slightly.

“I have my moments,” he concurred.

MIA
resolved to enjoy her Cinderella moment. She wasn’t complaining that she had two princes instead of one. The men were sexy in their black tie, and both of them smelled divine—like she was getting a double dose of testosterone. Jake had supplied them with concealed earpieces, which amused Damien.

“I won’t play pretend bodyguard,” Jake said. “If I’m here in that capacity, I’m going to do it right. Just tap the earpiece off if you need privacy.”

“This is a charity dinner,” Damien said as they exited the car in front of the ritzy downtown hotel. “I doubt we’re in danger other than from undercooked chicken.”

“It’s a crush,” Jake countered. He handed the keys to a valet. “And never mind your safety. Mia looks like a million bucks. I want to keep track of her.”

Mia stroked the necklace that was making her nervous.

Damien coaxed her hand down and squeezed it. “You’re fine, Mia. Jake and I will keep an eye on you.”

The placard outside the ballroom said
WELLES FOUNDATION SCHOLARSHIP DINNER
. Inside, the standard sea of white-draped tables channeled the milling crowd into the spaces between them. The attendees were all shapes and ages and dressed to impress. The fundraiser must be a hot ticket for New York’s deep-pocketed intelligentsia. Mia’s fancy gown wasn’t out of place and neither was her necklace.

“If I were a jewel thief,” she mused, “this is the event I’d hit.”

Damien laughed, the soft sound echoing through her earpiece. “Let’s find where they’ve set up the auction. I want to make sure WorldWide’s listing is correct.”

An official looking woman in a long sparkly gown spared them the trouble of searching. “Mr. Call,” she said, lifting her arm as she hurried over. “The young people will be so excited that you’ve arrived.”

“Ah,” Damien said, seeming not to know who she was.

“Greta Harris.” She pointed to her nametag. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Of course. Greta. How nice to meet you in person. This is my friend, Mia Beck. Could you direct us to the venue for the auction?”

“I’ll take you, if you don’t mind. Last year’s scholarship recipients are there. It would mean a great deal for them to speak to you. You’re their hero.”

“I’m sure I’m not all their hero,” Damien said. “But I’d be happy to.”

Damien’s little bow—or perhaps his unexpected humility—brought a flush into Greta’s cheeks.

“This way,” she said, flustered.

Mia bit her lip to hold in her amusement. Damien didn’t have to try much to charm women.

Like a silent protective shadow, Jake followed them to the auction room.

Here there were no tables, just chairs in rows in front of a podium. The crowd around the edges of the room was smaller than in the ballroom. A handful of adults watched over a couple dozen kids of high school age and younger—science prodigies, she assumed. Six girls straggled among the boys, and none looked comfortable in their dress up clothes. One boy wore a faded T-shirt under his too big suit jacket. For no reason she understood, the shirt was captioned
Byte me, Einstein.

“Come on,” Jake said quietly, echoing her thought. “What techno geek doesn’t like Einstein?”

All the kids perked up when they spotted Damien.

Greta herded him along their line like a visiting dignitary, which Mia guessed he was. Damien spoke to each kid politely, but she noticed some interested him more than others. The ones who didn’t gush but jumped straight into arcane technical discussions got his full attention. The boy in the
Byte me
shirt, who struck Mia as surly and bad mannered, got Damien’s business card.

“He’ll probably tear it up,” Damien confided laughingly afterward. “He’s convinced he’s smarter than me and, God knows, he might be.”

Mia liked him more than she could say for not minding.

She felt rather than saw Jake grow more alert behind them.

“Heads up,” he said as she and Damien turned.

She saw at once why he’d warned them. Sam Raeburn, the CEO of Genbolt, was powering toward them like a tugboat. He had the physicality she remembered, as if he needed—and was entitled to—more space than other folks. His tailor was as skilled as ever. His tuxedo slimmed his stocky frame the same way his suits had. Mia had to admit his pale blue eyes and pewter hair gave him a striking appearance.