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I make a note of each face, each connection, building a mental map of the Kavanagh’s criminal network while being the best fake-date any man could ask for.

"Care for a dance?" Richardson appears at my side. Cillian left me alone to go speak with the mayor across the room.

"Mr. Richardson?—"

"James, please," he interrupts. "One dance while Cillian is occupied."

I weigh options fast. I don’t want to offend the man. "Of course."

On the dance floor, Richardson holds me closer than he should. "How long have you worked for Cillian?"

"Six weeks," I answer.

"Interesting timing," he muses. "Right after the Donovan situation."

That gets my attention. Donovan—a name from my father's notes and one I have heard around the office.

"I'm not familiar with any situation," I say.

Richardson smiles. "No reason you would be. It is ancient history now." His hand slides lower on my back. "What did you do before joining Kavanagh Import & Export?"

"Administrative work for?—"

"Mind if I cut in?" Cillian appears to save me from having my ass groped, his tone pleasant but his eyes stone cold.

Richardson steps back with a smug smile. "Your assistant was just telling me about her last job."

"Another time," Cillian says, taking my hand. "The hospital director wants to introduce us to some of the other donors."

He guides me away, his palm warm against my back. Once we're across the dance floor, he turns to me.

"Richardson has a reputation," he says.

"For being hands?" I reply, keeping my voice low.

Cillian's jaw tightens. "Dance with me."

He pulls me into his arms as the orchestra begins a waltz. Unlike Richardson, his lead is natural, confident without unwanted advances.

"You can dance," I say.

"Not by choice. My mother insisted. She called it a life lesson, our school mates called it gay."

We float across the floor, his hand resting properly at my waist, mine on his shoulder. The dance feels intimate.

"Tell me about the Donovan situation," I say.

His steps pause briefly. "Richardson mentioned that?"

"He said it happened when I joined the company."

Cillian watches my face. "A former business associate who made some unfortunate choices. Nothing you need be concerned about."

He’s evasive about it. "I should know about things that may crop up in the office."

His mouth curves. "You're persistent."

"It's why you hired me."