Page 20 of One Bad Knight

Jimi went on, “I know we’ve been taking things casually, but I think it’s time we take the next step.”

I stopped a server passing by, exchanging my champagne for a fresh, cold one. I gulped some down to stall, but Jimi patiently waited for me to respond.

“What’s the next step?” I finally asked.

“You, me, going official? The tabloids would go nuts, able to graduate from the supposed rumors that we are together to celebrating our union.”

“You make it sound like a marriage proposal,” I said with a wry laugh.

The smile on his face froze.

Oh. Oh god.

Jimi went on. “Voters will be at the polls soon, and we know how much this would help your uncle.”

Going to Harvard Law was one thing, but marry Jimi? We’d done some necking in closets at these boring events, but nothing beyond that. I didn’t think of him when I woke up, or when I went to bed. No, a pair of intense gray eyes dominated those moments. Longer than I cared to admit.

A movement caught my eye, and I turned to see my uncle raise a glass in my direction as others chatted around him. He’d given Jimi his blessing.

Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he?

“Jimi,” I started. “You are a great guy, but I’m not in love with you.”

Unfazed, he shrugged. “We’ve got chemistry, the rest will come with time.”

The champagne in my stomach turned sour and my skin flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry Jimi, I… I can’t.” The wretched feeling hit me full force. I loved my family, they were all I had, but I couldn’t do this.

“Kitty Kat,” Jimi crooned.

“Don’t call me that,” I said firmly. I never told him I hated his little nickname. I didn’t want to be rude. But right now, I was possessed by a different woman altogether. With Gatsby near, I didn’t know what I would do. It both scared and excited me.

Jimi’s face darkened. “Is this because of that guy?” He gestured in Gatsby’s direction. I turned to see Alan and Ross standing by him as if to prevent him from approaching. He watched me intently, and I had to turn away.

“Not at all, it’s just been a lot lately. I’m not ready for anything right now. Not even something casual.”

I must have been convincing, because Jimi’s stance relaxed. “Of course, I know how hard this week must be for you. The anniversary of—”

“Thanks for understanding,” I cut him off before rushing off to greet one of my uncle’s supporters as if she were a long-lost aunt.

The evening went on like that. Me flitting from person to person, talking about absolutely nothing. About my future in law, and the close run my uncle was having with his competitor. It was a close race, but they had every confidence in John Hart, who ‘always brought heart to the situation.’My smile was bright, and I said all the right things, but I felt my soul being chipped away into dust.

Meanwhile, Gatsby continued to stalk the perimeter of the party. I could feel him tracking my every move. I pretended to listen to Judge Johnson’s story about his infamous case with the priest and the rabbi. It was maybe the tenth time I’d heard it.

“Did you see that guy over there? I think he’s a party crasher,” a woman said, off to the side.

A group of politicians’ wives who were pounding their usual vodka martinis had noticed Gatsby.

The bleached-blonde woman went on. “How did he even get in here, looking like that?”

Another one of the blonde wives overtly licked her lips. “I’d let him in anywhere he wanted.”

My eyebrows scrunched at her remark, and the judge took it to be increased interest in his story so he puffed out his chest. But I was keyed in on the martini-guzzling women currently licking their chops at Gatsby. I glanced in his direction to find him lurking at the edge of the garden, like he was hired muscle for the party. If he wanted to blend in, he should at least have a drink in hand.

A dark-haired wife elbowed her. “Jacinda, you must be joking.”

Jacinda shook her head, directing a powerful beam of bedroom eyes in Gatsby’s direction. “Oh no, I’m not. When I say anywhere, I meananywhere.” She gave a throaty laugh.

Gatsby must have felt their probing eyes because he met her gaze over the rim of her glass. Instead of returning her bedroom eyes, his look was meant to cut her down to the knees. But Jacinda was too many martinis in to receive the wordless message.