Page 21 of Sugar (Gilded #1)

Greedy

MADDIE

E aston let himself out, but when I reached for my handle, it disappeared as the door was pulled open. I didn’t get the chance to climb out before my not-date offered me his hand. Once I was standing, he used his hold to tuck my arm into the crook of his and started for the entrance.

The gray building didn’t look any different than the surrounding skyscrapers. It did, however, look surprisingly barren for what I assumed would be a busy fundraiser if Easton was attending.

The cacophony of music and conversation grew louder as we approached the glass doors. It spilled out when one opened.

Wow.

The outside might not have been much to look at, but the inside was the most breathtaking room I’d ever been in. The cavernous space was filled with round tables and chairs, almost all of which seemed occupied.

His thirty-minute delay must’ve made us late.

Large columns and arches reached nearly to the top of the decorative ceilings and exposed a mezzanine where more guests mingled, though I wasn’t sure if they were attendees or bystanders. Glitzy chandeliers hung from the ceiling to add soft light and charm.

I was vaguely aware of a woman speaking at a podium positioned at the front of the room, though I wasn’t paying attention to what she said until a burst of applause startled me from my awe.

“Shit.” Easton unlinked our arms. “I’ll be right back.”

“Uh, okay,” I muttered as he walked away.

And headed straight to the front where he accepted an outstretched award from the woman. She stepped aside to give him the microphone, and he tried to wave her off, but she was relentless.

A woman after my own heart.

With an acquiescent nod, he moved to the podium.

“Thank you for this very kind, yet very unnecessary honor. I’m one small cog in a much larger mechanism and am only able to do what I do thanks to people like Vanessa and her team.

The ones who work tirelessly for the greater good.

And thanks to fundraisers like tonight and people like yourselves who donate to support these worthy efforts.

Please pat yourselves on the back.” He started to walk away before leaning back toward the mic.

“But do it after you’ve written Vanessa a check. ”

The crowd laughed, and he paused to talk to the grinning woman while they both pretended to be unaware of the blinding flashes of cameras capturing the moment. After a long minute, he broke away and left her in the limelight.

“I should’ve known better than to allocate more than a minute for Mr. Wells,” she laughed into the microphone. “That just means we can kick off the rest of the evening.”

Not that he’d even been faking a smile for the crowd, but if he had, it would’ve dropped as he stalked toward me.

He looked like he wanted to toss the etched glass award over his shoulder.

In an effortlessly smooth move, he wrapped an arm around my waist and continued walking without missing a step.

For a brief second, I thought we were headed right back out the door, but he veered further into the room instead.

I tilted my head to smile up at him as I murmured, “So not just a fundraiser.”

“Did I forget to mention I was getting another overpriced paperweight?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I feel like I would’ve remembered that detail.”

“To be fair, I was hoping I timed it right to miss this entire portion of the evening all together.”

“You delayed picking me up just to try to get out of speaking for thirty seconds? Now who’s the flatterer?”

His hand tightened on my hip, and he halted my steps. “Fuck, Maddie, I would’ve much rather picked you up earlier?—”

My smile grew to a reassuring grin, and I automatically put my palm to his chest. “I’m kidding.”

“Fact remains.”

Belatedly realizing how I was touching him, I started to remove my hand, but he covered it with his own.

He held it there as he added, “But I would’ve had Vic drive us around the block a few dozen times.”

I laughed, but it petered out when he released my hip but kept hold of my hand and continued to a large table near the center of the room.

Two women and three men were already sitting there, and he offered a chin lift of greeting.

Otherwise, he ignored them as he pulled a chair out and closer to the empty one at the same time.

I took the offered seat, but he didn’t follow.

There were servers hustling around the room, but none must’ve been close enough for Easton’s liking. “If I have to sit through this, I need a drink. What do you want?”

“A Cosmo.”

He looked at me for a long stretch. “Let me rephrase. What do you actually want?”

“A Cosmo,” I repeated.

That time he didn’t just give me his intimidatingly blank stare down. Putting one hand to the table and one on the back of my chair, he leaned down so his face was in mine. “I’m not asking again, Madeline.”

I swallowed hard before saying, “A Dirty Shirley.”

“What the fuck is a Dirty Shirley?”

“A Shirley Temple with vodka. And an orange slice.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t give me shit about it. Instead, a hint of a smile curved his mouth. “You got it.”

I watched as he started for the bar before stopping suddenly. He returned to me.

At my questioning gaze, he ordered, “Come with me.”

Ohhhhkay.

I took his outstretched hand and carefully stood, offering an awkward smile to the other people at the table. He again kept hold of me as he steered us across the room.

A bombshell of a woman watched Easton’s approach and inched down the bar toward where we were headed. She fluffed her hair, pushed her shoulders back, and perfected a pose that was both open and casual.

Her effort was for nothing because he didn’t so much glance at her. Disappointment marred her face when she finally spotted our clasped hands.

She wasn’t the only one surreptitiously sneaking peeks our way.

Or outright staring.

Easton didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care—that we were clearly the topic of whispered conversation. “You okay?”

No. I feel like a fish in a tank.

I didn’t share that and simply nodded.

“Look at me.” When I did as he ordered, his gaze was intense on me. Far more intense than the moment called for. I didn’t understand why, and he didn’t shed any light on it. “They’ll get distracted by something else shiny soon.”

So he’s aware of the staring, he just doesn’t give a shit.

Must be nice.

“Why is everyone so interested?” I asked.

“LA is big, but circles are small. Most of the people attending a function like this are also invited to similar functions. That means I see the same people often. And I rarely attend with a date.”

“That would do it,” I said. What I actually wanted to do was exclaim that it was insane to me that he was ever without a woman or ten on his arm.

The bartender approached. Unlike at Gilded, he looked at me first, but Easton still ordered—even remembering the small garnish detail. “Bourbon and a Dirty Shirley with an orange slice.”

“Want the cherries, too?” the other man asked as he turned to start making the drinks.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Easton hooked a bent finger under my chin and tilted my head up. He met my questioning gaze with one of his own.

“Cherries?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yes,” he answered for me.

What the hell was that about?

I wanted to ask, but I knew it wasn’t the time or place.

Even though my impulsivity usually would’ve made me blurt the question, any words or thoughts disappeared in a fiery explosion that shorted out my brain when his bent knuckle trailed down to touch the gold at my neck.

Like that wasn’t a surprisingly tender thing to do, he took his attention and his touch away when the bartender returned with our drinks.

After dropping a folded bill into the oversized glass chalice meant for tips, Easton grabbed both drinks. He paused with his elbow out, and it took me a second to realize he wanted me to loop my arm through his again. I did, and we started back to the table.

Since no one was lingering close enough to hear more than a word or two of my uninformed question, I asked, “Why were you honored?”

“I do pro bono work for them,” he said before glancing down to meet my gaze. “It offsets the bilking.”

I’m never gonna live that insinuation down.

A polite apology hovered on the tip of my tongue, but it was unnecessary. “So your soul isn’t totally damned.”

There was a flash of something in his dark eyes that made my stomach flutter in a not entirely unpleasant way. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Thankfully for my weak knees, we were back at the table. My seat was still positioned close to his, but it wasn’t enough. Once we were both sitting, he tugged it closer still so that my side and thigh were nearly touching his.

And then he stretched his arm across the back of the chair.

I was surprised by the possessive position until someone excitedly cried, “There you are.”

Oh.

Duh.

The whole reason I’m here.

His hand reflexively squeezed my bare shoulder, and I sharply inhaled at his touch.

“Fuck,” he drawled quietly.

I looked over to see his gaze was on me and not whomever approached. If he was apprehensive, he didn’t need to be. I understood the assignment and offered him a reassuring smile.

It’s showtime.

The woman didn’t notice she didn’t have his attention because he didn’t have hers.

Not really. She was scanning the room as she rambled.

“Easton Wells, leave it to you to make a fashionably late entrance when you’re the main honoree.

I thought you weren’t going to show. Vanessa would’ve had a conniption.

But all that matters is you’re here. I have someone I want you to meet. ”

“Me, too,” Easton said.

The woman finally dropped her gaze to look at him. At first, she didn’t seem to even notice me sitting beside him until she took in how tightly I was pressed to his side. Her wide eyes moved to his arm around me, and she did a double take.