Page 88 of The Havenport Collection

Declan

T he Grand Bostonian Hotel was the nicest place I had ever seen.

The grand ballroom looked like it had been flown in from Versailles.

Opulent draperies and ornate woodwork crowded every space.

The walls were painted robin’s egg blue to set off the arches and swirls in the wood.

The ceilings had to be twenty feet high, and large crystal chandeliers hung at regular intervals throughout the vast room.

Our hotel room escapades had managed to help Astrid relax a bit, but now I was the nervous one. Could I do this? Blend in with this world?

Callum had worked his magic and gotten me the perfect tuxedo.

I could have rented, but he insisted that if I was getting serious with Astrid that it was a wise purchase.

It felt silly, decadent even, to buy a tuxedo.

I was not that kind of guy, but it felt like an investment in my future and an investment in our relationship. And I was more than willing to make it.

I had my beard trimmed yesterday and was raring to go.

My dad had even dropped off my grandfather’s cufflinks for luck.

As much as we were butting heads right now, I loved the gesture.

Not that I would ever admit it. We basically exchanged grunts on the front porch, but it felt good to know my parents had my back with Astrid.

I was not prepared for the goddess who had returned to my house this afternoon.

Astrid got out of the car in the same sweats she left in, but she was transformed.

Her hair was shorter and choppier, showing off some of her gorgeous neck, and it was sexy as hell.

Her eyes were all smoky and mysterious and her lips ruby red.

Now, everywhere I looked I saw middle-aged people in tuxedos and evening gowns sipping champagne. Uniformed waiters circulated with fancy silver trays of fussy-looking finger foods. A string quartet played softly but beautifully in the background.

It was glittery and fancy and so not my scene. My social anxiety was not great on a good day, but in a fancy ballroom filled with lawyers? It was at an all-time high.

On the bright side, all I had to do was take one look at my girl, and I knew I belonged.

Astrid was beautiful, there was no denying that.

But tonight she was so much more. She looked strong and powerful and regal.

Her skin glowed and her muscles flexed, and I could tell she was ready for this.

She looked like a warrior princess. And she was mine. At least for tonight.

I was proud of how far she had come. The first night she asked me to be her fake date, she seemed terrified of this event. Now, looking at her, I knew she was ready to crush this.

We turned some heads as we entered. It didn’t help that Astrid was wearing a bright purple gown and my hair was longer than hers. I knew we were a striking couple, but in this crowd we really stood out.

We found our table number and headed over to one of the Burns & Glenn tables.

“Astrid,” shrieked a mousy woman with a severe bob haircut. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Astrid glared at the woman and stood up a little straighter. “I wouldn’t miss it, Charlotte. I am being honored with an award for my pro bono work on behalf of those less fortunate. Remind me why you are here since you weren’t involved?” Her voice was cutting and I smirked. My girl was a savage.

This Charlotte person narrowed her eyes. “It’s a big night for the firm, and as one of the most trusted senior associates, I was asked to represent us here tonight.” The woman looked smugly at Astrid, and I felt her beady eyes travel up my entire body.

She grabbed the elbow of a balding man who had his face in his phone. “Have you met my husband, Dr. Keith Meyer? He is a gastroenterologist at Mass General.”

Astrid shook his hand. “This is my boyfriend, Declan Quinn.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and squeezed tighter. I gave them both a firm handshake. Charlotte’s eyes widened just a bit when I shook her hand. Good to know her poker face wasn’t that good.

The two of them stood for a moment, glaring at each other. Reminded me a lot of whenever I had the great misfortune to be in the same room as Marcus Flint.

Since neither of them was willing to break this awkward staredown, I decided to step in. “Astrid, darling, can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll head over with you, sweetie.” She reached up and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Excuse us,” she said to Charlotte and her husband.

As soon as we were out of earshot she leaned in. “I hate that woman.”

“She is vile,” I agreed.

She punched my shoulder. “Thank you! She is my nemesis. She is always trying to undermine me to get ahead.”

I laughed. “Then she is a demon hell spawn. We should fix her up with Marcus Flint when her doctor hubby dumps her.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow at me. “I wouldn’t even wish her on Marcus.”

“Oh, please. I wish antibiotic-resistant chlamydia on him almost daily.”

We giggled as we headed to one of several bars throughout the massive space.

Lawyers sure did love their booze. Having multiple bars served dual purposes—it made it faster to get a drink and also helped people spread out within the massive space.

I tried to take inventory of the event and the venue.

I knew Cece and Liam would have questions.

They were all about wedding planning right now.

Cocktails in hand, we found a spot and surveyed the room.

“See that group over there?” Astrid gestured to a raucous table of younger-looking folks. They seemed to be having a blast, but on the whole looked a bit shabbier and unkempt compared to the rest of the crowd.

“Those are the public defenders. They usually get pretty rowdy.”

“And those tables up front,”—she gestured to where we had come from—“those are the BigLaw tables. All the largest law firms jockey for the first row of tables to show off their wealth and influence. Everyone will be wearing a Rolex and talking about their boats and planes. Most will be with their second or third wives, so watch out for flying hair extensions.”

“What about the senior citizens back there?” I nodded toward the far side of the room.

“Oh, those are the federal judges. Mostly old white guys still on their first wives. That table next to them are the state court judges. They will never mix or mingle. Federal outranks state, and judges are generally obsessed with rank.”

I nodded, sipping my drink and taking in the scene. It was like a middle school cafeteria but with lots of money and influence.

“Oh shit,” Astrid said, choking on her champagne.

I patted her back. “What?”

“Shit. It’s my mother.”

I scanned the room, which was useless as I had never seen the woman in my life.

“Oh no, she’s spotted us. Stand up straight and look her in the eye. She can smell weakness.”

"Astrid, I did not expect to see you here.” Justice Wentworth was a tall, imposing woman in her sixties wearing a black gown and some serious jewels. Her hair was cut short, and she wore minimal makeup. Still, I could see the mother-daughter resemblance, as she was quite striking.

“Mother, I’m being given an award. Of course I had to show up. It’s for such a good cause.” Astrid’s voice had changed. It was pinched and forced and high, totally unlike her normal speaking voice. Like she was trying to modulate every syllable to maintain control.

“And who is this?” she asked, unsubtly giving me a disappointed once-over.

“This is my boyfriend, Mother, Declan Quinn.”

I offered my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Justice Wentworth.”

She shook it, returning my intensity. I was no stranger to hard-ass moms. My mom could hold her own with the best. But the justice was in a league of her own.

“I’m glad you decided to show. Best to keep calm and carry on in these situations.”

Astrid stood next to me silently.

“I need to mingle. But it’s good to see you looking so…”—she looked over Astrid, taking in her gown, her height, and her physique—“so healthy and rested.”

It seemed like a compliment, but the way it was delivered made it sound like an insult. Astrid remained perfectly still, standing straight up at her full height, and gave her mother a frozen smile. “Great to see you, Mother.”

She walked away briskly. Like Astrid, the justice moved with purpose and precision. It was maybe a minute-long interaction, but I could feel the tension radiating through Astrid’s body. “Do you need me to take you back upstairs, killer?” I whispered in her ear.

She smiled at me and threw me a saucy wink. “Maybe.”

We perused the silent auction items and sipped our drinks.

Aside from the monkey suit, which I will admit looked pretty good, I was having a good time.

Astrid couldn’t keep her hands off me and needed me by her side constantly, which I didn’t mind at all.

I felt like we were in the giant ocean tank at the aquarium, and we were just sweet little fish being circled by dozens of species of sharks.

The MC announced it was time for dinner. We took our seats at one of the Burns & Glenn tables.

I pulled out Astrid’s chair, and suddenly I heard a sharp, nasally voice behind me.

“What are you doing here?”

I turned around and came face to face with an older, wiry man. Astrid stood up and crossed her arms.

“Max.”

His frown turned into a smile so quickly most would have missed it. So this was the fucker who screwed over Astrid. What a joke.

His wife caught up to him and grabbed his arm. “Max, sweetie, is this our table?” she asked kindly. She seemed pleasant enough and gave us all a warm smile.

Astrid looked like she wanted to kick his ass. I would have offered to help but I knew my girl didn’t need it. In fact, I could have offered to hold the phone so we could take a video and post it on YouTube, as a cautionary tale for perverts who try to coerce young women into sleeping with them.