Dillon
“In two years, I see Lewis Sporting Goods being a viable threat to the major chains not just in Illinois, but all over the mid-west. In fact if you partner with us, I can promise nationwide success in under ten years.”
I knew I should be listening, but Brenton Biles was known for droning on and on, and Jasmine and I had already decided not to partner with him and his company. Still, I couldn’t be rude to the guy, and I really should at least pretend to be paying attention, but my focus was elsewhere.
Across the room, from where Biles and I were drinking scotch and waiting for the dinner hour to begin, I could see Laurel.
Stunning in her floor-length gold gown, the color somehow made her hair and skin look even more golden. The plunging neckline made my mouth water, even as her proper up do allowed my gaze to feast on her neck. I was toast.
Borderline obsessed.
I was here to network. To talk to people like Biles and work on expanding Lewis Sporting Goods until it was, indeed, a household name nationwide.
But all I wanted to do was look at Laurel in that dress. To feel her pressed against me while we danced. To listen to her laugh right next to me, not see her from across the room. I was finding myself to be selfish where Laurel was concerned.
I wanted that light, that goodness, all for myself.
I’d been sharing her all day, and now, I decided, I was done with that.
“Excuse me,” I told Biles, not bothering to wait for his response before leaving him and heading toward Laurel.
She was talking to a pretty brunette woman, both of them chatting excitedly like they were old friends, so intent on their conversation that she didn’t see me coming until I was right upon them.
“Hey,” I said softly, sliding my hand around her back and touching her softly, possessively, as I smiled down at her.
“Hey,” Laurel replied, her eyes twinkling happily as she turned to me.
I was pleased when she tilted her face upward, asking me for a hello kiss without saying a word.
I obliged, briefly brushing her lips softly, and squeezing her lower back with my fingertips.
“This is Drusilla,” Laurel said, turning back to face the woman she’d been talking to.
“Dru,” the brunette amended, holding out her hand.
I shook it firmly and said, “Dillon.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dru replied, before Laurel cut in excitedly.
“Dru runs a catering business with her sisters about an hour outside of Cherry Springs. We were just talking about getting together to talk business, maybe collaboration.”
“That’s great,” I said, smiling at the two women, who were nodding enthusiastically.
“She just happened to be here with a date, too,” Laurel gushed, placing an arm around my waist as she spoke. “I’m so glad we ran into each other. What are the odds?”
“Me too,” Dru agreed. “We’ve been in business about a year and a half now, but it’s always great to branch out and make new contacts. And to think, I almost didn’t come. Meeting you makes this boring date worth the trip.”
I chuckled at Dru’s candor, then turned to Laurel when the dinner bell rang and said, “That’s our cue,” before turning to Dru and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully we’ll see each other again soon.”
Laurel let me go to give her newfound friend a hug, then said, “I hope your date gets better.”
Dru rolled her eyes and said, “I doubt it. Have a good night.”
We watched as she made her way through the crowd and I winced when she stopped at none other than Brenton Biles.
Poor woman.
“Ready?” I asked, and at Laurel’s nod, placed my hand on her lower back and guided her into the dining area.