Chip was right. He had money. But there were some things that money couldn’t buy, things that Chip had been born with. If that really was the most important thing to her, Deacon would never be good enough.
“Besides, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking to my campaign manager, and we’ve decided that her past isn’t the career bombshell I thought it might be. In fact, it might even be an advantage. I’m not polling well with the working-class demographic. Having a fiancée with a tragic backstory like hers—adopted with a drug-addicted mother and humble origins—might give me an edge come election time. It makes me more relatable to the masses.”
Deacon looked at Chip’s smug expression and felt his hands curl into fists at his side. Cecelia was nothing more than a campaign prop to him. Chip might be more connected than him, but he wasn’t stronger. He had no doubt that he could lay Chip out on the floor without much effort. It would be amazingly gratifying to feel his knuckles pound into the man’s jaw. He could just imagine the stunned looks on the faces of everyone around them as Chip lay bleeding on the newly laid marble floor.
But he wouldn’t do that. He liked to think that he’d gained some class along with his money over the years. Starting a brawl at the opening gala of his five-star resort wouldn’t earn him any new friends in this town. He wouldn’t ruin this night for Shane and Brandee, or any of the hotel’s employees. They had all worked too hard to make tonight a success, and he didn’t want to undo their efforts with his brash behavior. Chip wasn’t worth it.
Besides, if Chip was telling the truth and Cecelia had chosen to return to him after everything he’d done to her...she wasn’t the woman he loved. The Cecelia he wanted was the one he’d fallen for again in Cannes. There, she had been happy and free of all the pressures this damned town put on her. That woman wouldn’t have returned to Chip after his cold betrayal. But perhaps that woman had stayed behind in France.
Deacon eyed Chip coolly before swallowing his pride and holding out his hand like a gentleman would. “Well, congratulations on your engagement. You two certainly deserve each other.”
Chip narrowed his gaze at Deacon’s backhanded compliment, but chose to grin and accept it anyway.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Deacon said, walking away before Chip could respond. He had to get away from him before he reconsidered punching him in the face. Instead, he sought out Shane and Brandee. He knew this was his party, too, but he couldn’t stand to be here another moment. He certainly didn’t want to be a witness to Cecelia and Chip’s reconciliation. Seeing her on that bastard’s arm was more than he could take. It was better that he leave now than risk causing a scene and ruining the whole night.
When he found Shane, he leaned in and whispered a few things to him. Shane turned to him with a surprised look on his face but knew better than to start a discussion about it right now. He simply nodded and clapped Deacon on the shoulder.
Deacon turned and disappeared into the bowels of the hotel where only staff were allowed to go. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was headed, he just knew that he had to put some distance between himself and the woman he had been foolish enough to fall in love with the second time.
Shame on him.
* * *
Cecelia circled the ballroom for the third time, still unsuccessful in locating Deacon. She had been anxious about tonight—her first public appearance since Maverick spilled her secrets—but as she maneuvered through the crowd, everyone had carried on as if nothing had happened.
She was glad because she refused to have tonight ruined by old drama that was out of her control. She had more important things to tend to. She was bubbling over with nerves and excitement, eager to find Deacon, but so far she was having no luck. She was certain he was here—she had seen him earlier, and his car was still in the lot—but now he had vanished into thin air.
Arriving late to the party had not been a part of her plan for the evening, but it had been unavoidable. She’d had to make an unplanned stop to confirm something she had suspected since they got back from Cannes. Now that she knew for certain, she couldn’t wait to find Deacon, but he was lost in a sea of tuxedos and cocktail dresses.
She was on the way to the office suites to see if he was hiding out and working instead of enjoying the party. That was when she found herself face-to-face with her ex-fiancé in a secluded hallway.
Chip was wearing his favorite Armani tuxedo, showing off his good looks the way he’d always liked to do. There had been a time when Cecelia could have been swayed by his handsome appearance, but that was in the past. There was no comparison between him and Deacon, and she couldn’t understand how she let herself waste so much time on a man with few redeeming qualities ou
tside of his social standing.
“There you are, kitten. I have been looking all over for you, tonight.”
Cecelia folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze at him. “I can’t imagine why. And please don’t use pet names, Chip. I’m not your kitten. I’m not your anything, if you recall us breaking up a few weeks ago.”
Chip smiled, oozing all the practiced charm that he used on women and constituents alike. “Listen, I’m sorry about how all that went down. It was wrong of me, and I reacted poorly.”
Cecelia was stunned by his apology, although it meant very little to her now. She didn’t understand why he was bothering her, much less cornering her at the opening, when she had more important things to be doing. What was he after? “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me I—”
Chip reached out and caught her arm, stopping her from pushing past him and returning to the party. “What’s the rush, kitten? We really need to talk about some things. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us.”
“Us? We don’t have anything to talk about, Chip, but especially not about us.” Cecelia was desperate to escape, jerking away from his grasp. She glanced over his shoulder, hoping to catch the eye of anybody who could come and rescue her, but there was no one in sight. The party was carrying on at the other end of the hallway. “I would rather have a root canal than talk to you right now.”
Chip just smiled. “My favorite part of my kitten is her claws. Now just relax and give me five minutes. We were together a long time, certainly you can spare a moment or two. That’s all I ask.”
Cecelia sighed. “Okay, fine. Five minutes, that’s it. And stop calling me kitten. Do it one more time and I walk.”
He held up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay. No more pet names. Cecelia, I came here looking for you tonight because the last few weeks apart have helped me realize that I was a fool. My feelings for you are stronger than I thought, even stronger than my concerns about your background. I’ve realized they’re unfounded. I need you by my side going into this next reelection.”
Cecelia could hardly believe her ears. When she was a liability, he couldn’t dump her fast enough. Now that he decided she could be an asset to his campaign, he was crawling back. He was delusional to think she would go along with nonsense like this. “Chip, you’ve lost your mind.”
“No, hear me out. You and I are good together. We always have been. We make the perfect American couple. Voters are just going to eat up the classic, traditional values we represent. This is a win-win for us both, Cecelia.”
She could only shake her head. “You never wanted me, Chip. You just wanted some trophy wife you can parade around at fund-raisers and rallies. That’s not what I want out of my marriage.”