Page 61 of The Revenge Game
He’d make an excellent portrait subject for a Renaissance master, especially if they specialized in painting anxious men tugging at bow ties.
“You’re going to wreck your bow tie if you keep fidgeting with it,” I say.
“I swear it’s trying to strangle me,” Justin says, but his hands drop to his sides.
He’s left his bow tie slightly crooked, and I can’t help reaching across to straighten it, my fingers brushing against the warm skin of his neck.
Justin seems to stop breathing. His beautiful eyes catch on mine.
“Thanks,” he says softly.
I drop my hand and wrench my gaze from his.
“Just doing my civic duty. Can’t have you showing up looking like your cats dressed you in the dark.”
“I believe that’s slander against my cats’ styling abilities. Although I admit Cassie’s idea of accessorizing seems to involve a lot of shedding.”
I laugh, and Justin smiles.
But despite the lightness of his words, Justin seems to have just transferred his nervous energy from his bow tie to his leg, as it starts bouncing with such intensity that I’m worried we might accidentally trigger London’s early warning system for natural disasters.
“You okay?” I ask.
He blows out a breath. “Yeah, just…these events can be intense sometimes.”
“Intense, how?”
“There’s just so many people, some I’ve met before, but I never seem to remember them, and that can be really embarrassing…” He blows out a breath. “And there’s this woman, Vivian—a major donor. She’s generous, but she treats the shelter staff and volunteers like we’re her personal entertainment. Last fundraiser, she cornered me in the coat check room and tried to convince me that what I really needed was an older woman to ‘show me the ropes.’”
I blink at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I had to pretend Maria needed my help with an emergency crisis.” He leans back against the seat, but hisshoulders are tense. “Apparently, she’s been telling everyone she’s going to win the date with me tonight. If she wins, I’m worried I’ll have to spend the night fending off her advances without offending her.”
A protective feeling flares inside me. “That’s…not okay.”
Justin attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m probably overthinking it. I mean, it’s for charity, right?”
Justin’s obvious unease about Vivian makes me realize that in the months I’ve been working at DTL Enterprises, I’ve never seen Justin go on a date.
It’s definitely not due to a lack of options. I’ve witnessed the constant parade of female colleagues who find excuses to stop by his desk. And the sales department has a running joke about the number of female account managers who ask for dinner meetings with Justin.
Yet Justin somehow manages to stay friendly while keeping everyone at arm’s length.
We pull up at the venue for the auction, which ends my musing about Justin’s love life or lack of it.
A dark-haired woman spots us as soon as we walk in, rushing over in a whirl of enthusiasm and clipboard efficiency.
“This must be Drew. I’m Maria,” she offers her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Maria,” I reply.
“Thank you so much for all your work with the website.”
“You’re welcome,” I say awkwardly.
She turns to Justin. “Do you mind coming with me for a few minutes? The photographer wants some shots of you for social media coverage.”
Justin’s gaze slides to me. “Are you okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes?”
