Page 10 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
“Hi, Luca. Wanted to see if you’re going to the big gala tomorrow night.” He shifts on his feet and glances at Ford, who’s still deep in conversation with Mr. Tall and Gangly.
I check my phone, shaking my head. “Not aware of a gala. Did I miss an invite?”
“You might not be on their radar yet. It’s the Manhattan Homeless Youth Foundation. It’s a good place to be seen and to network.”
“Eh. I’ll see about donating, but they don’t want a Mafia presence at their fancy dinner.”
Rand chuckles, adjusting his collar. “You’d be surprised. Turns out, we’ve paid for two plates, but Joe and I can’t go. Joe gave his ticket to Ford. Thought I’d, uh, give you mine,” he says, jiggling his phone at me.
Even with this evening feeling a little sideways, I’m tickled by the matchmaking.
“Sure, Rand. You have my email, right? Send it over. I might be late, but I’m sure I can make an appearance.”
“Great! I’m glad the tickets won’t go to waste.” Rand rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting to Joe.
I lightly touch his shoulder, fully expecting a startle response. People can’t help it around me.
“You and Joe aren’t subtle, but I appreciate it.”
Rand dips his head. “Don’t get mad at Joe. It was my idea.”
“I don’t get mad at my friends, Rand. I save that for disrespectful mobsters, you feel me?”
Rand laughs. “Okay. I’ll try to remember that. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”
Ford’s laugh draws my attention to him again. Yeah, maybe I can rebrand myself for the larger communityandmy fashionable friend in the purple glasses.
4
FORD
I love my life.I really do. Rand and Joe kindly gave me their extra ticket, but I find myself at yet another gala fundraiser, wondering what any of it means. Tens of thousands of dollars spent getting rich people into the same space so they will give over tens of thousands of dollars.
I know the charity wins out in the end, but it’s ridiculous to have to lay out so much cash just to get people to open their wallets.
I sigh. Pretty sure this is burnout. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a vacation. Not that I’m complaining, of course. Aside from my work on the boards of various companies, most of my recent efforts have gone toward helping companies devise retirement plans for their employees. I take pride in getting better results than most people anticipate.
I adjust my glasses and immediately feel silly. I started wearing my contacts to these fundraiser things so I’d be taken more seriously, but when I heard Luca would be here, I put on my brightest pair of frames, hoping he’d comment on them.
Yet he’s nowhere to be seen.
Refocusing my attention on the small circle of people I’ve been chatting with, I realize that Bitsy—or whatever her name is—is holding up her glass, and everyone is toasting…something.
I raise my glass and smile stupidly while everybody shouts, “To Franklin Delano Roosevelt!”
With my glass empty, I make my way back to the bar.
“Soda with lime, please.”
I smile at the cute bartender. He smiles back, his eyes tracking down my colorful outfit. While I appreciate the attention, I’m too enamored of a certain mobster to consider the possibilities. I thank him, tip well, and walk away.
Right into the last person I ever want to see.
“Ford. What the fuck is this that you’re wearing?”
Fallon O’Shea.
He and I dated for a while in college, but he was not a nice person and always made fun of…well, everything about me.
