The CEO Buys In
Page 95
He gave a tight smile. “Surprising the general is an accomplishment in itself.” He looked down at the floor. “My mother’s mental health issues were not his fault. He didn’t handle them well, but he didn’t create them.” He took a deep breath. “No one deserves to go through the hell of having his wife commit suicide.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, and they were bleak with pain. She wanted to wrap herself around him and make him forget. Instead she cupped her palm against his cheek, feeling the satin of his freshly shaved skin. “You don’t need a drink. You’ve forgiven him.”
He made a gesture of disagreement. “There’s a difference between understanding and forgiveness.”
“One leads to the other.”
“You’re an eternal optimist.” He took her hand away from his face and used it to move her toward the bar again. “A glass of champagne and a scotch on the rocks.”
“Here you are, Mr. Trainor.” The bartender handed the slim glass flute to Nathan with a smile before he picked up a scotch bottle. He was a short, sturdy man, his sandy hair shot through with streaks of silver.
“Thanks,” Nathan said, passing the flute to Chloe as recognition dawned in his eyes. “Dino Sparks,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re still here. How are you? And when the hell did you start calling me Mr. Trainor?”
The two men shook hands. “You’re a big shot in New York now,” Dino said, going back to pouring the scotch.
“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t taught me everything I know about electrical wiring.”
Dino’s face lit up, but he shook his head. “I showed you a few tricks, that’s all. You got smarter than me fast.”
“Chloe, I’d like you to meet my mentor, Dino. I did a lot of my best tinkering in his workshop. I think I still owe him a replacement tone probe amplifier.” The lines around Nathan’s mouth had lightened as he introduced them.
She shook hands with the bartender. “I love meeting Nathan’s old friends. Did he ever blow anything up?”
Dino burst out laughing. “Ever? He caught something on fire at least once a week.”
Nathan grinned. It was like watching him when he slept; he became a younger, more carefree version of himself. “I did it on purpose, you know.”
“He liked to set off the fire alarm,” Dino said, nodding. He looked around and lowered his voice. “Just to annoy his father.”
Chloe wished Dino hadn’t mentioned the general, but Nathan’s grin didn’t waver. “And it worked,” he said with relish.
Just as she was about to prod Dino for more stories, Uncle Fred’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers. “General and Mrs. Trainor invite everyone to join them on the floor to share their first dance as a married couple.”
The lilting strains of a waltz swelled through the room as the general led Angel to the center of the room. After a second of standing in perfect stillness, Nathan’s father spun his new wife into a graceful turn in time to the music. Guests lined the edge of the dance floor, watching the couple move together with fluid ease. After one circuit of the floor, the general barked, “Does no one know how to follow a simple order? Get out here and dance.”
Laughter rose from the crowd, and a few couples did some tentative box steps. None could hold a candle to the general and his bride.
Suddenly, Nathan took the champagne flute from Chloe’s hand and set it on the bar beside his scotch. “Let’s give them some competition.”
“Wait . . . what?”
“We’re obeying the general’s orders.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and propelled her toward the dance floor while she tried to walk slowly, hoping the music would change. She was wearing high slender heels and a straight skirt, not optimal waltzing attire. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had a waltz partner in, oh, ten years at least.
The music was still going when Nathan led her onto the parquet and turned her around to face him. She took a deep breath and put her left hand on his shoulder, feeling the solidity of him through the light wool of his suit. When he put his hand on the small of her back, she felt a zing of exhilaration along with her nerves. Then he took her right hand in his, his arm strong and firm so she could rely on it for guidance. They stood still, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment as the music came to the end of a phrase. She shifted her grip on his shoulder, and he gave a tiny nod.
Then he was spinning her around the floor with the same expertise as his father. For the first few steps she was stiff with worry that she would stumble and embarrass both of them.
“You’re thinking too much,” Nathan murmured as he stopped twirling to allow her to catch her breath and balance for a split second. “I’ll support you.”
“I—” Chloe shut up as he swung her into another dizzying circle. He flattened his palm on her back and pressed her closer so their bodies were touching. Now she could feel the shift in his weight, the subtle lean to one side or another, the change of angle in his elbow, and she could let him take her wherever he wanted.
She forgot they were competing with the general. She forgot that Ed, Ben, and a platoon of Marines were watching. She even forgot the bet. It was all Nathan, his gray eyes locked on her face, the strength of his arms enveloping her, the heady feeling of melding together both bodies and minds to move as one. She wanted the music to go on forever.
He lifted his eyes to hers, and they were bleak with pain. She wanted to wrap herself around him and make him forget. Instead she cupped her palm against his cheek, feeling the satin of his freshly shaved skin. “You don’t need a drink. You’ve forgiven him.”
He made a gesture of disagreement. “There’s a difference between understanding and forgiveness.”
“One leads to the other.”
“You’re an eternal optimist.” He took her hand away from his face and used it to move her toward the bar again. “A glass of champagne and a scotch on the rocks.”
“Here you are, Mr. Trainor.” The bartender handed the slim glass flute to Nathan with a smile before he picked up a scotch bottle. He was a short, sturdy man, his sandy hair shot through with streaks of silver.
“Thanks,” Nathan said, passing the flute to Chloe as recognition dawned in his eyes. “Dino Sparks,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re still here. How are you? And when the hell did you start calling me Mr. Trainor?”
The two men shook hands. “You’re a big shot in New York now,” Dino said, going back to pouring the scotch.
“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t taught me everything I know about electrical wiring.”
Dino’s face lit up, but he shook his head. “I showed you a few tricks, that’s all. You got smarter than me fast.”
“Chloe, I’d like you to meet my mentor, Dino. I did a lot of my best tinkering in his workshop. I think I still owe him a replacement tone probe amplifier.” The lines around Nathan’s mouth had lightened as he introduced them.
She shook hands with the bartender. “I love meeting Nathan’s old friends. Did he ever blow anything up?”
Dino burst out laughing. “Ever? He caught something on fire at least once a week.”
Nathan grinned. It was like watching him when he slept; he became a younger, more carefree version of himself. “I did it on purpose, you know.”
“He liked to set off the fire alarm,” Dino said, nodding. He looked around and lowered his voice. “Just to annoy his father.”
Chloe wished Dino hadn’t mentioned the general, but Nathan’s grin didn’t waver. “And it worked,” he said with relish.
Just as she was about to prod Dino for more stories, Uncle Fred’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers. “General and Mrs. Trainor invite everyone to join them on the floor to share their first dance as a married couple.”
The lilting strains of a waltz swelled through the room as the general led Angel to the center of the room. After a second of standing in perfect stillness, Nathan’s father spun his new wife into a graceful turn in time to the music. Guests lined the edge of the dance floor, watching the couple move together with fluid ease. After one circuit of the floor, the general barked, “Does no one know how to follow a simple order? Get out here and dance.”
Laughter rose from the crowd, and a few couples did some tentative box steps. None could hold a candle to the general and his bride.
Suddenly, Nathan took the champagne flute from Chloe’s hand and set it on the bar beside his scotch. “Let’s give them some competition.”
“Wait . . . what?”
“We’re obeying the general’s orders.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and propelled her toward the dance floor while she tried to walk slowly, hoping the music would change. She was wearing high slender heels and a straight skirt, not optimal waltzing attire. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had a waltz partner in, oh, ten years at least.
The music was still going when Nathan led her onto the parquet and turned her around to face him. She took a deep breath and put her left hand on his shoulder, feeling the solidity of him through the light wool of his suit. When he put his hand on the small of her back, she felt a zing of exhilaration along with her nerves. Then he took her right hand in his, his arm strong and firm so she could rely on it for guidance. They stood still, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment as the music came to the end of a phrase. She shifted her grip on his shoulder, and he gave a tiny nod.
Then he was spinning her around the floor with the same expertise as his father. For the first few steps she was stiff with worry that she would stumble and embarrass both of them.
“You’re thinking too much,” Nathan murmured as he stopped twirling to allow her to catch her breath and balance for a split second. “I’ll support you.”
“I—” Chloe shut up as he swung her into another dizzying circle. He flattened his palm on her back and pressed her closer so their bodies were touching. Now she could feel the shift in his weight, the subtle lean to one side or another, the change of angle in his elbow, and she could let him take her wherever he wanted.
She forgot they were competing with the general. She forgot that Ed, Ben, and a platoon of Marines were watching. She even forgot the bet. It was all Nathan, his gray eyes locked on her face, the strength of his arms enveloping her, the heady feeling of melding together both bodies and minds to move as one. She wanted the music to go on forever.
