Babysitting the Billionaire(10)
“So, Janey, I’m back. I haven’t been faithful, but that’s probably an advantage. I know what I’m doing now. I can love you better. I want to love you better.”
He paused. Now was the time to ask, and May was sure he didn’t want to ask. He wanted to tell Jane Lindell to say yes. May wanted to tell her to, as well.
Beau reached halfway across the table, palm up. “Jane Lindell, will you marry me?”
Yes, yes, May said silently, pulling her own hands in to cover her heart. How blasted romantic! She pulled her gaze away from that outstretched hand and looked at the woman beside her.
Sen. Jan Lindell’s back was pressed into the back of the chair. Her hands were clasped on the edge of the table. Her eyes spoke pity.
Shit.
“Boris. Beau. I am so proud of what you’ve done. I knew you could do it, and if I was the prod that booted you in the butt, I’m glad.”
He pulled back his hand, sliding it under the table. “But.”
“But I never felt the same way for you as you did for me. We were in high school, for heaven’s sake. You know, that fumbling attempt at sex when we were seventeen, it was actually good for me.”
May’s ears were burning. Where was Sadie with that drink?
“So you could reject me with no qualms?” His voice was flat, but with an effort.
“Sweetie.” He winced. Even May hated to be called sweetie. To call a man that—ouch. “Listen. This is the thing. It’s not known, outside a few, but I’m gay. My time with you, that’s what finally forced me to admit it.” She turned her hands, palm up, and shrugged.
May made a noisy show of reaching the pitcher of margaritas. She did not want to see his face. She concentrated on the glasses, pouring out two, making sure the ice didn’t splash too loud. She pushed one across the table and took a big swig of the second.
He didn’t touch it. “But you were married.”
“A beard. He liked men; I liked women.”
“So the bereaved widow, all an act?”
“I did love him, and I still miss him. But I didn’t fuck him.”
May watched his glass rise as he lifted it, as he took a small sip, and lingered on his mouth as she heard the glass clink back onto the table. He was pressing his lips so tightly together she was sure they’d have a crease.
“I see.”
She raised her eyes to his. He was concentrating on the glass. Then he looked up but past them, to his left. Remembering?
Sadie’s entrance did not faze him, but the senator sighed her relief. Sadie’s gaze flicked across all their faces as she stepped past May to hand the drink to the senator.
Lindell took the drink, and grabbed onto Sadie’s hand with her other hand. “You didn’t tell me it was Boris Kurcki.”
“Boris?” Sadie’s gaze flashed across the table, to the ruggedly handsome, abstracted man who sat there. “But he’s not coltish at all.”
“Not anymore,” the senator said, draining her drink. “Get me another.”
Sadie frowned. “You have a dinner speech later.”
The senator leveled a chilling glance at her, and after a long moment, Sadie slipped back toward the door.
May followed Beau’s gaze following Sadie to the door, settling on the door as she closed it again. Flashing back to the senator.
“The penguin’s flack?”
“I had no idea it was you behind Cranky Penguins. Brilliant. Kurck is the common spelling?”
He passed a hand across his eyes.
The senator turned to May. “He’s all yours, sweetie. And I don’t need to remind you, do I, that this conversation is confidential? Sadie would not be pleased if anything were to leak.”
“Of course. Senator,” May remembered to add at the last minute.
“Think I’ll take that drink at the bar.” Lindell pressed her hands on the table to push to a stand. Beau, too, pushed up to stand, swaying slightly. May scrambled to her feet and out of the way.
The senator held her hand out across the table. Beau shook it, a pitiful shadow of what May knew he’d wanted.
“I am proud of you, Beau. I wish you all the best.” Jane Lindell’s step grew firmer with each step toward the door. May held it open for her, and by the time she was through it she was The Senator again.
May heard her assignment slump back into his chair.
“You want to be alone for a minute?”
“No. Come, sit next to me, like you did for her.”
With one more longing look at the outside, happy world, May shut the door on it. She grabbed her glass and pushed the platter of pitchers closer to Beau. He lifted the margarita pitcher and refilled his glass. He held it up for her, and she set her glass on the table for him to top hers off.