Babysitting the Billionaire(9)
Beau stopped short. “Why no cutlery?”
He didn’t expect this to be a short meeting? May vamped. “This restaurant makes a big deal of the silverware; they bring it out special for each course.” He wasn’t really listening to her, obviously, because he fell for it.
She’d seen Jane Lindell in photos and news video, of course, but when the senator breezed across the threshold, May had the feeling she’d never seen anything like this.
It could have been the power suit, the power posture, or the perfect fake-sun-streaked hair, but May suspected Sen. Lindell’s secret was her amazing face. Not beautiful, not perfectly symmetrical even, but the combination of strong jaw, pert nose, eyes somehow both sharp and round, and a generously wide mouth stopped you in your tracks. Even Beau Kurck, allegedly familiar with the face and the person, was taken aback for a moment.
“Who is this handsome man, Sadie?” The senator shared an odd sort of glance with Sadie, who simpered—really, that was the word for it—and shut the door. They must have left the senator’s staffer out at the bar.
The senator turned back to Beau, drinking him in. May didn’t blame her. Beau’s beautifully cut suit completely covered but somehow also enhanced his beautifully cut body. But for some reason the senator’s gaze slid too quickly past him to May, standing at his side.
“Cute cut. Pageboy suits you.”
May struggled to come up with an answer. No one in power had ever noticed her before, much less said anything to her. While she’d railed about it to her friends, it turned out she now saw that she really did feel more comfortable as one of the anonymous and unmentioned.
But before she could get even a simple thank you out, the senator’s genial, glad-handing expression froze.
She looked back at Beau, and her almond eyes widened. “Boris?”
“In the flesh.”
The senator, that power player, seemed to involuntarily take a step back. A chill settled at the edges of her eyes. May fought the urge to step closer to Beau, protect him. As if she could offer any protection.
The senator looked him up and down. “You look fantastic, Beau.” Somehow she made such an extreme compliment sound back-handed, and his nickname an epithet.
“I’ve done everything you said.” Beau’s voice had a quality May hadn’t yet heard. Firm, yes, determined, yes, gorgeous, yes. What was it?
Honest. He was speaking from his heart.
“I need a drink,” The Senator moved around the table, away from them, and sat down.
May picked up a glass and looked at the pitchers. “Water? Margarita?”
Lindell shot a startled glance at her. Beau interrupted. “You like margaritas.”
“Liked. Ten years ago. Bourbon on ice, please. Now.”
Sadie jumped into action. She pulled May by the arm toward the door, opened it and pushed her through. “I’ll get the drink. End every sentence with ‘senator,’ remember?”
The senator called from behind them. “Girl. May, right? Come sit next to me. We’ll start with water.”
Sadie pushed her back into the room, and May poured three glasses of water. Placing one at the seat directly across from the senator, she brought the other two with her as she went to sit as invisibly as possible beside the politician.
Lindell drank down half the water in one gulp. May was rather glad they’d started with the water and not the bourbon.
“Sit, Beau. It’s been a long time.” She sighed, as if she’d rather it had stayed in the past.
He sat, loosening his tie a bit as if it helped him clear his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me privately.”
“I agreed to meet Sadie’s secret funder.”
Beau Kurck took a breath in, and changed in front of May’s eyes. She could have sworn he was three inches taller, his eyes steely determined, and stranger still, that his smell and taste had charged the air with something. Electricity? Power?
“You told me I wasn’t marriage material. I was frail, unambitious, not living up to my potential, weak. Looking back, I have to agree. Let me finish. I’ll be short.”
“I changed my body, my mind, and my career. I run a multi-million-dollar company that brings work to my hometown and joy to millions. I’ve done something with my life, as you put it. Still, something is missing.”
He leaned in, arms resting on the table. “You’ve done so well, Jane. I was so proud when you ran for your late husband’s House seat, and to be the youngest senator, how marvelous. But something is still missing in your life, as well.”
May saw that gaping hole in her own life. If only someone like Beau Kurck wanted to help her fill it. She was melting for him, and he wasn’t even talking to her.