“Ms. Bauer,” Qasim called, drawing everyone’s attention and silence, “I think what Xander’s referring to is the money you’re turning your back on by offering us the use of your home at no charge.”
“Qasim’s right, Ms. Bauer,” Jennifer French, seated nearest to her board colleague Xander Battle, agreed. “It’s an awful lot of money. Even when the hotels are at their most reasonable, they rake in quite a hefty sum of cash for our events.”
Vectra’s lovely face was further softened by the indulgent smile gracing her mouth. “I appreciate you guys for looking out for me, but I honestly want no payment for this. Carro isn’t hurting for cash—especially none that pulls funds away from a worthy cause like this.”
“Hear, hear!” someone cheered, and many raised their glasses in toast.
“Besides,” Vectra called, “I’m looking forward to all the fun we’ll have. I rarely have anyone out for sleepovers.”
The group burst into laughter. Everyone’s concerns seemed to have abated. Sadly, Qasim was still not in the mood for humor. The fact was never more evident than when he watched Will Lloyd, seated right next to Vectra, lean over to whisper into her ear.
Vectra laughed, whispering something back to Will, followed by the clinking of their water glasses together. Qasim finished what remained of his bourbon and motioned to one of the waitstaff for another. Never had he regretted his high tolerance for alcohol more than in that moment.
Vectra hadn’t been oblivious to the evident disapproval radiating from Qasim’s side of the table. It would’ve been difficult to miss, given the blaring intensity of the glare he fixed her way. She didn’t know why the hell he was so upset with her.
Though she’d been happy to do it, she had, after all, given his foundation quite a magnanimous gift by agreeing to accommodate a tremendous event at no charge. The guy could at least show a little gratitude. Yet he preferred to sit in his chair like a king on high and glower at her.
Thankfully, Will Lloyd’s good nature had taken the edge off. His wickedly amusing comments had kept her laughing. She hadn’t taken any of what he said seriously. Aside from his first comment, which had been in response to her sleepover tease, the rest of his remarks had been overheard and enjoyed by everyone on their end of the outrageously huge round table.
The meeting was drawing to a close. The board had trickled out first, followed by most of the Wilder executive staff. Only Minka and Will remained along with Qasim and Vectra. Robb DeWitt had gone to handle closing procedures with his staff. Minka was the first of the foursome to say her good-nights. And then, there were three.
Qasim’s sour mood went from bad to worse. He’d almost forgotten how talkative his old friend could be—especially when the topic opened up to old army stories. Will’s favorite: how he’d saved Sim’s life.
The retelling of his least flattering moment was a story Qasim could’ve done without. Still, he was willing to sit through it for the opportunity to study Vectra’s reaction. He watched the expressions change on her lovely face and was intrigued by the horror and honest concern he witnessed as she listened to detail after detail of the events leading up to his traumatic ordeal.
A woman’s love and affection can be the best kind of therapy, Robb DeWitt had said.
Qasim realized how very much he wanted to experience what they meant firsthand. Furthermore, he wanted to experience them with Vectra Bauer, regardless of what all his damned voices of reason told him.
He wanted her, and she’d made it more than clear that she wanted him. He’d never been one to deny going after what he really wanted. The reasons he’d denied himself seemed flimsy. Maybe once he’d given in to his curiosity about what she was like in bed, he could move on. He didn’t buy that for a second, but it sounded good.
Qasim tuned back into his table partners. Will had evidently wrapped up his war story and was working on snagging an invite back to Vectra’s.
Vectra was silently warning herself not to look across the table at Qasim. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight, she knew, given the fact that he’d already threatened one of their best friends with bodily harm for simply wanting to pick up a phone to call her. Having his employee, old army buddy or not, offer to take her home had to be weighing heavy on the flimsiest tether of his restraint.
She stood. “Thanks for the offer, Will. Um—” she eased her tote strap across her shoulder “—I’ve got my car.”
She had to admit she was rather taken aback by the offer. For most of the night, Will Lloyd had been friendly and engaging. Now, she all too easily recognized the more suggestive tinge to his manner. Obviously, she’d been more fixed on Qasim than she thought. She’d completely misread what Will was putting out.