It’s Just Business

I look over at Dylan nervously, still not sure if I made the right decision in inviting him to tonight’s party. This is basically ripping him from the relative safety of his penthouse and throwing him in a pit with feral lions… or lionesses, I suppose, since I’m thinking specifically of Maggie and Ami.

My hands are clammy at the thought of Dylan seeing this side of my life, being a part of it and possibly us being… more. I try not to make it a big deal and I try not to overthink. But the fact that I pushed him like that, called his bluff and showed my ass and he still wants me… I don’t deserve it, and my feelings for him have somehow grown even more. I feel like I’m perched on the edge and he alone has the power to push me over.

I love him.

It’s so damn obvious to me. I love Dylan Sharpe. I know we’re different, though. Our lives are nothing alike.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask him, pulling his attention away from the passing cars on the street outside. Thankfully, Vince, his driver, is too busy with the traffic as we head toward our destination because Dylan looks at me with amusement lighting his eyes because the PDA is a bit much. I lean into his side, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. His touch and warmth are a soothing balm and reassure me.

He answers with a smirk on his face although his tone is deadpan. “It might be a bit… well, to steal one of Ami’s words… wooo!” I can’t help but laugh when his brows jump up his forehead at the odd sound coming from me. This man’s heard me moan, cry, gasp, and more, but a ‘wooo’ is apparently the shocking oddity.

With his sleeves rolled up, his shirt unbuttoned, and a five o’clock shadow, he looks a touch more rugged today, and I freaking love this look on him. Laid back but handsome.

His answering smile is full of confidence when he leans back to look at me. “I’m excited to meet your friends and happy to do anything with you. Even if it involves ‘woooing’.” He says it flatly, like the concept of fun is foreign to him, but I know that’s not true. He’s absolutely fun, just in a very different way from Maggie and Ami.

I try to relax, warmed by his words and rarely seen dry sense of humor.

The night he found me in his office, I was scared and confused and not sure if I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I warred with myself on whether to just ignore it, like I did with my instincts when Evan cheated on me, or to get to the bottom of it. It very well could have ended my career, but when push came to shove, I needed to know that Dylan was the man I felt he was in my heart. Even if it meant costing me my job. Money comes and goes, but if I’m falling for a man, sleeping with him and giving him everything I have, I want to get to the bottom of every issue. I hadn’t ‘done’ anything, but my struggle with reconciling what I knew of Dylan personally and who he was professionally with who he might’ve been years ago had me fighting a battle between my head and heart.

Our talk that night has led to so much more. It’s like a boundary we didn’t know existed has been lifted. No secrets, no hiding, just the two of us wanting each other and not giving a fuck about anything else.

I’m not sure what Dylan is doing to handle Evan, nor do I want to know. Whatever it is, I trust him to do it right, make it hurt Evan, and be technically legal while a bit morally gray, which I’m okay with. I appreciate that he’s willing to do what I’m not, both because of my own character and my current position at the bottom of the power structure between the three of us. I feel like Dylan’s my protective guard dog, one who’s willing to bite back because he’s been directly harmed by our attacker too.

As for us, we’ve been better than ever, taking the time to meet not only at his office, but to go to his place for more private, longer dates. And we don’t only rip each other’s clothes off. We talk, we share… we’re something I never would’ve dreamed we’d become…

A couple.

It might not be splashed across the front page of the paper, and neither of us is making any public declarations, but for us, it’s very real and very serious. Honestly, Dylan probably would stand up on the conference table at work and make an announcement if I was okay with it, but I’m trying to maintain some sense of discretion.

Which is why tonight’s a big deal. This will be our first official, public outing as a couple, and I’m proud to be at Dylan’s side as he meets my friends.

Vince stops the car at the curb, and there’s a knock on the door a moment before it’s opened by a man in black slacks, a black Polo, and black sunglasses even though it’s well after dark. He holds his hand out, helping me from the car, and then Dylan joins me as the luxury car pulls away behind us.

In front of us is a wall of horizontal wide-plank wood paneling that’s broken up by a pair of soaring double doors with black iron bar handles that are nearly as tall as I am. The sign above the awning reads Los Ingobernables.

Dylan holds the door open for me, and inside, I tell the hostess that we’re here for the Ami Rossman birthday party. She leads us across the large space, expertly dodging white tablecloth-covered tables, a dance floor with only a few people on it at this early hour, and a bar surrounded by people. “Here’s the rest of your group,” she says as she opens a velvet rope to allow us access to the private VIP space, but Ami’s already spotted us.

“Raven! You made it!” Ami squeals happily as she beelines directly for me. She wraps me in a tight hug, jerking me from side to side. “And you brought him! Bring it in, birthday girls get all the hugs.” She holds her arms out wide.

Dylan glances at me, a little unsure and a bit amused at Ami’s exuberance, but when I don’t react, he gives Ami a polite hug that’s over faster than a blink. “Nice to formally meet you, Ami. I’ve heard a lot about you. Most of it good,” he jokes.

Ami beams and swats at him. “You don’t want to know all the things I’ve heard about you. They are definitely not good.” She laughs, certainly a drink or two in.

He chuckles while I glare at Ami, fighting back a grin. “Shut up!”

“What?” she says, feigning innocence. She spies a waiter passing by with a tray of golden-fried mini-muffin-looking hors d’oeuvres and points. “Those are little bites of heaven. I don’t know what they are, but I’ve had like five of them already and I’m going for number six. Excuse me.”

She chases after the waiter, her cream sundress fluttering behind her as she goes, and I’m pretty sure she actually grabs two or three of whatever the heavenly bites are.

Hand in hand, Dylan and I work our way around the room. His fingers intertwine with mine, and when he gives me a squeeze, I look up at him. I can’t help all the emotions that flood through me. We say hi to Maggie, meet some of Ami’s work friends, and I introduce Dylan to Ami’s parents and then Maggie’s parents and brother, Robert. He’s charming in his own rough way, complimenting Melinda’s dress and making business small talk with John before asking about Robert’s schooling.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I’ve met Maggie’s brother dozens of times over the years, and each time, he has a new obsession with a time period he’s mid-deep dive into for his master’s degree in history. I’ve heard lengthy lessons on everything from Queen Victoria to the Cold War. Based on the nearly full TED talk about the Korean War he’s giving us tonight, that must be his latest. And though I lose interest quickly and resort to polite Mmmhmms while fighting with my eyelids, Dylan listens intently and asks thoughtful questions that Robert seems to appreciate until Maggie intervenes.

“Robbie, it’s a party, not a lecture. Let them go,” she teases in a way only a sibling can do.

Robert startles and then grins. “Sorry, I get a little lost in my work.”

“I completely understand. I do the same thing,” Dylan replies with an amicable smile of his own. “If you want to hear about mineralogy mining laws in Nevada, let me know. It’s a recent project I’ve been learning a lot about.”

Maggie pulls Robert away, and we continue our way around the room, mingling here, chatting there, and having a good time. We even confirm that those hors d’oeuvres Ami was obsessing over are indeed heavenly.

Everything feels so different than it did at the fundraiser, which was the last time we attended an event like this. We’ve come so far since then. Dylan is no longer cautious and closed-off, acting like everyone is either out to get him or a possible connection. He’s friendly and open, laughing easily, telling funny stories, and impressing everyone with his knowledge of the city. I half wonder if he’s always been that way and I just haven’t been privy to that side of him or if now that we’re together, something’s changed for him like it has for me.

I’m always proud to be with him, but witnessing him relax feels like an important gift, like a trust he’s giving not only to me but to my friends. They might not understand the unique treasure that he is, but I do.

As for me, I feel steady, settled into the moment with Dylan at my side. What’s growing between us feels… real. And I couldn’t be happier. But I’m always waiting for the other foot to drop. It’s just too good. It’s surreal. I got the dream job AND the dream man. I don’t feel worthy of it, like this simply can’t be real.

Eventually, Ami’s mom, Jennifer, clinks a fork to a glass and invites us all to sit down at the long table off to the side of the room. We make our way over, and Dylan pulls out a chair for me, helping to push me in after I sit. He sits beside me, his arm naturally draping over the chair. He’s claiming me. It might appear casual, but it’s oh, so very bold, and I love it.

Dinner is delicious. It’s a fusion menu, so there’s a mix of spices and flavors I’ve never had together, but everything is really tasty.

“Here, try this,” Dylan requests, holding up a forkful of his tilapia with chimichurri sauce. When I open my mouth, he feeds the bite to me, and I moan at how tender and tangy it is.

When I look back at the table, I find Ami and Maggie staring at me with stars in their eyes. “You two are so cute,” Maggie teases and sways back and forth like a school girl, her short black dress swooshing around her thighs as she does, and I can’t help but grin.

Ami nods. “My birthday wish is to have a man look at me like Dylan’s looking at you.”

Surprised, I cut my eyes to Dylan to see how he’s looking at me, only to find it’s the way he always does—with an intense blend of hunger and interest. Like I’m the only person in the room. Or at least the only one he cares about. Everyone else could disappear in a blink, and I’m not sure Dylan would notice or give a shit.

I lean forward, pressing a quick peck to his lips, needing to let him know that I see him too and appreciate him more than he could know. I lean back, smiling, only for him to catch my jaw in his palm and pull me back in for a longer kiss. It’s still appropriate given our audience, but it makes me melt and wonder how soon Ami’s gonna cut the cake so we can leave.

When Dylan releases me, I’m drunk on him, and he looks down at me, his eyes darkened. A single blink later, they brighten and he smiles, cockily knowing all too well where my thoughts have run.

“Birthday wish amendment,” Ami says pointing her perfectly manicured finger. “That’s what I want.”

She gets her chance after dinner when the restaurant staff bring out a large cake covered in sparkling candles and we sing to her. Ami flashes me a wink, takes a big breath, and then blows the candles out. The smile on her face says her birthday celebration is turning out to be everything she wanted, and I’m so glad.

As it gets later, the party moves to the dance floor when a DJ takes over, promising to play a wide variety of songs and rhythms that’ll have us dancing all night. To my utter shock, Dylan holds his hand out to me.

“Would you like to dance?”

I gawk at him. “You dance?”

I don’t know why that surprises me so much, but it does. I wouldn’t think he’d have the time or inclination to learn to dance. Heck, before this week, I wasn’t even sure he knew how to let loose.

But I slip my hand into his, trusting that he can lead me… on the dance floor, in the bedroom, and honestly, anywhere.

I’m right. Dylan is a strong lead, and though I don’t know how to salsa, I find myself doing it, or at least I think I am. I only manage to step on his foot once, and with every misstep, we both laugh. It’s easy and light hearted, but the closeness of him and this moment lights my heart on fire. Whatever it is, I follow Dylan around the floor, knowing that at this point, I’d follow him into hell if he asked me to.

I’m not sure when it happened or if it was all once or in tiny percentage points, but I’ve fallen in love with Dylan Sharpe past the point of return. He holds my heart, and I trust him to treat it as the precious commodity that it is because he knows all too well how fragile it is since he watched as it was so-recently shattered.

But it’s been repaired by my own hard work and Dylan’s intensive care.

“Are you having fun?” I ask him, thinking that I know the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

He nods, his smile easier than I’ve ever seen it. “More than I would’ve thought.”

“It’s a pretty great party, right? Ami has been obsessively planning it for weeks.”

He stops us on the dance floor, moving us out of the way so people can pass by as they continue their path around the wood floor.

“Your friends are lovely, this place is amazing, but the only reason I’m having fun is because of you, Darling.”

Darling. My heart flutters.

He makes me beautiful. He makes me feel powerful. He makes me feel loved. He makes me feel like… his.

And I love it and him.

“Can we go home now? I’m ready to do a bit of celebrating of our own,” I purr, letting the need I feel for him weave through the words.

“What did you have in mind?” he teases, his own desire becoming evident between us.

I glance down and then drag my gaze back to his eyes. “I was thinking I’d start by kissing and licking something or another…”

“Be careful or we won’t make it home.” His voice is nothing more than a rumble.

A deliciously filthy thought pops to my mind, and I smile to myself. “You want me to be careful? Make me,” I taunt, knowing my eyes are flashing with heat and happiness. I whirl in place to give him my back. “I’m going to go find Ami and tell her goodbye.”

I feel like I got one over on him and am walking away the clear winner when I feel a short slap on my ass. I jerk my head, looking over my shoulder in shock to find Dylan staring at me. His face is charming, his handsome eyes narrowed with an arched brow. He’s in boss mode, and I can’t help the blush that heats my cheeks. “Make it quick, Miss Hill.”

I trap my bottom lip between my lips to keep my smile from growing too wide and nod before answering, “Yes, Sir.”

I’d love to say I came back with something witty or sexy. Instead, I virtually hop to do what he’s commanded, nearly scurrying away to find my friend so I can enjoy the night with Dylan.