which I’d guess to be mid to late fifties. I can only hope to have such a youthful face at her age. I want to say her smooth skin is compliments to Botox, but she doesn’t have the overly-rigid face most Botox lovers do, so perhaps it’s more good genes than a skilled dermatologist.
“Julian said you moved to New York to accept a position at the DA’s Office. How are you finding it?” Katarina asks, appearing genuinely interested in my reply.
I pull a face. “It’s good. Challenging but good.” It usually takes me knowing someone for a good three to four months before I open up to them, but Katarina has the type of aura you can’t help but be honest with her. She reminds me a lot of my mother. “There are more cases here than in the office I interned at in LA, but nowhere near as many staff, so it’s taking me a little bit to adjust to the workload. I’ll get there… eventually.”
Although I’m still treated as an intern by my colleagues, I’m quickly clueing in on how diverse each office is. Such as, it’s not every day you’ll be in the same room as a governor, a district attorney, three Federal Court judges, and a mafia kingpin. The latter has only just arrived, but he enters the room like a god, turning more than a few heads. Even I watch Henry Gottle, Sr. from afar, speechless and in awe. There’s a natural arrogance to him that you can’t help but be sucked in to.
Not sexually. Don’t be uncultured, Henry is around the age of my father. It’s the fact he presents as an extremely dark and dangerous man, but when you truly look at him, you get the sense he has a hidden nurturing side as well. He conceals it well with deadly blue eyes and a fiercely cut suit, but it’s still there hiding in the dimples of his concealed smirk.
His hair is darker than a night’s sky, and his skin looks like he spends his days lazing at the beach instead of amassing a vast amount of wealth from unscrupulous business adventures. His persona, even from a distance, could be described as mulish.
That is until his eyes swing my way.
I take a step back, surprised by the ownership in his heavy-hooded gaze. Unlike a handful of the women in the rape support group I commenced attending in the months following my confession to Julian, my assault didn’t claim my innocence. If anything, it made me more naïve. But even someone with the purity of a saint couldn’t miss the possessiveness in Henry’s eyes as he makes his way across the room.
Even with the room filled with influential people, the crowd creates a pathway for him, knowing no amount of political backing will alter the facts. This state isn’t run by men like Mr. McGee or Leo. It’s owned by Henry.
I’m tempted to slap myself up the side of my head when the reasoning for Henry’s across-the-room stare becomes apparent. He isn’t parting the crowd like they’re the Red Sea because he thinks I’m the most beautiful woman in the room, his eyes aren’t even on me. They’re on Katarina, who looks exactly how a woman should look when the man of her dreams spots her from across the room.
My brows stitch when Katarina presses a hurried kiss to Julian’s cheek before she makes an excuse to leave. She’s so flustered, nothing she says makes any sense, and we won’t mention her unsteady footing as she darts for the exit, or you’ll believe she’s been downing as many cocktails as me.
I’m not drinking because I am as out of my league as Julian is in it. It’s wondering if any other McGees would be at tonight’s festivities. I’ve yet to spot Brandon in any of Mr. McGee’s campaign photographs, but Phoenix and Madden occasionally pop up—Madden even more so the past six months since he announced he’s running for office at the next election. He’s starting at the Senate like his father did.
Thankfully, it appears as if Mr. McGee went stag tonight—if you exclude the three bug-eyed women who’ve been buzzing around him all evening. He’s old enough to be their father, but they still fawn over him like he’s a rock star and they’re thirsty groupies.
It makes me sick.
I’m pulled from my thoughts for the second time tonight when my name is called from a voice I’ve never heard before. When I twist