The Man Who Has No Love - Victoria Quinn Page 0,38

digging my own grave, bringing me closer to death.

He didn’t try again, and this time, his eyes narrowed farther—like he didn’t recognize me. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.” He was confused, completely oblivious to the situation, and it wasn’t his fault. He was totally innocent, probably having no idea what the problem was because he didn’t see her that way.

But I was still upset. I couldn’t shake it. I was around billionaires and celebrities all the time, and I was never intimidated—not once. But now, I was an emotional wreck. I was so upset, I wanted to cry…which was ridiculous.

Dr. Hawthorne returned to the table, another glass of wine in her hand. “I feel like all I ever talk about is work, but it’s nice to be surrounded by the brightest minds in the field. It’s really an honor. But what do you do for fun?”

Deacon looked at her, stared at her for several heartbeats, not saying anything.

She was patient, like his prolonged silence was normal, like she understood it as well as I did.

Then he turned back to me and did the same thing, staring at me for several seconds, like he was piecing the puzzle together. Significance moved in his gaze, almost an audible click, like the last twist of a Rubik’s Cube that finally completed the puzzle. He turned back to her. “I have a cabin in Connecticut. I spend a lot of time there with my son…and my girlfriend.”

I stilled at his words, touched that he could figure out my feelings without having to ask, and once he did, he did something about it. He didn’t turn to me and indicate I was the woman he referred to because I didn’t want to put that information out to the public, but he still acknowledged I existed…as a fictitious person.

“Oh,” she responded, genuinely surprised, noticeably disappointed. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend…”

“Yes,” Deacon answered. “And I’m in love with her.”

Deacon didn’t say a word to me for the rest of the evening.

Inside of me, a volcano of emotions had erupted, a mixture of embarrassment, relief, and…the greatest happiness I’d ever felt in my entire life. It made my eyes wet, but I had to force the emotion back, to pretend what he said meant nothing to me…that it didn’t mean the world to me.

I kept replaying the words in my head, and they sounded more beautiful every time.

It made my heart explode.

We were among the last few people to leave because Deacon continued to talk to people, thanking them for bidding on the auction, and wishing them a good night. Dr. Hawthorne didn’t stick around much longer after Deacon confessed his feelings.

So, my suspicion about her had been right.

After he’d finished his final conversation with his colleague, he stood alone with me, standing in the ballroom that didn’t look as beautiful as it had when the night started. The tables were full of empty glass and plates, and glitter and napkins were on the floor. A lot of centerpieces were missing because people took them home so they wouldn’t end up in the trash.

No one else was around, but Deacon stood there with his hands in his pockets, as if I weren’t there at all.

I knew he was upset with me. I could feel it. “Deacon—”

“You are the one who wanted me to lie.” He turned to me, his dark eyes hostile like simmering coals. “You are the one who wanted me to introduce you as my assistant. If it were up to me, I would grab your fucking ass in front of these people and not give a shit. I would tell them about our trips to the lake, the way you love my son, the shit we do together.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he was just as loud when he kept his voice quiet. “That was not how I wanted to tell you how I felt, Cleo.”

I gripped my clutch, my eyes slightly wet, not from his anger, but because he really did feel that way. “How long have you felt that way?”

His eyes were still cold. “I don’t fucking know. Since tonight. Since the night I went to your apartment and asked you to be with me. Since the moment you brought Derek to me. Since the moment my son told you he loved you. I don’t have a romantic answer, like there was some specific thing you did or said or some grand moment. I just do…and I know