ridiculous?” he asked, knowing full well she might haul off and smack him at any moment. After all, he’d forced her into this car with him. He could say this was a work-related expense until he was blue in the face, but that didn’t make it actually true.
“This. You. It’s the middle of the afternoon. On a Wednesday, for God’s sake. We have things to do. I should know—I keep your schedule.”
“I hardly think...” He checked his watch. “I hardly think 4:15 on a Wednesday counts as the middle of the afternoon.”
She turned the meanest look onto him that he’d ever seen contort her pretty face. “You have a meeting with Sue Colman this afternoon—your weekly HR meeting. I have to help Matthew with the gala.”
Chadwick got his phone and tapped the screen. “Hello, Sue? Chadwick. We’re going to have to reschedule our meeting this afternoon.”
Serena gave him a look that was probably supposed to strike fear in his heart, but which only made him want to laugh. Canceling standing meetings on a whim—just because he felt like it?
If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was having fun.
“Did the board meeting run long?” Sue asked.
“Yes, exactly.” A perfect excuse. Except for the fact that someone might have seen them return to the brewery—and then leave immediately.
“It can wait. I’ll see you next week.”
“Thanks.” He ended the call and tapped on the screen a few more times. “Matthew?”
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, but Serena and I got hung up at the board meeting. Can you do without her for the afternoon?”
There was silence on the other end—a silence that made him shift uncomfortably.
“I suppose I could make do without Ms. Chase,” Matthew replied, his tone heavy with sarcasm. “Can you?”
If I thought you were anything like our father, Matthew had said the day before, I’d assume you were working on wife number two.
Well, he wasn’t, okay? Chadwick was not Hardwick. If he were, he’d have Serena flat on her back, her prim suit gone as he feasted on her luscious body in the backseat of this car.
Was he doing that? No. Had he ever done that? No. He was a complete gentleman at all times. Hardwick would have made a new dress the reward for a quick screw. Not Chadwick. Just seeing her look glamorous was its own reward.
Or so he kept telling himself.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He hung up before Matthew could get in another barb. “There,” he said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Schedule’s clear. We have the rest of the afternoon, all forty-five minutes of it.”
She glared at him, but didn’t say anything.
It only took another fifteen minutes to make it to the shopping center. Mario was waiting by the curb for them. The car had barely come to a complete stop when he had the back door open. “Mr. Beaumont! What a joy to see you again. I was just telling your brother Phillip that it’s been too long since I’ve had the pleasure of your company.”
“Mario,” Chadwick said, trying not to roll his eyes at the slight man. Mario had what some might call a flamboyant way about him, what with his cutting-edge suit, faux-hawk hair and—yes—eyeliner. But he also had an eagle eye for fashion—something Chadwick didn’t have the time or inclination for. Much easier to let Mario put together outfits for him.
And now, for Serena. He turned and held a hand out to her. When she hesitated, he couldn’t help himself. He notched an eyebrow in challenge.
That did it. She offered her hand, but she did not wrap her fingers around his.
Fine. Be like that, he thought. “Mario, may I introduce Ms. Serena Chase?”
“Such a delight!” Mario swept into a dramatic bow—but then, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t dramatic. “An honor to make your acquaintance, Ms. Chase. Please, come inside.”
Mario held the doors for them. It was only when they’d passed the threshold that Serena’s hand tightened around Chadwick’s. He looked at her and was surprised to see something close to horror on her face. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she answered, too quickly.
“But?”
“I’ve just...never been in this particular store before. It’s...” She stared at the store. “It’s different than where I normally shop.”
“Ah,” he said, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. What if she hadn’t been refusing his offer due to stubborn pride? What if there was another reason?
Mario swept around them and clapped his hands in what could only be described as glee. “Please, tell me how I can assist you today.” His gaze darted to where Chadwick still had a hold of Serena’s hands, but he didn’t say anything else. He was far too polite to be snide.
Chadwick turned to Serena. “We have an event on Saturday and Ms. Chase needs a gown.”
Mario nodded. “The charity gala at the Art Museum, of course. A statement piece or one of refined elegance? She could easily pull off either with her shape.”
Serena’s fingers clamped down on Chadwick’s, and then she pulled her hand away entirely. Perhaps Mario’s extensive knowledge of the social circuit was a surprise to her. Or perhaps it was being referred to in the third person by two men standing right in front of her. Surely it wasn’t the compliment.
“Elegant,” she said.
“Fitting,” Mario agreed. “This way, please.”
He led them up the escalator, making small talk about the newest lines and how he had a spotted a suit that would be perfect for Chadwick just the other day. “Not today,” Chadwick said. “We just need a gown.”
“And accessories, of course,” Mario said.
“Of course.” When Chadwick agreed, Serena shot him a stunned look. He could almost hear her thinking that he’d said nothing about accessories. He hadn’t, but that was part of the deal.
“This way, please.” Mario guided them back to a private fitting area, with a dressing room off to the side, a seating area, and a dais surrounded by mirrors. “Champagne?” he offered.
“Yes.”
“No.” Serena’s command was sudden and forceful. At first Chadwick thought she was being obstinate again, but then he saw the high blush that raced across her cheeks. She dropped her gaze and a hand fluttered over her stomach, as if she were nervous.
“Ah.” Mario stepped back and cast his critical eye over her again. “My apologies, Ms. Chase. I did not realize you were expecting. I shall bring you a fruit spritzer—non-alcoholic, of course.” He turned to Chadwick. “Congratulations, Mr. Beaumont.”
Wait—what?
