Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
“Where are you going to go?” he asked me, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I stay right here,” I explained, “behind her. There’ll be more folks to the right of her in a minute, like, I dunno, the mayor maybe?”
Clearly, Hannah had not made this event all that clear to Dr. Butler. I may have been ambushed, but he was thrown well into the deep end.
“I might need that drink,” he told me.
“I would expect so,” I agreed, smiling at him.
“I’ll come back.”
“There’ll be too many folks walking in,” I assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Just go in there, and Hannah will find you once the bulk of these people are inside.”
The woman, who reminded him that her name was Greta, took Dr. Butler’s arm and led him away. I greeted my boss and the other four men on duty with him, and then settled in to stand behind Hannah. It was grueling, but I wasn’t wearing heels, so it wasn’t fair to complain.
It turned out that beside Hannah was Aaron’s brother, Max, and his sister-in-law, Astrid, and beside them was the director of the Illinois Department of Public Health and her husband. It took a full ice age for people to funnel through, because meeting Aaron Sutter was a big-ass deal and no one wanted to miss the opportunity.
Hannah’s real uncle, Dane Harcourt, her father’s brother, and his wife, her aunt Aja, were there, and she hugged and kissed them both. It was nice that Mr. Harcourt reached around his niece and shook my hand, as did his wife. I knew, like Hannah’s parents, that they appreciated me being there watching out for her.
Once most everyone was inside, mingling, drinking, and schmoozing, Aaron took Duncan’s arm and Hannah’s hand and the three of them walked in ahead of the others, breezing by the auction items that included everything from season Blackhawks tickets to pieces of art to a brand-new Bugatti Divo. Hannah had told me that the company donated the latter as a favor to Mr. Sutter, but she said it made sense since he’d already bought one. I didn’t really get the whole sports car thing, but that was because I preferred something that could hold all the guys in my unit at once. The only drawback was, like my buddy Orson, who owned a big-ass pickup, whenever somebody moved, we were first on the list to call.
I saw the table where Dr. Butler was seated right away. It was empty but for him until Dane and Aja joined him. He stood to meet them and looked awkward as hell doing it, and I had to wonder how much of an introvert the man truly was. The way he tugged at the collar of his tux, rolled his shoulders, and shifted from one foot to the other made me uncomfortable just watching. It was strange, but I felt compelled to go over there and stand close to him and offer support, which made no sense at all. He was older than me, much more cultured and refined, a doctor for heaven’s sake, but still… it seemed as if a face he knew, not even a particularly friendly one, might be what he needed.
Normally, I stood somewhere out of the way once Hannah and I were inside. I stayed, as did Miguel, Mr. Sutter’s bodyguard, and the other four, at a distance. But this time, since there were other high-profile people with their own private security and every entrance and exit had a staff member there to open or close the door behind a guest, I went to check on the doctor.
Other people were sitting at the table now, talking to the Harcourts, and as soon as I got close, Dr. Butler turned and gave me a wan smile.
Taking careful hold of his bicep, my grip light but firm, I walked him a few feet away and then rounded on him. “What’s wrong?”
He took a breath. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re so not fine,” I assured him, noting that his coloring, which had been light tan, was now definitely not. “Is it the size of the crowd?”
“No, I—I… I used to be really good at all this, but… things changed.”
I nodded. “This is about the patient of yours who attacked you.”
He squinted. “How did you know about that?”
“Hannah told me,” I answered, putting a hand on his shoulder as I had earlier. “She said you were assaulted a few years back, which is why you have dogs now.”
“Yes, but you must understand that I’m not standing here thinking I’m going to be attacked by someone,” he explained crisply. “That’s not rational.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed, squeezing tight and then letting go, my hand moving to the side of his neck, feeling how cold his skin was. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not having a slight panic attack at the moment.”