Page 23 of All Hale the Queen

“Lots of things. We offer free legal services and counseling. There are several clothing stores we partner with to provide free clothing for interviews or work, as well as a daycare center that offers quality, low-cost childcare. The foundation also raises money to help the women start their own businesses. That way they can be dependent only on themselves.”

“That has to be so empowering, to take charge of their own lives like that.”

I squeeze his hand. “It is. We also have our own militia.”

Antonio almost chokes on his tongue. “Militia?”

Laughing at his response, I explain. “It’s just a little inside joke. The most dangerous time for a woman in an abusive relationship is when she’s trying to leave, so a local motorcycle club offered their services. When the woman is ready to go, a bunch of burly men in leather show up and escort her safely out of the house and to wherever she’s headed, whether it be ahotel, a shelter, or someone else’s home. Then they stand guard outside for the first few nights, sometimes longer, depending on the situation.” I smile. “They may look a little rough around the edges, but they’re a bunch of softies. They call themselves the Asshole Militia.”

The car slows, and Antonio turns into the hotel parking lot and beneath the portico, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light of the car. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Ophelia.”

Warmth seeps into my cheeks. “I’m lucky to have the means to help, and my staff is fantastic. I couldn’t do any of it without them.”

Antonio leans toward me, but before he can kiss me, my door swings open and we jerk apart. The valet recognizes me and offers his hand to help me out of the vehicle. “Ms. Hale, so lovely to see you.”

“You too, Derek,” I say as Antonio rounds the car. They do the whole key and ticket exchange thing, and a minute later, my arm is tucked in Antonio’s elbow as we enter the lobby and head down the corridor to the ballroom.

He tilts his head down toward me, keeping his voice low. “I don’t think I told you how absolutely stunning you are tonight.”

I look up at him, and something in my chest tightens. “And you are devastating, Mr. Walsh.”

Javier, one of the bikers from the Asshole Militia stands at the door, checking tickets. I marvel at the difference in his appearance. Instead of leather, he’s wearing a charcoal suit and tie.

“Javier, you look very nice,” I tell the young man.

He grins and tugs at his tie. “Thank you, Ms. Ophelia. I clean up pretty good, huh?”

“That you do. Is everything going smoothly?”

“No problems, ma’am,” he replies respectfully. Javier is in his early twenties, so he’s new to the organization, but he was the first one to raise his hand when I’d asked the group for volunteers for tonight. “Sarah came by to check on me a few minutes ago.”

“Sarah is the event coordinator,” I explain to Antonio as we walk through the door. “She was one of the women we helped about eight years ago, and she now owns a successful event planning company. She volunteered her time to handle everything for the night so my team and I could have time to go home and get ready for the evening after we got everything set up this afternoon. Plus, after months of planning, it will be nice to be able to actually sit and enjoy the meal without running around like a mad woman.”

Antonio’s eyes sweep the room. “Everything looks beautiful.”

I look around with pride. “I think so too. Since this is for charity, I find it wasteful to spend thousands and thousands of dollars on floral arrangements and decorations, so most of what you see here has been repurposed. When we do need to purchase something, we try to buy them from the businesses of women who have been helped by Beverly’s Hope.”

He pats my hand. “So you just keep on supporting them even after they’re on their feet.”

“It’s important to me.”

We’re among the first to arrive, and after checking in with Sarah and the catering staff, I return to find my date talking with Remi and Serena. We exchange pleasantries, and I stand beside Antonio without actually touching him. It feels unnatural because when we’re at my house, it’s a rare moment when we’re not touching in some way, but I feel like if I looped my arm through his or even brushed against his arm, my physical attraction would be broadcast all over my face like a projection screen.

Hey, everyone. I’ve been doing the bad and dirty with Antonio, and guess what? I’m going to do it again when he takes me home. Probably multiple times.

No, it’s best to keep my distance.

Helix and Nicolette arrive next, and we all make a fuss over my daughter-in-law’s small baby bump, which has only recently become noticeable. As more guests arrive, the room begins to fill with chatter and laughter.

When I hear excitement gather around the entrance, we turn as a group to see Phoenix entering with his football star wife on his arm. It takes them a moment to work their way to where we’re standing because everyone in the room wants to speak to Jordie McNamara-Hale. She’s a tight end for Houston’s WNFL team, and the Dragons are undefeated so far in their young season.

Phoenix, ever the jokester, straightens his bowtie dramatically when they reach us. “God, my fans are rabid. It’s exhausting.”

His twin cuffs him on the back of his head. “No one wants to see you, dimwit.” He gives Jordie, a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, sis. Great game last week.”

Her turquoise eyes sparkle with excitement. “Thank you. I think we have a good shot this year.”

“Of course you do,” I say, giving my girl a hug. “And you look fantastic.”