I looked into my nearly empty scotch glass. I was a nervous drinker, and Bill’s e-mail had definitely put me on edge. After a beat, I finished it off and started in on David’s. He’d probably have mingling to do anyway, and I wasn’t sure when he’d get around to finding me.
“Thirsty much?” asked a familiar male voice.
I turned and smiled. “Mr. Brian Ayers.”
My new friend always looked handsome, and tonight was no exception. Brian wore a trim, deep purple velour tuxedo, a silver button-down shirt, and a matching striped bowtie. I couldn’t help but smile at his quirky style. As if it wasn’t Brian enough, he’d topped off his outfit with pristine white tennis shoes.
“How are you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“No date tonight?”
“Nah.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “And why not?”
He shrugged. “Not feeling anyone lately,” he explained. Brian’s blue eyes and long blond hair were even brighter against his tan. It didn’t take a genius to know by his looks or the muscular arms hiding under his blazer that most girls would find him a catch. So why was he still single?
Since Brian and David were friends, I wondered if he knew about us yet. If he did, he didn’t give anything away. As I considered mentioning it, Gretchen and Greg walk into the event, heading to the bar before they even spotted us.
When Gretchen saw me, she practically ran over. “Hel-lo,” she called, then tossed over her shoulder, “Greg, honey. Get me a drink?”
Gretchen sent him off with a kissy sound.
“Nice to have someone to order around, eh?” Brian asked her.
She glanced at Brian, and her face soured. “Oh. Didn’t see you there. Can you excuse us?”
“Certainly,” he said, rolling his eyes once she’d turned her back. The two weren’t particularly friendly—something to do with Brian turning down Gretchen’s advances—but it surprised me that they still weren’t over it.
“How’s it going so far?” Gretchen whispered once she had me alone.
Despite having Bill’s e-mail fresh in my thoughts, I easily refocused on my dreamy day with David. “Sort of amazing,” I gushed with a big smile.
“Youlookfucking amazing. You’reglowingin this dress. Tell me everything.”
“You might flip out,” I warned.
“Tell me.”
“Well,” I said, “after breakfast, David took me shopping. And basically bought me an entire boutique’s worth of stuff.”
“Shutup,” she said, nearly jumping up and down. Her eyes scanned my dress. “Who?”
“Versace,” I said, waving a hand over myself. “But there was Prada, Chloé, McQueen—just come over, and I’ll show you everything.”
She made a noise from the back of her throat and closed one eye as if to brace herself. “Shoes, too?”
“Yep.”
“Please tell me the sex wasn’t as good as you remember so I’m not raging jealous.”
“We haven’t done it yet as a ‘couple.’ He wants to wait until we get back tonight so it’s special or something.”
“Oh, God,” Gretchen said as her eyes rolled up into her head. “He’s perfect.”
“What’s that?” Greg asked, handing her a drink.
“You,” Gretchen said, pecking him on the lips. “You’re perfect, sweetie.”
