“I couldn’t handle ESPN another moment,” I said, opening my arms to her.
Gretchen’s nose twitched, her sixth sense probably alerting her ESPN was code for Bill. Instead of hugging me, she took my forearms and spread them as her jaw dropped. “Olivia Germaine,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “Look at you.”
I shimmied in a short, glittering, gold-sequined dress that showed off one bare shoulder. “Like it?”
“Like it?” Ava asked from her seat. “You look like a fucking movie star.”
“Gretchendidsay this was the social event of the season and that the press would be here,” Lucy said, who’d added a statement necklace to a modest black dress. Despite her career as a personal stylist, Lucy had always had a very predictable, simple look. Her motto—“Classic never goes out of style”—suited her perfectly.
Lucy and I took our seats and before long, we were ordering a second bottle of red along with appetizers.
“I can’t wait to see what happens when you actuallysleepwith Jeff,” Bethany said, finishing off her wine.
“Is Jeff the chef?” Lucy asked, giggling at her rhyme.
Gretchen nodded. “He’s been asking me out, but I’m not sure I want to add another guy into the rotation.”
“God, I wish I had your stamina,” Ava said. “I feel like I’m working overtime just to secure a boyfriend.”
“You say that like he’s a bank loan,” Bethany said.
“I wish he was,” Ava said. “Finding a husband would be a hell of a lot easier if I just had to meet a list of requirements to apply.”
“A husband?” I asked.
Ava nodded. “I want to be a young mom, but also spend quality time with my husband before we have kids. That means I should be pregnant before thirty, so I need to get engaged, like, next year.”
Ah, single life. It’d been a while since I’d been in it. I blew out a sigh. “The more you stress about it, the harder it is.”
“Easy for you to say.” Ava puckered her lips into a pout. “You’re already married.”
I shrugged. “Just saying, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Some days I wish I’d enjoyed my freedom a little longer.”
Ava gasped. “Don’t say that. Being single in this city isawful.”
“Um, Chicago is thebestplace to be single,” Gretchen countered. “Any competition we might have is in New York and Los Angeles trying to get famous. But the men here, they’re . . .”
The table went quiet just as my ears tuned to a man’s voice deep enough to cut through the hum of the crowd.
I knew that voice, and I knew the expression on Gretchen’s face.
“They’rethat.” Gretchen finished her sentence with a nod across the room, and everyone but me turned to follow her gaze. “You can’t tell me the single life sucks when there’s a bachelor like that on the loose.”
I shut my eyes and inhaled as my skin tingled. My nipples hardened as if a cold breeze had passed through the dining room, yet the wine had warmed me to my core. Or maybe it was his eyes on me. How David Dylan could have such an effect on me without a word, or even a glance, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Whoisthat?” Ava asked, sitting up straighter in her seat. “More importantly,he’sa bachelor?”
Lucy, already tipsy, broke into a smile and waved a little too hard, nearly toppling out of her chair. “David,” she called. “David! Over here.”
All the women’s eyes stayed fixed behind me, their heads tilting back until David spoke from next to me. “Well, if it isn’t my lucky night.”
I turned. The sight of him was no less devastating than any time he and I had come face to face. If possible, I might’ve been even more stunned by his beauty in this unexpected setting. His eyes met mine, especially gold against his jet-black hair and in the warm light of the restaurant. “Hello, Olivia,” he said.
A second later, a woman slipped her arm into his pea coat, which hung open over a black sweater that looked as if it were made of the softest cashmere in the world. She hugged his waist too intimately for a friend or family member, stunning me into silence and stealing any response I might’ve had to his very personal greeting.
It took me a second before I recognized her from pictures I’d seen online while researching David. She came up to his chin in sky-high heels that lengthened already long legs. Caramel-colored hair fell in waves over her bronzed shoulders, and her skin-tight red dress showed off an athletic figure with a great ass.
I dug my nails into the seat cushion. She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, her rich, dark complexion melding flawlessly with David’s olive skin. They were the epitome of a glamorous couple.
