“Bianca!” Evie waved. She whispered to Bryson through her smile, “Bianca Taylor. She owns several boutiques on Magazine Street. She also married a man who is the same age as her son, which caused all sorts of drama.”
“Love is love. It knows no age,” Bryson said.
“But it does know a hefty bank balance.”
“Evie, it’s so great to see you,” Bianca greeted.
The tall, slim redhead, who was dressed in an elaborate gown that seemed more suited for those couture runway shows than for this party, gave Evie air kisses on both cheeks, before holding out a hand to Bryson.
“Bianca Taylor. Pleasure to meet you. That tux is fabulous,” she said. “Marks & Spencer, right?”
He hadn’t the faintest idea. His sister-in-law had picked it out a few years ago and he’d been rocking it ever since.
“Of course it’s Marks & Spencer.” She turned to Evie. “I was just talking to your mother about you the other day. You’re friends with the owner of that doggy daycare that’s been all over the news, aren’t you? There was a grand opening for their new place in the Lower Garden District yesterday. My dog has been on the waitlist for months.”
“Actually, the official grand opening hasn’t happened yet. You’re thinking about the canine carnival that was held there. It was a fundraiser for a local animal rescue that I would love to tell you more about.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t need to hear about it,” she said. “But Idoneed Misty in that daycare. If you can put in a good word for me, I would appreciate it so much.”
“I’ll… uh… see what I can do,” Evie said.
“You’re a doll. Amanda!” Bianca shouted past Evie. “Amanda Chapelle is that you?”
And just as quickly as Bianca Taylor had arrived, she was gone.
“I wonder how much she would be willing to pay to get Misty at Barkingham Palace,” Bryson said. “You think Ashanti would mind if we sold access?”
“She would probably be upset that she didn’t come up with the idea first,” Evie said. “I should call…”
Her words trailed off and a look of pure disdain fell over her face.
“What the fuck,” Evie all but growled.
Bryson turned and, for the first time in eight years, laid eyes on his old lab partner.
Cameron Broussard stood just to the right of the five-foot-tall spiraling champagne tower, dressed in a tuxedo that didn’t fit him nearly as well as Bryson’s fitted him. His sister-in-law would get an extra hug the next time he saw her.
“I cannot believe this,” Evie said. “No, actually, I can. I cantotallybelieve she would pull this bullshit.”
“Ev, it’s not a big deal,” Bryson said.
“The hell it isn’t,” she said. “She knows Cameron and I are no longer together.”
“But is it worth making a scene over?” he asked. “Especially if you want to get money for The Sanctuary out of these people?”
Evie blew out a breath. “Fine, Mr. Voice of Reason.” She lifted a glass of champagne from a passing tray and turned to him. “Do you want to know what Ashanti and Ridley told me? They both said they were hoping I would end up with you instead of Cameron back when we were in school.”
“Really?” Bryson’s brows arched. He was surprised by the intensity of the gratitude that came over him. “I’m… flattered.”
Even her friends had had better sense than he’d shown. He would never forgive his own stupidity. His gullibility.
He’d talked himself out of a life with Evie. He’d allowed Cameron to talk him out of a life with her, believed that asshole when he told him that Evie would never be with someone like him.
“I wish I had known I was a choice for you back then, Ev.”
“I wish you had asked instead of making the decision on your own, without bothering to consult me,” she said. She hooked her thumb toward her ex. “Look where it got me. He is such a petty bastard for showing up here.”
“Cameron’s a petty bastard for so many other reasons,” Bryson said. He took her hands in his. “Don’t let him ruin tonight for you. He’s not worth it.”
