Noah’s brow furrowed. “You really think he’d do that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my gaze drifting back to where Drew and Patrick had disappeared into the crowd. “But I can’t take that chance. There are too many kids counting on us.”
“All right, enough doom and gloom,” Noah declared, clapping me on the shoulder. “You know what you need? A drink. And lucky for you, I happen to know where we can find the second-best bartender in Cliffborough.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Second-best?”
Noah grinned. “Well, Drew’s obviously the best, but he’s a bit…occupied at the moment.”
I winced at the reminder but couldn’t help the genuine smile that tugged at my lips. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
“That’s why you love me,” Noah replied cheerfully. “Now come on, let’s drown your sorrows in overpriced champagne. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even catch the eye of some other eligible bachelor and make Drew jealous.”
I rolled my eyes but allowed Noah to steer me toward the bar. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what this situation needs—more complications.”
As we wove through the crowd, I couldn’t shake the weight settling on my chest. But Noah was right. A drink would at least keep me distracted long enough to stop thinking about Drew, or Patrick.
I doubted it would work, but I could try, right?
3
DREW
Itrailed behind Patrick as he weaved through the crowded event room, my heart still racing from standing on that stage. God, I’d hated every second of it. The lights, the stares, the auctioneer’s booming voice. But when West started bidding, something inside me had soared.
Could River be right? Did West see me as more than his foster brother and best friend? Or was I completely off track, and he just felt sorry for me? That thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
As we reached a small table tucked between a couple of indoor trees, the awareness that Dr. Patrick McMartin was the son of our biggest benefactors made me a little nervous.
He waved down a passing server and snagged two flutes of champagne, handing one to me. “I’m Patrick, by the way. Figured we should properly introduce ourselves now that we’re going to spend some time together.”
I clinked my glass against his. “Drew. Nice to meet you, Patrick.”
Patrick tilted his head. “It was touch and go out there with the other bidders. One in particular was hell-bent on separating me from my money.”
My face heated when Patrick referenced West. “I’m sorry…I don’t know what that was about. West and I grew up together. Foster brothers.” I took a long sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat. “I don’t know what he was thinking, bidding so much. But we both appreciate your donation. It’ll benefit a lot of the kids we help through the Foundation.”
“I’m happy to help, although I’m sure I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Patrick said softly.
I leaned back in my chair, knowing that my time with Patrick meant more than just his donation, and smiled. “Tell me about yourself. What made you decide to bid on a stranger tonight?”
Patrick’s eyes darted around nervously before he leaned in, lowering his voice. “I…I have a confession to make. While I have my shit together in my professional life, when it comes to dating…not so much. There’s someone I like. Someone really important to me, and I thought if I could impress him with some killer cocktail skills, maybe he’d finally notice me.”
I chuckled at his earnestness. “So you decided to buy a bartender at a charity auction? That’s pretty creative. I’ll give you that.”
Patrick’s cheeks flushed. “God, it sounds so ridiculous when you say it aloud. I’m sorry, this must be weird for you.”
“Hey, no judgment here,” I said, patting his arm. “We’ve all done crazy things for love. Or lust. Or whatever you want to call it.”
“Really?” Patrick perked up. “You don’t think I’m a total loser?”
I grinned, an idea forming. “Not at all. In fact, I think it’s kind of sweet. And you know what? I’m going to help you wow this crush of yours.”
“You are?” The hope in Patrick’s voice was palpable. He was a good guy.
“Absolutely. Tell me more about your friend.”
“He spent last summer in France on a work placement. When he came back, all he talked about was how sophisticated the French are, the amazing food, the wine…” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. “I’ve been to Europe, and I’ve seen all those things, but…my adoptive parents are the ones with money. I still remember what it was like to not have any before my biological parents died. My brothers were too little to remember. I guess…I still struggle with belonging in my parents’ world.”
