“A barbecue?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what he’s calling it. It’s a damned lie, though. I’m sure it’s going to be a fancy dinner party just with ribs as a decoration or something like that, but you should still come.”
I almost asked if Charlotte was going to be there, but I stopped myself just in the nick of time and cleared my throat. “Sure. It’ll be good to see Nate and the others again. It feels like it’s been forever.”
“That’s because it has been.” Alex sighed. “Theo’s twenty-six now and I think he was a teenager when you last saw him. To be honest, I preferred him back then. Both he and Zach seem to think now that they’ve hit the other side of twenty-five, they know things.”
I chuckled. “They’re Westwoods. They were always going to grow into their opinions.”
He groaned. “Fuck, if only that’s all it was. I could handle their opinions. It’s the thinking they’re right that pisses me off.”
“Suddenly, I’m glad I said yes to this not-a-barbecue.” I laughed. “It’s going to be interesting.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.” His expression darkened, but of course, before I could ask what else was going on, his phone rang and he mouthedseven p.m.Then he was gone, smoothly sliding into the backseat of yet another black SUV while yammering on about using his veto if whoever he was talking to didn’t watch themselves.
I shook my head as I watched him go, wondering how he was going to keep up this pace until he had a son of his own who was old enough to hand things over to. Hell, at this point, I wondered how he was ever going to produce a son when I doubted he had time to eat and sleep, let alone date.
Thankfully, again, it wasn’t my problem. The poor guy was wound tight, though. I hoped he was keeping regular appointments with his cardiologist.
Going about the rest of my day in a decidedly less chaotic manner than my friend, I sat down with my laptop and a cup of coffee and started reading through all the documents Colby had sent over. When it was time for the barbecue, I headed out ofthe city to the Chicago Westwood compound, still trying not to wonder if Charlotte was going to be there.
Naturally, that meant she was the first person I spotted when I walked into the cavernous foyer. She stood at least half a head taller than the next tallest woman in attendance, her dark hair braided down the side of her head like some kind of Disney princess.
Back to being a Westwood, her jeans were nowhere to be seen tonight. Instead, she had on a pale pink dress I was pretty sure was haute couture. Her wrists, neck, and ears sparkled with gold, and sky-high, glittering golden heels were on her feet.
It was a little disappointing, if I was being honest. I’d liked the jeans and messy bun, but God. She could pull off this look just as well.
Unfortunately for me, it also made her look a hell of a lot less like little Charlotte, Alex’s baby sister. Even more unfortunately, she wasn’t alone.
Gregory was with her, leaning in and talking like he was the most interesting man alive. Charlotte stood quietly, smiling politely and nodding every now and then.
Something hot and instinctive climbed up my spine, similar to the feeling I usually only got when someone else went too close to my favorite horse.Possessive. Irrational. Stupid.
So I kept walking and didn’t interrupt, just passing them by and telling myself I was walking this close because it was the most direct route to the bar. That was what civilized people did, arriving at a party.
Except for the fact that my path brought me close enough to her that when I walked by, I heard Gregory’s voice, loud and smug, going on about some award, or accomplishment, or title. Charlotte didn’t say a single word.
I slowed just enough that when she glanced up, our eyes met and something flickered in hers. Something vaguely wild anddesperate, and seeing it there hit me square in the chest, but I still didn’t stop, turning the corner and forcing myself out of view instead.
A drink. That’s what I need. A stiff one.
I had a bad feeling that tonight was going to be a long damn evening. Douglas was holding court at the bar with a bunch of his friends, and though I’d planned on going to find Alex and his brothers, their Dad, like Harlan, seemed to have a sixth sense for when someone was trying to avoid polite society.
He pulled me into their conversation effortlessly, introducing me to his circle of friends, all older men with the same brand of cash-backed confidence and cigar smoke clinging to them. “Trent, join us. Come and meet everybody. Gentlemen, this is Trent Shepard. Troy’s son, out of Dallas. He’s going into a business venture with Alex.”
As I shook each of their hands, they all laughed and chatted with me like nothing in the world had ever truly inconvenienced them. I respected Douglas. I always had, but the conversation quickly made my stomach twist.
“As I was saying,” Douglas continued, clearly picking up where he’d left off before he spotted me now that the formalities of me joining them were done. “Van Allen and I are in agreement. Charlotte and Gregory are the perfect match. We hope to be announcing their engagement very soon.”
Across the bar, Nate went stiff as a fence post, his jaw suddenly locked. He looked like someone had swapped his drink with vinegar. The second we made eye contact, he tipped his head toward the hallway. A silent request. When he slipped out from behind the bar, I followed under the pretext of going to find a bathroom.
Unlike the San Francisco Westwoods, not all of the Chicago cousins were dark-haired. Some of them, like Nate, had inherited their mother’s lighter features. Sometimes, frombehind, I could almost have mistaken Nate for Jameson if it hadn’t been for his dark blond hair.
Still, the similarities in their features, their height, eyes, and the sharp jaws, had always made me feel as familiar with this side of the family as the other. Besides, Alex had gone to school with Jamie and me. Even though I’d befriended Jameson first, I’d been friends with Alex for almost as long.
I’d known Nate, for example, since he’d been a gangly preteen. Which was why I didn’t hesitate when I caught up with him in the upstairs hallway.
“Look, I get the whole Westwood marriage tradition. Legacy. Whatever you want to call it, but Charlotte and Gregory only just met, right? Is your dad serious about announcing anengagementsoon?”
