“Charles and Harrison have been trying to broker a deal for almost a year now. It’s been… difficult.”
And I just insulted Charles.
There was a stab of regret before I reminded myself that proving I didn’t belong was the point of this. And, yes, thatHarrison would still be insanely wealthy even if the deal did fall through.
“I don’t care what kind of deal they have going on; he shouldn’t have said anything about your wife.”
“I hate to admit it, but it’s not uncommon,” Mitch told me as we moved closer to the bar. “If you haven’t noticed, there are very specific beauty standards for women around here.”
He wasn’t wrong. Most of the women at the event weren’t only slim but almost alarmingly so.
“But me? I like my lady with all her curves. Our babies made those curves. They’re special.”
“Yes,” I agreed, giving him a genuine smile, “they are. I think you might be something special too,” I added as I accepted a glass of champagne from him.
Despite myself, I glanced back over my shoulder to look at Harrison and Charles.
Both had tense body language.
Charles had his pointer finger out, stabbing it at Harrison several times as he seemed to raise his voice.
Harrison handled it well, body lax, not rising to the bait.
But then I saw Charles turn toward me. And because I was watching him, I saw the words form on his lips.
That bitch.
Yeah, Harrison didn’t keep his cool after that.
He took a threatening step forward, towering over the older man, his jaw so tight that I could see a muscle ticking there from all the way across the room.
“There she is!” Mitch said, stealing my focus away from Harrison.
Then there was Marg, in all of her bouncy, sweet, motherly charm.
And Marg?
Marg knew everyone.
And thought I also needed to know everyone. Or, at least, know everything there was to know about everyone.
I lost track of time.
And champagne.
And names.
But it was hard not to enjoy Marg’s enthusiasm. And, well, the ambiance of the place. Even if I felt like an outsider the whole time.
“Oh, you thinkyoufeel like an outsider,” Marg said when I admitted that to her. She gave my arm a pat. “Try being someone who enjoys carbs.”
“I love carbs,” I told her.
“Oh, your handsome fella is making his way over here quick, fast, and in a hurry,” Marg said.
I tensed but tried to school my face into a look of innocence as we both turned toward Harrison.
“Marg, nice to see you again,” he said, giving the woman a warm smile. All traces of the anger that had just been on his face had disappeared.
