He followed my gaze back to the guys. “One’s a gallery investor. The other is something vague involving tech and a family office.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. “So they’re trust fund babies.”
He smiled, those eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced down at me. “You think?”
“There’s no way that any of this art is worth as much as they’re trying to sell it for, which means everyone here is rich enough to pretend it is.”
He considered that, his mossy green eyes flicking to a sculpture that looked suspiciously like a twisted ladder. “That seems like a fair assessment. I was starting to wonder if I just wasn’t young enough to get it.”
I took another sip of my martini. “Well, this is still a far cry from stuffy old-money clubs where wine and scotch are the only things on the menu and gossip from a decade ago is still hot on everyone’s lips.”
“And thank God for that,” he said lightly, suspiciously eyeing my drink. “Can I try that?”
“Have at it.” I handed it over without hesitation. He took a sip, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise.
“That’s a lot better than whatever this is supposed to be,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the bar and then lifting his glass. “Do you want to try it?”
“What did you order?”
“The only thing that had whiskey in it,” he admitted. “It was bluish. That should’ve been my first warning.”
I laughed, watching as he took another sip of my martini and then handed it back. “Yours wins. Hands down. Are you sure you don’t want to try mine?”
“If it’s worse than mine, then no. Thanks, but I’ll leave you to suffer in peace.”
He let out a long sigh, shaking his head like he was disappointed in me before he chuckled and made a show of blocking his nose before he took his next sip. I could feel theweight of eyes occasionally flicking our way, but Alex Westwood didn’t blend in anywhere, no matter how hard he tried.
“Are you okay?” I asked once he’d downed the rest of his cocktail.
He glanced at me, surprised. “Yeah. Why? The drink was bad, but it probably wasn’t poison.”
“Not because of that.” I rolled my eyes at him. “You look like you’re trying to solve a puzzle and it’s not going very well.”
He let out a laugh I saw more than heard. “I think that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually.”
I tilted my head. “And? Is it going as bad as it seems to be?”
“Nah, I don’t hate this,” he said honestly. “It just isn’t familiar to me.”
“In that case, I think we need to make it our mission to find more experiences you’re not familiar with,” I said, only half-joking. “Same for me. We’re already out of our comfort zones, right? We might as well see what else is out there.”
He rocked his head from side to side, flinching when he glanced down at his empty glass. “Deal. As long as you help me navigate the alien cocktail menu.”
I laughed. “It’s not alien.”
“Jane,” he said seriously. “The whiskey wasblue.”
When I laughed again, I realized that we were actually having fun. It felt like we were just a couple. Having a moment.
Obviously, that was when Zara flounced up to us in all her gorgeous glory. She was impossible to miss, her lipstick a bright purple and a dramatic, matching coat slung over her shoulders.
“Jane!” she said brightly. Then her gaze slid to Alex and sharpened with recognition. “Oh. I know you.”
Alex blinked hard. “You do?”
She smiled like she’d just won something. “You’re Nate’s brother. Alex, right?”
His confusion was immediate and genuine. “I, yes. Nate is my brother. Do you know him?”
