Her teeth clenched in what she hoped passed as a smile. Super loved being talked over like this. “It’s been great to see people appreciating it.”
“Huh.” Jason nodded as a pretty woman passed by. “Hey, Lucinda.”
The woman paused, eyed them, then gave a round of air-kisses, trotting off before EJ could be introduced. Okay, then.
“So, uh, Emma.” Neil passed her a plate of caviar-crusted items, which she refused. “Where are you from?”
“I live in Sydney,” she said firmly. No way did she want anyone knowing about her roots.
“What part?” he asked, around a mouthful of expensive fish.
She pointed to the opposite shoreline, garnering their whistles, and pivoted slightly on her heel. It was nice to feel like she might be accepted a little, but it wasn’t exactly helping her any. Yet. “How about you, Neil?”
“I’m originally from a little town about halfway between Sydney and Canberra. It’s super tiny, called Wooten Vale.”
She blinked and swerved back to him. No way. “Really?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
She had to be careful how she answered. Neil was nice but not her cup of tea. And she didn’t want someone who clearly didn’tmind spilling the tea spilling her particular flavour. “I have an employee who hails from there.”
“Really? What’s her name? Or his name. Maybe I know them.”
“Harriet Smart.”
“Smart?” His head tilted, his forehead puckering. “I really don’t think—wait. Not the Smarts who live on the hill near Nicole and Keith?”
“Um, I couldn’t say.”
“Huh. Well, that’s cool. Small world, right?”
“Very small,” she agreed.
For some reason that earned her a bray of laughter, which drew Eric’s attention again. He sent that same, slightly mocking look, which she countered with an expression she hoped conveyed disinterest.
Then, just when Neil seemed determined to hold court for hours longer, Eric slipped free of his bevy of admirers, capturing her gaze again. Then he tilted his head.
Huh? She angled so she didn’t have to see him, and continued the small talk, trying to pretend she knew who these people were talking about. She sipped her champagne, more because she wanted something to do than because she was thirsty, but it didn’t taste as nice as what she’d had at the Opera House, so she didn’t have any more.
“Do you not like champagne?”
She spun to face the owner of the voice, spilling some of her drink as she did so. Darn.
“Hi, Eric!” Neil was like an eager puppy dog, grateful for any crumb of attention Eric might fling his way. “Hey, have you two met? I don’t suppose you would have.”
“Actually—”
“Eric, this is Emma Bennett,” Neil continued, talking over the top of her as seemed to be his usual. “Emma, this is Eric Churchill.”
Eric nodded, but his laser focus was trained on EJ, sending a ripple down her spine.
“Does that mean you didn’t enjoy the champagne the other weekend?” Eric asked.
Maybe she needed some more, because right now her mouth was dry and she was struggling to think. Telling him she had enjoyed it felt fraught with potential problems.
“Champagne?” Neil’s head swivelled between them. “So you have met?”
“Yes.” A hint of a smile played around Eric’s mouth as his eyebrow arched, and suddenly she could understand what all the fuss was about. She’d heard of animal magnetism, had even researched it as part of her psychological studies, but had never met anyone with the sheer power to draw someone in just by looking at them. Maybe it was an inherited quality, seeing as so many people seemed willing to trust his father with millions of dollars. Or maybe it was due to his smooth-as-silk low voice, like he’d been trained by a professional so that every word seemed to hold significance. He probably had, she decided. A professional elocutionist. Or a newsreader.
