“You do? Wow. That’s… I bet they were expensive.”
More laughter and some cackles. “Indeed. They’re very expensive,” she looks at Brodie with an arched brow. “Especially this one.” She pats his arm. “He cost me an arm and a leg.”
I blink, confused. “Oh.” I shrug. “He must be good.”
“I am,” Brodie growls.
“Well, that’s neat. I should come to one of your matches sometime.”
“Matches?” he chuckles. “You should absolutely come to agame. Maybe Pamela could invite you?”
“Of course, dear. I’d love to. I’ll give Gabriel a call and…”
“Not Gabriel,” Brodie growls again. “Just her.”
My head hurts from bouncing back and forth between the two of them. I’d love to ask questions, but I’m pulled from the conversation, literally, when Gabriel tugs on my elbow. “We need to sit down, sweetheart. Dinner is going to be served soon.”
“Right. Well, it was nice seeing you all again.”
I hear a series of ‘you too’s’ and ‘goodbye’s’ as I step away. I reach out and pat Brodie’s arm. “Nice talking to you, Brodie. Thank you for the drink.”
Brodie’s face is hard and angry, but he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Gabriel who ignores him. Taking my hand in his, Gabriel leads me back through the ballroom. It’s easier to navigate this time since most of the group is now seated at their respective tables. At our seat, Gabriel holds my chair out. “I don’t like you talking to that asshole.” He says into my left ear.
“He’s nice.”
“Nice, my ass. He wants in your garters.”
“He doesn’t know about my garters. How could he want to get in them.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“Speaking of getting into someone’s pants. I ran into Christine.”
Gabriel pauses right as he’s about to sit in his chair. “Here?”
“Yes. In the ladies room.”
“You two talked?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. She spoke, I listened.”
“And?”
“And she says she’s got proof you two slept together.”
“What!” he yells drawing unwanted attention to our table.
“She said you had a heart-shaped mole on your ass cheek and a scar on your hip.”
“How could she…?”
I shrug. “That’s a good question.” I sip my water and look out into the ballroom. At the table directly in front of us, I see Brodie seated with Pamela, her husband, and a few other couples. He’s staring daggers at Gabriel but when his eyes meet mine, he smiles. I smile back.
Gabriel mumbles, “Damn, this is going to be a long fucking night.”
Heck, it already is a long effing night. I feel like I’ve been here three hours and it’s only been one. “Yes, indeedy. It sure is.” I sip my water attempting to think of a subject change. “Hey, did you know Pamela owned the Chicago Bears?”
