“How much did he sell his company for again?”
Oh God. It was a Freddie Wentworth party.
This is fine, she thought as she continued forward. Better than fine. If he was having a party, that meant he was upstairs and there was no chance she would run into him. Yes, there might be some old friends in the crowd, but as the reflection in the elevator so kindly reminded her, she didn’t look exactly like she did back in college. All she had to do was avoid eye contact with anyone and there was a good chance she could grab her food and escape upstairs unnoticed. She was almost there, steps away from the deliveryman and her orange chicken, when a familiar voice rose up nearby.
“Anne?” Then, a moment later, more assuredly, “Anne!”
Anne barely had time to turn around, to register where she knew that voice from, when a woman with hot-pink hair emerged from the crowd.
“Oh my God, it is you!” she squealed. The minute Anne recognized Sophie Wentworth was the moment Freddie’s sister’s arms were around her. The hug was all-encompassing, and Anne’s shock was quickly overshadowed by an aching nostalgia. Oh, she had missed this. How had she forgotten how well the Wentworth family hugged? Full-bodied and unfiltered. It was like each one was the fulfillment of a lifelong wish. Anne hadn’t even realized howmuch she’d missed them until Sophie finally released her. “I can’t believe Freddie didn’t tell me he invited you!”
“Oh, he didn’t—”
“How long has it been? Eight years?” Sophie barreled on, as if she hadn’t expected Anne to answer anyway. “How is that even possible?”
Anne let out a nervous laugh. “I know.”
A loud ding rang through the lobby as the elevator arrived again, and everyone began to move forward.
“I can’t wait to heareverything,” Sophie said, hooking her arm with Anne’s as she ushered them both to the front of the crowd. “How did Freddie keep this a secret?! And here I thought I wasn’t going to know anybody at this thing!”
“Oh, no, I can’t…” A shot of panic hit her chest as she slowed her steps, trying to muster a polite excuse to extricate herself from the moment, but it was too late. Sophie pulled her inside the elevator just as the doors closed.
CHAPTER 8
For the first time in his entire life, Freddie was ready for the party to be over.
The music—a new album from an electronic duo that he used to love—was awful. His newly painted apartment was lit up with carefully placed lights along the walls, full of strangers whose names he wouldn’t remember in an hour all mingling and laughing as waiters passed around platters of hors d’oeuvres. Back in college he used to be the life of the party, but now he was counting down the minutes until he could sit down and enjoy some silence.
When had that happened? When he was younger, he made anything and everything into an excuse for a party, mostly because it had felt like there was so much worth celebrating. The future held nothing but limitless opportunity, and all they had to do was grab it. The excitement had been so pure and so naive he almost wanted to laugh.
“So what do you think?” George asked.
The sound of his friend’s voice pulled Freddie from his thoughts. The room was bursting with people and lights and music, but the two men had created their own little bubble in the center of it.It was the only thing keeping Freddie from retreating back to his room and shutting the door.
“About what?” Freddie replied.
His friend’s brow furrowed. “The meeting with Mark from AirSoil. He emailed you about sitting down over lunch sometime soon, right?”
“Right.” Freddie nodded as if he had been following. He vaguely remembered the email, but it was like so many he had seen before—full of platitudes and false sincerity, all under the guise of making him feel important—that he hadn’t even really bothered to absorb the details. “Yeah, I think it’s set.”
“You think?”
Freddie turned to his friend and flashed him a crooked grin. “Don’t worry, George. I’ll make you look good.”
His friend didn’t look convinced, but before he could press Freddie further, the front door opened again and more people poured into the apartment, followed by squeals and laughter and greetings.
And Anne Elliot.
Freddie’s heart stumbled.Shit. What was she doing here? He hadn’t invited her. He could have—for a split second he even considered it, but he had wanted to avoid this feeling more—the tension in his muscles, the ache in his chest as his gaze found her striking profile held high as she glanced around the room, her blond hair pulled back in that neat ponytail he remembered so well, her bow lips puckered just slightly…
Then his gaze slid to his sister at Anne’s side.
Double shit.
He turned so his back was to them and took a deep sip of his drink.
George frowned. “What’s wrong?”
