I ignored the brief spark of satisfaction that thought brought.
Luca’s gaze flicked to my cuff, then up to me. “At least you wore the right shoes that time.”
A surprised laugh slipped out of me. “I maintain that no one noticed.”
Henry looked between us. “What?”
“He showed up to a charity gala in mismatched shoes,” Luca said, perfectly composed.
“Sebastian,” Henry gasped, clutching his chest. “Not the shoes.”
“They were both black,” I muttered.
“They were not the same black.”
Henry leaned back in his chair, delighted. “Please tell me there are photos.”
“Unfortunately not,” Luca said.
The corner of my mouth betrayed me anyway. “You’re never letting that go.”
“Never,” he murmured.
The smile lingered, but something tight coiled low in my stomach. This had always been easy—slipping into shared glances and private jokes after too many rooms full of people performing importance. Two weeks ago, it would have felt perfectly natural.
Now…
“So, you work in fashion?” Raúl asked.
“Yes, in marketing, but with my family’s fashion house,” Luca told them, his accent charming enough to draw their attention without trying.
Ethan snapped his fingers, and we all turned toward him.
His head tilted slightly, a small smile playing on his lips, his full attention fixed on me. “I just figured out what’s different about you.”
“What?”
He lowered his sunglasses, giving me a calculated once-over. “You’re not smoking. I can’t smell it on you either. That sort of threw me off the last time I saw you too.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I quit a year ago.” I watched, riveted, as his smile deepened.
“And it stuck?”
“Yes, well, as the years go by, health starts being a more pressing matter.”
“So you don’t smoke at all?”
I pressed my lips together, looking away as I reached for my pocket. Pulling out a vape, I held it out to him.
He snatched it with a laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You vape? Sebastian Langley vapes?”
A chuckle made its way past my lips. “I try not to, but occasionally, yes.” I couldn’t exactly admit the only reason I’d brought it today was because this little meeting was setting my nerves on edge.
“Oh, please tell me it’s flavored. I’ll never stop giving you shit about it,” he said, bringing it to his lips and taking a drag. I’d forgotten how gorgeous he looked doing that.
“Sorry to break it to you, but no.” I took it from him and slipped it back into my pocket, resisting the urge to press it to my own lips. “No flavor.”
“That would’ve been hilarious,” Henry said, that same awkward look returning to his face.
