Oh, wouldn’t she be scandalized to know. “Relaxing. Snorkeling. Swimming, trying local foods. A little shopping. And many spa appointments. Brooke and I needed all the R and R we could get.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dad says. “You’ve earned it, college grad.”
I lean over the table and slide my hands toward my mom.
“Speaking of which. Like my nails? I just had them done.”
Her blue eyes meet mine. They soften for a fraction of a second. “I’m not sure I would have chosen that shade, sweetheart.”
“Brooke liked it,” I say breezily.
Mom’s about to reply—probably with some version of, “If Brooke jumped off a cliff, would you?”—when a server comes by and pours us all champagne. Thank God.
“Blair,” my mother scolds. “Slow down on the alcohol.”
Glancing at my flute, I realize it’s already empty.
“Sorry,” I say. “I guess I was thirsty.”
I turn to my father. I’m about to change the subject and ask him if he’s given any more consideration to what position I might be taking on at the Tisdale Corporation. I need to remind him that I’m ready to prove myself. That this is what I’ve studied for, worked myself into exhaustion for.
The words are on the tip of my tongue when Dad says, “Well, you aren’t the only late one.” Pushing back his chair, he rises to his feet. “Here’s one of the owners of the place, who’s personally taking care of us.”
Turning in my chair, I look over my shoulder, following his gaze. Chills race down my spine and my jaw falls open as I take in the man heading toward us.
No. Freaking. Way.
10
SEBASTIAN
Sunshine is sittingwith my new clients, her expression frozen and inscrutable as her eyes meet mine.
I can do nothing but stride toward the table as my brain races to make sense of what I’m seeing.
But there’s only one explanation: Sunshine is the fucking match.
Her parents are Mr. and Mrs. Tisdale, who have signed their daughter up with The Quattuor Group to be wined and dined by a succession of three wealthy men, who will then bid handsomely for her hand in marriage at an online auction. An online auction which she’ll know nothing about, because only the parents and the bachelors are ever aware that the agency has orchestrated the whole thing.
Of course Sunshine is the match. Thinking back to the day we first met on the beach, when I wondered if I’d ever laugh honestly again, I suddenly realize that meeting her—and having the chance to laugh with her—was clearly God’s way of playing a cruel joke on me.
She’s not just some incredible woman who serendipitously ran into me. She’sBlair Tisdale, daughter of Walter and Veronica Tisdale, financial moguls, and owners of the New YorkRockets pro baseball team—one of the wealthiest power couples in the United States.
And there’s nothing I can do now but grit my teeth and make nice with her parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Tisdale, welcome,” I say cordially as I approach the table.
Swiveling my gaze in Sunshine’s—Blair’s—direction, I give a cursory shake of my head, hoping she can read my mind.You don’t know me.Because I’m sure as hell going to pretend that I don’t know her. She blinks, lips still parted in shock, but thankfully she doesn’t speak.
Aware that her parents are looking at me expectantly, I smooth my tie and plaster on a smile.
“My sincere apologies for being late,” I go on. “My last meeting ran over.”
Walter shakes my hand with a vice-like grip and a smile on his face, while Veronica shakes perfunctorily, her cool blue eyes seeming to judge me. I wonder if she smells the sex I didn’t have time to wash off.
“And you must be Blair,” I say. I keep my hands to myself this time.
“So nice to meet you,” she says. “Mr.… ”
