A man I'd met at someone's birthday party last spring clapped me on the shoulder. "Dubois! Heard you're working for your brother now. How's that going?"
I laughed like it was the funniest thing I'd heard all night. "You know how it is. Family business."
"Sure, sure." He leaned closer, breath sour with whiskey. "Hey, I've got this investment opportunity. Very exclusive. If you could mention it to Sebastian..."
"Send me the details." I was already stepping away. "I'll take a look."
I wouldn't do that either.
This was the dance. Smile, nod, promise, forget. I'd been doing it since I was old enough to attend my first charity gala, dressed up in a tiny tuxedo while my grandmother introduced me to people whose names I couldn't pronounce.
I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and found a relatively quiet corner by the bar.
Somewhere out there was a woman willing to marry me. A woman who could stand in front of my grandmother and make her believe I'd finally grown up. I just had to find her. Maybe tonight would be the night. Maybe I'd bump into some fallen angel, drop to my knees, and beg her to save me from my own family.
Stranger things had happened.
"Whoa… why the long face? Did someone kill your dog?”
Isaac appeared at my elbow, two drinks in hand, his usual grin firmly in place. My best friend since prep school, partner in every bad decision I'd ever made. He was shorter than me by a couple of inches, stockier.
We'd met when we were twelve, both miserable at an exclusive summer camp neither of us wanted to attend. He'd stolen a counselor's golf cart. I'd helped him hide it in the lake. We'd been inseparable ever since.
I glanced at his head. He still hadn’t gotten rid of that bloody mullet. I told him it was a bad idea, but Isaac only listened to Isaac.
"I don't have a dog," I said.
"Exactly." He handed me one of the drinks. "You should get one. Dogs love you unconditionally. Never ask where the relationship is going."
I snorted and took a long swallow. Whiskey. Good whiskey. Isaac knew what I needed before I did.
We stood there for a while, watching the crowd. A woman in a silver dress caught Isaac's eye, and he nudged me with his elbow. "Two o'clock. Blonde. Legs for days."
I looked. She was beautiful, objectively. The kind of beautiful that used to make my pulse quicken, that used to send me across the room with a smile and a line and absolute confidence in how the night would end.
"Not tonight."
Isaac turned to stare at me. "Not tonight? Did I hear that correctly? Xavier Dubois, passing up a gorgeous woman?"
"I'm not in the mood."
"You're never not in the mood. What's going on with you? You've been weird all week."
"I haven't been weird."
"You showed up to work on time three days in a row. Three days, Xavier. That's a sign of the apocalypse."
I didn't answer. I was… well, ashamed to admit to anyone that I was a victim of my grandmother’s ploys. Sometimes, I feared she was doing this to me due to my… unique origins. But I knew Eleanor Dubois better than that.
"Seriously. Talk to me. What's happening in that pretty head of yours?" I heard Isaac say.
I briefly contemplated telling him what was going on. Maybe he’d be able to find me a wife. Isaac was resourceful when hewanted to be. But before I could make a decision, a hand touched my arm.
I turned to find the redhead… uh… Bian… no. Brianna? Well, B-something. She was wearing green tonight. A dress that was more suggestion than fabric, clinging to curves I vaguely remembered exploring. Her lips were painted red, and she was looking at me like I was something she wanted to devour.
"Xavier,” she purred. "You never called me back."
"I've been busy."
