“Certainly keeps things lively,” Andrew said, raising his glass in a silent toast.
Devney straightened, maintaining her calm facade as though nothing about that exchange had set her heart pounding. As the conversation flowed, she stole a glance at Ronan. His composed demeanor held, yet a new tension edged his posture, as if he too had registered the shift.
Eleanor’s gaze dropped to Devney’s hand, and her stomach plummeted. The ring. She’d been so focused on charm and witthat she’d forgotten about the sunflower perched on her finger like an uninvited party crasher.
It sat there, bold and unapologetic, its cheerful yellow petals clashing spectacularly with the elegance of the evening. A statement piece, certainly—not the kind that said wealth and sophistication. More like whimsical flea-market find.
“That’s an interesting choice,” Eleanor said, polite interest threading her tone as her eyes lingered on the yellow-and-brown sparkle.
Devney didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, he picked it out himself,” she said, lifting her hand, so the light caught the gaudy stones. “Very sentimental.”
“Sentimental?” Eleanor repeated. “Unexpected.”
“Absolutely,” she said, easing into a sliver of truth. “He knew I wouldn’t appreciate the typical choice.”
She sent him a playful glance from beneath her lashes, fingers tracing the sunflower circle.
More than an emblem of their faux engagement, the ring stirred sun-drenched memories of her grandmother’s homestead—golden fields, laughter on the breeze—little pieces of home she hadn’t realized she missed until she spotted the ring at the corner store. Fifteen ninety-nine felt like a small price for a thread back to that warmth.
With a curve to her lips, she turned to Eleanor. “Sunflowers remind me of someone special—my grandmother, who raised me after my mother passed away,” she said, her tone tender as she held the other woman’s gaze. “I wear them because they make me feel closer to her, even though she’s been gone for years.”
Then, as if the moment hadn’t dipped into inconvenient honesty, she nudged him with her elbow. “Isn’t that right?”
He adjusted a cufflink as though the turn in conversation were a routine pivot. “She has a unique way of tying the pastto the present,” he said. His lips curved, not quite a smirk, but close, meant only for her.
“Family values. That’s what I like to see,” Andrew said, gently swirling his bourbon. His blue eyes glimmered with approval as he looked between them. “Not many men understand the importance of uniqueness in a partnership.”
“He’s not most men,” Devney said, patting Ronan with theatrical affection and feeling the brief tension in his muscles.
“Clearly,” Eleanor said, her expression unreadable. Then she laughed, a genuine sound that caught Devney off guard. “Well! They’re not what I expected. I like it.”
“Me, too,” Andrew said, tipping his glass before taking a sip.
Devney exhaled as the tension in her shoulders eased. Eleanor had relaxed, and Andrew’s scrutiny had melted into amused approval. It felt like stepping off a roller coaster and realizing she was still in one piece.
“Shall we discuss that proposal over lunch next week?” Andrew asked Ronan, casual but decisive.
“Of course,” Ronan said, sliding smoothly back into businessman mode. He extended a hand, which Andrew shook. “Devney will call Monday to confirm the details.”
“Wonderful,” Eleanor said brightly, her eyes lingering on Devney a heartbeat longer before she turned with her husband.
The second they were out of earshot, Devney let out the tiniest, most dignified sigh. “Unique, huh?” she said, glancing up at him with a sly grin.
“Unbelievable,” he said under his breath, with no real bite. If anything, he looked a little impressed.
Or maybe she imagined it. Either way, she wasn’t about to let him ruin her moment.
“Admit it,” she said, linking her arm through his as they made their way toward the bar. “You’d be lost without me.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
Later, as the night wound down, and the crowd thinned, he handed her a glass of champagne.
“You deviated from the script, but you pulled it off.”
“Wepulled it off,” she said, clinking his glass.
“I’ll admit it.” He lifted his own. “You’re good at this.”
