Page 10 of Trial and Error

Dick. I want to laugh, but instead nod in understanding, because fuck it, if he wants to play this game then so will I.

“I know how you feel.” He frowns. “Meeting my fiancé was such a blessing, and you know how the saying goes, you have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince.”

It’s his turn to look at me like he wants to rip out my jugular, and honestly, the way his lips twitches in annoyance is so fucking rewarding that I can’t help the way my grin widens in delight.

“Is that so? He must work in the field then if you’re attending.”

Fuck.

I didn’t think this through, and the way that Tom’s lip lifts ever so slightly at the corner has me realizing he’s on to me.

I hum as I smooth my hair over my shoulder, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. “That’s right.” I look around, pretending to search for the man in question, and then I wave my hand dismissively. “He’s around here somewhere. Most likely schmoozing with other businessmen, you know what it’s like.”

“Oh, of course he is,” Tom says as he looks down at me with a pitiful smirk. “He must be very good at what he does, to work at such a big company.”

I don’t answer, and he’s about to say something else, but the words die in his mouth as soon as an arm curls around my waist. I try my absolute hardest not to let my panic show as a large hand splays across my stomach, the hairs on my arms standing to attention. Suddenly, I’m being pulled into someone’s warm and solid side, and I pray to God it isn’t some weird creep.

“There you are,” a deep voice says, his lips brushing against the top of my ear. “I thought I’d lost you, baby.”

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders.

Slowly, I let my head turn until I’m met with dark brown eyes.

Shit.

It’s the guy from the club.

elias

I can’t think of anything worse than being dressed in anything other than sweatpants on a Sunday, and the fact I’m covered head to toe in my finest suit should be a crime.

I can’t stay too mad, though, as the only reason I’m doing this is for my brother. His company is hosting a charity event for the pediatric unit at the local hospital, and I’d be a real asshole if I complained about that. The success of his business shows as we enter the Fairmont Hotel. There are already well over a hundred people spread around the room, all poised and posing with their champagne flutes as they talk amongst themselves. Employees and their significant others mingle with other couples, everyone getting to know each other or catching up.

I mainly work on the sidelines as Oscar’s CFO and rarely come face-to-face with any of my brother’s employees, but there are a few people I recognize, like Paul, the CMO, and his wife, Hayley.

Oscar and Isobel stand with them, the four of them deep in conversation, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest as my future sister-in-law looks up at my brother with hearts in her eyes. He looks down at her and places a hand on her bump.

The bar is the most appealing part of this whole thing, and I find myself drifting toward it, eager to escape small talk with anyone. There are a few men already here, most likely significant others of employees, talking with each other, laughing obnoxiously every now and then. As soon as a bartender stops in front of me, I order myself a whiskey and turn to stand at the end of the bar to take a look around.

Avery would love an event like this. A reason to play dress up and chat people up at the bar. While my brother did invite our cousins, both of them had prior commitments, but Avery made it very clear she’d much rather be here than with her friends, though.

I use the word “friends” loosely. Honestly, they suck, or so I hear. Every time I see my cousin, she’s always upset by something they’ve done, and every time I try to offer my two cents and tell her to move on, she snaps and says it’s hard to cut off friendships that have lasted most of her life.

I’ve been quite lucky on the friendship front as having my brother as my best friend has saved me a lot of heartache with friendships throughout my youth. Aside from Oscar and Zac, I have one other best friend who I’ve known since my brother met him at university. And although he isn’t someone I get to see all the time, he’s just as important.

Reeve is the most laidback, easygoing, and down to earth guy I’ve ever met in my life. I was bummed when he moved to Prince George a few years after he graduated to help with the wildfires. But he’s wanted to be a firefighter for as long as I’ve known him, and even when his parents forced him to go to university to study economics, he never let his true passion die down.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts as my eyes snag on a blonde woman weaving through the crowd like she’d rather be anywhere else but here, and I smirk.

We’ve got something in common. I let my eyes wander down her petite frame and I fight the groan that threatens to fall from my lips. Curves upon curves are covered in the softest looking fabric that has me itching to ball it up into my fist and expose more of that creamy thigh that’s peeking out from the slit going up her left leg.

It’s not until she looks to the side that I feel like I know her. But from where, I can’t place. She’s not someone I’ve hooked up with recently, because, boy, I would remember her. I wrack my brain, thinking where I might’ve met her, and then it dawns on me—she’s the woman from the club.

She looks different today, though, so much so that I almost didn’t recognize her, her blonde hair looks shinier somehow under the white lighting and falling down her back in soft waves. Her piercing baby blues are framed with thick lashes and her round lips are painted a deep ruby red, and I hate the way my head instantly visualizes the way those lips would look wrapped around my dick.

I clear my throat at the thought, and shift slightly as the front of my slacks start to grow tight.

She reaches the bar and lets out a deep and relaxed sigh, only to tense up again when some guy strides up to her with a cocky smirk, and I find myself standing up straighter.