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She looked miserable when I walked in tonight. I noticed before I knew why. Now I glance across the ballroom and see the reason.
Evan Mercer.
I remember the name because Lila mentioned Clara was engaged to him a while back.
Apparently that’s no longer true.
He’s standing beside a blonde in red.
“You still marrying the accountant?” I ask.
Clara’s smile disappears. “No.”
Lila gives me a look. “He dumped her six weeks ago.”
“Lila.”
“What? He asked.”
“Why?”
Clara picks up her drink. “Because I’m predictable.”
I look across the room again. Mercer is wearing a navy quarter-zip and looks like a Devil’s Peak douchebag.
“He looks like his closet is stocked with pretty boy chinos and golf shoes.”
Clara chokes on her drink. Lila laughs.
“He’s an accountant,” she says.
“Knew it.”
“What’s wrong with accountants?” Clara asks.
“Nothing. Somebody has to ruin parties.”
“Ryder.”
“What?”
“Be nice.”
“I just got publicly rejected by an entire ballroom and purchased by a librarian. I’m processing.”
“You weren’t rejected,” Lila says.
“Nobody bid.”
“People remember you.”
“Exactly.”
I don’t need clarification. Devil’s Peak remembers Ryder Hale. Apparently eighteen years isn’t enough time for a town to forget. Fine by me. I wasn’t planning to stay.
Clara looks at me and there’s something almost apologetic in her expression.
I don’t like it.
