A Perfect Man: International Billionaires IV: The Greeks by Caro LaFever

No, the privileged picked here. The powerful. The perfect.
    Much like Alexander the Great.
    She huffed. Him. Perfect. Whatever.
    “My mother and sisters picked this place.” He shrugged, drawing her gaze to the impeccable fit of his black wool coat. “And Melanie…”
    Sophie’s gaze narrowed. As his face went blank and his mouth went tight and his eyes went flat, an emotion twisted deep inside her. An emotion she had no intention of pulling out and examining.
    He shrugged again, the muscles along his jaw tensing. “Melanie didn’t complain.”
    The way he said the last word called attention to all the times Sophie had complained. About everything. His tone also called attention to the fact that Melanie never complained about anything. What did she care if Alex Stravoudas didn’t like his new fiancée’s complaints? He had no one to blame except himself.
    The limo rolled to a stop at the curb. A bright red carpet led from the edge of the street to the marble staircase leading to two ten-foot brass doors. A couple walked up to the doorman and smiled as he let them in. Sophie didn’t recognize them, yet she’d recognize a whole bunch of people shortly.
    She glanced down at her hands, gloved and fisted in her lap.
    Melanie and Jack were going to be here this evening. The fact that this would be the first time Melanie would see her ex and Alex would see his lost trophy shouldn’t make a difference to her.
    But it did. It really did.
    “I’m surprised Melanie didn’t tell you.” He paused once more after his ex’s name.
    Her friend had been vague and disinterested about her entire wedding and reception. Having a reception at Irving Hall was worth a loud, big celebration all on its own. Mel hadn’t said a word, though, and it had only been when Sophie had inquired about upcoming events at the hall that she found out her friend’s reception was booked there. Mel’s inattention had been one of the first clues Sophie had noted that told her something was wrong with her best bud and her engagement. Mel was always about frou-frou—dresses and lace and girly decorations—unlike herself. When she hadn’t disclosed the details of the biggest day in her life?
    Wrong. In so many ways wrong.
    The whispers of doubt she’d been dealing with as Alexander Stravoudas spoke Melanie’s name got swept away in a second. Whatever his real feelings for her best buddy, he hadn’t been right for Mel. Not at all. She’d done the right thing.
    “She didn’t tell you anything?” His voice went low, pained.
    Another emotion twisted deep down inside. Not guilt precisely. Not a swirl of second thoughts. Still, something close to that as she realized her actions had been right for Mel, but painful for him. “I never asked,” she managed. “And it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
    Forcing herself to look at him, she met his gaze. There was pain there, dammit. And no longer any anger towards her, which made the crazy brew of doubt and regret inside bubble to a boil.
    She should say something.
    I ’ m sorry.
    Yet she wasn’t.
    It ’ s for the best .
    The best for Melanie, but maybe, Oh God, maybe not for him?
    I didn ’ t realize you were hurt. I didn ’ t realize you are human.
    I didn ’ t realize you might have genuinely loved my best friend.
    “Obviously this non-interest in wedding receptions and engagements is something you and Melanie share.” He slid a big hand into his coat pocket and pulled out his cell phone. His gaze dropped, leaving behind the memory of halcyon, blue misery. He tapped on the screen as if proving the conversation they were having was of minimal import.
    But she’d seen. For the first time, she’d seen beneath his surface perfection. She’d glimpsed the reality of him.
    She had to give him something.
    “I cared enough to wear this dress.” As olive branches went, it was puny, yet it was something.
    His wide mouth twisted in a wry smile.
    The something wasn’t enough.
    A solid plank of guilt