but what else could I say?
I drained my glass and asked. “What time are
you serving?”
“Two o’clock,” Mom said.
The Spencer-Taft feast was going to be served
at noon, so there was a chance I’d be delayed and wouldn’t make it
to Mom’s on time—if I was lucky, that is.
“I’ll keep you informed,” Mom promised, and
we ended the call.
I reached for my wine glass, then saw that it
was empty. Jeez, when had that happened?
Just as I was searching the crowd for the
waitress, a fresh glass appeared on my table. I looked up and saw
that Liam had placed it there.
“Here,” he said, and pushed the glass closer.
“Drink this until I start to look good.”
“I’m going to need another one of these,” I
told him.
He grinned.
Liam had a great grin. He looked great, too,
dressed in a navy blue pinstriped business suit and a maroon shirt
and tie combo, holding a beer.
“What’s black and brown and looks good on a
lawyer?” he asked. “A Doberman pinscher.”
I gave him his grin right back—which I
sincerely hoped was as hot as his was.
“How do you stop a lawyer from drowning?” he
asked. “Shoot him before he hits the water.”
Okay, now I laughed. He laughed, too, then
gestured to the empty wine glass.
“Rough day at the event planning business?”
he asked.
Jeez, he must have seen me chugging it down
when I was on the phone with Mom—not exactly the image I wanted to
project.
“I was just finalizing some plans for
Thanksgiving,” I said.
“Family or clients?” he asked.
He sat down in the chair next to mine. Wow,
he smelled great. Some kind of heat was rolling off of him, somehow
urging me to snuggle closer—even though I hadn’t touched my second
wine yet.
“I’m staging a feast out in Calabasas,” I
said, “then going to my mom’s house.”
He nodded. “My mom’s got the whole family
going somewhere, doing something. She hasn’t told me where I’m
supposed to show up yet. Probably my grandma’s in San Diego.”
I thought it was kind of cool that he was
spending the holiday with his family and seemed to be okay with
it.
Obviously, his family was more fun than
mine.
“Hi there,” Marcie said.
I realized she’d joined us at the table. Liam
stood and held the chair while she sat on the other side of me.
They introduced themselves.
“I should have known I wouldn’t be lucky
enough to catch you here alone,” he said to me, and favored both of
us with a smile. “You ladies enjoy your evening.”
Liam gave me one last long, lingering look—or
maybe that’s how I looked at him—then joined a group of men
standing at the bar.
“Oh my God,” Marcie whispered. “He’s
gorgeous.”
I tried for a nonchalant shrug, but didn’t
pull it off.
“Did he ask you out?” she wanted to know.
“You’d be crazy not to—”
Marcie suddenly latched onto my arm with a
something-major-is-going-down death-grip, and leaned closer.
“Ty’s here,” she told me.
All my senses jumped to high alert.
Ty Cameron, my ex-official-boyfriend was
here? In this bar? Just steps away? Oh my God, why hadn’t I noticed
him?
And more importantly, why hadn’t he noticed
me?
I shifted into stealth mode and swept the
bar. The place was packed with good looking men dressed in
expensive suits, crowded together at—
Oh my God, there he was, looking as handsome
as ever, impeccably dressed, seated with two other guys. I was
relieved he wasn’t with a date, but concerned that he was here.
Ty was a workaholic. At this time of day he
was usually still elbow-deep in the running of the Holt’s
Department Store chain, plus its other holdings. Ty definitely
wasn’t the kind of guy to knock off early, head for a bar, and belt
down a few with his buddies.
What the heck was going on with him?
“Do you think he saw you talking to Liam?”
Marcie whispered.
My emotions spun up even higher.
Had Ty seen me? Would he come over? Talk to
me?
Was he wondering who Liam was? Why I was
talking
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