trader who has invited one hundred of his closest friends here to celebrate his thirty-fifth birthday. It’ll be a catered affair—with the band, of course, and a DJ. We’re all invited, courtesy of Vivi’s efforts.” Cat crossed her legs.
“What’s the dress code?” Laney asked.
“Good question. I have no idea.” Vivi laughed. “I’ll ask tomorrow when I rehearse again.”
David’s muscles tightened. Each day she spent with Franco robbed him of opportunities to rebuild their friendship. God, why hadn’t Cat told him she planned to bring Vivi?
“You have to rehearse again?” Jackson asked.
“Yep. And the next day, too.”
“What kind of music will you be performing?” Hank asked.
“Mostly pop rock, a little indie rock. We whittled the set list down to what I knew.” She popped her shoulders up as she grinned. “Short and sweet, just like me.”
A collective groan turned into laughter. And although she projected confidence, David noticed Vivi nibble on her bottom lip. He then immediately wished he’d quit noticing her lips, and questioned why he couldn’t stop staring at her.
Was it the year apart? Was it her indifference? The growing suspicion that it might be much more distressed him.
After clearing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, everyone retired to the deck with a drink. David stood, leaning against the railing, staring out over the ocean while the wind ruffled his hair.
He listened to the slow thrum of the ocean, willing it to settle his thoughts, to remind him he had no right to interfere with Franco and Vivi. Hell, she was barely speaking with him, anyway. At that moment, her voice caught his attention, so he turned to face the group. Apparently she’d engaged them all in another of her silly games.
“If you were a dog, Jackson, you’d be a retriever!” Some of her wine slipped over the rim of her glass and dripped onto her lap. “Oops!”
David tore his gaze away as the liquid dribbled along her inner thigh.
“Why a retriever?” Jackson asked. “Big and messy?”
“Ha! Yes. But, you’re a retriever at heart: exuberant, playful, and eager to please.” She slapped his knee with the back of her hand.
He grinned and barked, “Woof, woof.”
David chuckled under his breath. He then glanced at Laney, whose yawn indicated her boredom with Vivi’s games. Had she been so humorless in Hong Kong? Then again, he’d been uptight, too. No wonder he’d been having trouble reconnecting with his family.
“Dare I ask?” Cat leaned forward curiously and speared Vivi with a warning look. “What kind of dog am I?”
“Oh, easy.” Vivi smiled. “A Shiba Inu.”
“I don’t even know that dog.” Cat’s narrowed eyes challenged her friend. “Should I be insulted?”
“It’s independent, bold, headstrong . . . and vocal!” Vivi eyed Jackson, and they burst into laughter while Cat sat back wearing a pleased expression.
The silly exchange reminded him of so many unproductive yet entertaining evenings with his family. Good times he missed and now wanted back in his life, along with Vivi.
When they returned to New York, he’d carve time from his schedule and reach out. They could rediscover their old haunts, check out the latest exhibitions, and people watch in the park.
“What about me?” Hank asked.
“Hmm. I don’t know you very well, so I’d guess a Clumber spaniel: laid-back and devoted.”
Hank smiled, apparently happy with his designation.
Vivi sank into her chair and chugged the rest of her wine, closing her eyes. No one seemed to notice or care he and Laney had been left out of the discussion. Once again, he felt invisible. A disturbing trend.
“What about me?” He couldn’t help himself; curiosity demanded to know how she saw him. Her eyes popped open with surprise, which made him grin. “I’ve never thought of myself as a dog, but now I must know my breed.”
She hesitated, allowing the sudden silence on the deck to stretch out. The air
“What’s the dress code?” Laney asked.
“Good question. I have no idea.” Vivi laughed. “I’ll ask tomorrow when I rehearse again.”
David’s muscles tightened. Each day she spent with Franco robbed him of opportunities to rebuild their friendship. God, why hadn’t Cat told him she planned to bring Vivi?
“You have to rehearse again?” Jackson asked.
“Yep. And the next day, too.”
“What kind of music will you be performing?” Hank asked.
“Mostly pop rock, a little indie rock. We whittled the set list down to what I knew.” She popped her shoulders up as she grinned. “Short and sweet, just like me.”
A collective groan turned into laughter. And although she projected confidence, David noticed Vivi nibble on her bottom lip. He then immediately wished he’d quit noticing her lips, and questioned why he couldn’t stop staring at her.
Was it the year apart? Was it her indifference? The growing suspicion that it might be much more distressed him.
After clearing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, everyone retired to the deck with a drink. David stood, leaning against the railing, staring out over the ocean while the wind ruffled his hair.
He listened to the slow thrum of the ocean, willing it to settle his thoughts, to remind him he had no right to interfere with Franco and Vivi. Hell, she was barely speaking with him, anyway. At that moment, her voice caught his attention, so he turned to face the group. Apparently she’d engaged them all in another of her silly games.
“If you were a dog, Jackson, you’d be a retriever!” Some of her wine slipped over the rim of her glass and dripped onto her lap. “Oops!”
David tore his gaze away as the liquid dribbled along her inner thigh.
“Why a retriever?” Jackson asked. “Big and messy?”
“Ha! Yes. But, you’re a retriever at heart: exuberant, playful, and eager to please.” She slapped his knee with the back of her hand.
He grinned and barked, “Woof, woof.”
David chuckled under his breath. He then glanced at Laney, whose yawn indicated her boredom with Vivi’s games. Had she been so humorless in Hong Kong? Then again, he’d been uptight, too. No wonder he’d been having trouble reconnecting with his family.
“Dare I ask?” Cat leaned forward curiously and speared Vivi with a warning look. “What kind of dog am I?”
“Oh, easy.” Vivi smiled. “A Shiba Inu.”
“I don’t even know that dog.” Cat’s narrowed eyes challenged her friend. “Should I be insulted?”
“It’s independent, bold, headstrong . . . and vocal!” Vivi eyed Jackson, and they burst into laughter while Cat sat back wearing a pleased expression.
The silly exchange reminded him of so many unproductive yet entertaining evenings with his family. Good times he missed and now wanted back in his life, along with Vivi.
When they returned to New York, he’d carve time from his schedule and reach out. They could rediscover their old haunts, check out the latest exhibitions, and people watch in the park.
“What about me?” Hank asked.
“Hmm. I don’t know you very well, so I’d guess a Clumber spaniel: laid-back and devoted.”
Hank smiled, apparently happy with his designation.
Vivi sank into her chair and chugged the rest of her wine, closing her eyes. No one seemed to notice or care he and Laney had been left out of the discussion. Once again, he felt invisible. A disturbing trend.
“What about me?” He couldn’t help himself; curiosity demanded to know how she saw him. Her eyes popped open with surprise, which made him grin. “I’ve never thought of myself as a dog, but now I must know my breed.”
She hesitated, allowing the sudden silence on the deck to stretch out. The air
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