Page 97 of Crash and Burn
"Oh," I said.
"He's doing good," Evan answered my unasked question. "Seems a little nervous, but that's pretty normal."
"And what about—" My throat closed up. I couldn't say the name.
"Theother woman, you mean?" Evan guessed, not saying Alana's name either. "I haven’t spotted her yet.”
"I see." I hoped I'd be able to get through this night in much the same way.
"They've got Champagne," Evan said. "Want me to get you a glass?"
"God yes," I said fervently. "Make it two."
"Go easy on the alcohol, okay?" He clapped me on the shoulder. "I've seen you drink. You're a cheap date."
I made a face at him as he laughed and left to get us drinks.
I fiddled with my purse as I looked around for a familiar face, but I didn't see Mason and Bree. I did see that Sheryl woman, though, the one from Grant’s boudoir photoshoot. I wanted to wave hello, thinking that maybe I could network with her, but she wasn’t looking in my direction. I didn't think I was going to know anyone else there, aside from—
"Liz!" Grant called out.
My heart jumped and my stomach flipped.
I turned to find him in a suit and tie of his own. My roiling stomach turned warm and melted as I scanned him from head to toe. He usually wore plain denim jeans and t-shirts. These perfectly tailored dress pants and dress shirt fit him like a glove, showing off his slim waist and broad chest. His suit jacket didn't do anything to hide his large arm muscles.
"It's a different look for me, I know," he said with a faint red to his cheeks.
I realized I'd been gaping and snapped my jaw shut.
"It's definitely not your usual style, that's for sure," I managed to reply.
Damn Grant, and damn his gorgeous body. It wasn't fair that I was still so attracted to him. It wasn't fair that even after everything I wanted to drag him off to the nearest broom closet and mess up that finely pressed outfit.
Grant flicked a glance up and down my body, the pupils of his eyes widening as he lingered on my bare legs. He returned his gaze to my face with a stifled cough.
"Black looks good on you," he said, his voice a bit strangled. "And you did something with your hair."
I'd put my hair up into a chic updo with curls framing my face with some subtle and elegant makeup. I knew I looked good. I hadn't exactly planned it this way, wanting to catch Grant's attention. But it didn't hurt to let him know what he was missing.
"Thank you for coming," he said. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“And why is that?” I asked.
"It's nerve-wracking," he admitted. "I've done lots of work for clients, photoshoots and things, but I'd never had my own art, my own artistic vision, on display for everyone to see and judge."
"I've never known you to be so worried about what people think," I said.
"I've never exposed myself to the world like this before," he said, exhaling heavily.
"You're an amazing photographer," I said. "Everyone will love your work.“
He gave me a grateful look.
“I know things are strained between us,” he said. “But there’s something here I’d really like you to see.”
“Aside from your art?” I asked.
