Page 96 of Love Lessons
And a few minutes after that, Danforth had invited me to this gala.
“Oh,” I say.
Ohhhhhhhhhh, my inner voice says.Well, of course.You really should have seen that coming.
I hadn’t, though.
Wow. I really am an idiot.
“Youdoknow him, right?” Danforth asks. “Didn’t you just go to Italy with the guy?”
“Of course, I did.” I swallow hard. “He’s picking me up in half an hour.”
“Score, babe. Well done. Great networking.”
“But…” My heart trembles. “Did you ask me to the gala just so you could meet him?”
There’s a telling pause. “Don’t be like that,” he says after a beat. “I definitely want to meet the billionaire. He could change the whole path of my career. But that’s how we roll, V. We’re ambitious. I took a stack of your business cards because you want to expand your clientele. And I want to expand mine. You’re the one who used to say we were going to become a power couple. This is how it’s done.”
“Right,” I say, although my throat feels tight.
He’s right. I used to say that very thing. It’s just that I cared more about thecouplepart of that phrase than thepower. And I still do.
“See you soon,” he says. “Can’t wait to see more of that dress.”
“Yes,” I say woodenly. “See you soon.”
I hang up the phone and tuck it away in my clutch bag. I step in front of my mirror again and study the full effect.
The dress is still magic. I can live my best life tonight. I can draw eyes from across the room.
It’s just that I think I picked the wrong room.
THIRTY-TWO
Pink Stuff on a Cracker
IAN
Discreetly hidingmy phone behind my beer, I tap out a text.My cheeks hurt from smiling. They literally hurt. That’s how pleasant I’ve been today.
Drake must be bored at his gala, because he replies almost immediately.Maybe you just don’t use those muscles enough. We can work on that in the gym.
He adds a biceps emoji, and I snort.
My mother gives me an elbow to the ribs. “Put away your phone. That’s rude.”
“Ma, I’ve been on my best behavior going on twelve hours now.” Actually, it’s only been three hours. But it feels like twelve when you’re at your ex’s wedding, and the girl you really want is on a dream date with someone else. “You know, they shouldn’t be able to call it a cocktail ‘hour’ if it goes on forever. Are you sure they’re planning to serve actual food at some point?”
“Here, try one of these.” She passes me a tiny plate, and I eye the hors d’oeuvre with suspicion.
Pink stuff on a cracker. “What is this, anyway?”
“Salmon pâté en croûte.”
I shove one of them into my mouth. “It’s tasty, but I prefer when my food doesn’t look pre-chewed.”
My father laughs so suddenly that he chokes on his white wine, and now it’s his turn to get my mother’s evil eye. I check my messages again.
