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“That sounds uncomfortably like cheating,” I said, glancing back her way just in time for her brows to furrow.
“Nonsense, silly. Networking is half the reason we’re all here this week, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” I allotted, thinking back to Elora’s words. Would she go if Johanna extended the opportunity to her? Probably.
“It’s not cheating. Shaking hands doesn’t garter any favors.” But even as she said it, it felt as though it naturally would. Maybe she was right, and this was a classic case of overthinking. But if I was going to meet the panelists, I’d be doing it beside Elora. Elora, who was heading out of the ballroom beside Lief Erikson, reincarnated.
Now or never, Broderick.
“If you don’t mind, I actually owe my fellow Alaskan a drink. Made a little wager. She kicked my ass. She’s a hell of a presenter, isn’t she?”
“Very impressive,” Johanna agreed amicably, though the change in subject deepened that subtle pinch in what had to be Botox enhanced brows. “But don’t count yourself out just yet,” she added, canting her head as she brushed invisible debris off my shoulder, trailing her fingers down my arm until she squeezed my elbow. I stood, nodding as I disentangled. Christ, she was forward.
“Thanks for stopping by, Miss King. I’ll see you around.”
“It’s Johanna,” she corrected cheerfully, beaming and giving a little wave as she added, “See you around, Alaska.”
Shaking off the feeling of her fingers on my skin, I made to intercept Elora. I pulled my phone from my pocket and fired off a text. Just one question. The answer immediately popped into my inbox.
Broderick
You sure this is a good idea?
Brexley
You said she loves her music.
Broderick
Since high school.
Brexley
So, what are you texting me for?
Go get her. Quinny and I will accept nothing shy of victory, Allen.
Point taken, I sighed, tucking the device away and resigning myself to the inevitable, irreversible free fall off this bridge I was crossing.
Spotting Mr. Tall, blond, and perfect was easy in the sea of much shorter frames, but it was the bombshell in black my eyes trained on next.
“El!” I lengthened my stride, coming up beside them a little faster than frankly acceptable if I was going for casual. When she turned, her broad smile faltered for only a second before giving way to something…tentative? An adorable hesitation warring with the spark in her eyes.
“Broderick! Hey!” she chirped excitedly, like she meant it, and was obviously back in control of her ability to orate. “You were amazing today. You remember Pierce and Cheyenne? Guys, you remember Broderick Allen?”
“Of course,” Pierce said, too authentically cheerful for my liking. Couldn’t even hate the bastard properly. “Nice to see you again. Thoroughly enjoyed your presentation today.”
“Same, same,” I said, smiling. “Very inspired by the neighborhoods you planted in Bolivia.”
The man’s grin went sheepish, as if he was modest under that jock-ish exterior. “Didn’t feel like we could even make a dent in things.”
My chest constricted. Of course, he actually cared. Dammit. “To those mothers, it meant the world,” I reassured.
“Yeah,” he said wistfully, nodding. “One at a time. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.”
“That’s all any of us can do,” Elora added with a genuine grin that warmed my heart. Her sincerity was contagious. Like a hug in human form. “One woman, one kid, one house at a time.”
“True enough,” life-size Ken said thoughtfully before turning his attention to me again. “So, Broderick, you coming out for lunch? We had eyes on the enchilada stand down the street.”
