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“-and do you remember our conversation about responsibility?” Jessie prodded, getting wise that if she parked herself directly in front of me, I’d have no choice but to pay attention to the words that were coming out of her mouth.
“Look, Jess-”
“I prefer Mrs. Stone,” she corrected darkly, her stern lips thinning until they were as sharp as a blade.
“Well, I prefer to finish my drink in peace,” I jingled the ice in my glass just to earn a fresh eye roll from her. “Speaking of drinks, I think I need another.”
Jessie didn’t budge. “Are you sure that’s wise? I understand the need to take the edge off, but you’ve already polished off the flask in your right pocket and that’s your second scotch.”
Now she did have my full attention. “Do you have a drone hovering somewhere, tracking my every movement?”
She took the dig as a compliment, beaming. “No drone necessary, Jason. I’m just that good.”
“Cheers to that!” I swiped a fresh glass of some fruity cocktail that was apparently Scott’s guilty pleasure. I winced when it went down, more sugar than the good stuff. He oughta be ashamed of himself.
Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose and her lips whispered something I didn’t catch. Probably a quick prayer. The emcee, some annoying local DJ that Denise interned with back in college, was trying to get everyone to sit down so we could start the toasts.
“Please take the notecards,” Jessie begged. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I am the CEO of one of the most successful tech companies in the game right now, Mrs. Stone. I think I can handle a toast.”
I cast a final look toward the cupcake stand. From the steady influx of guests and those who snuck back over for seconds, I doubted I’d get a chance for one of my own, but I had no complaints. I got a taste of the icing, tinged with the sweetness of her surprise that I’d been so bold to make that cocktail napkin she’d reached for irrelevant.
The way she’d hitched her-
I dropped my glass, watching it fall in slow motion, expecting the crystal to shatter, sprinkling the floor like confetti. Like the confetti that rained from the ceiling of the Galt Ballroom before the clock even struck midnight that year.
There’d been a gorgeous brunette who sauntered into the room and struck a pose that would have made supermodels green with envy, then bursted into laughter—and swept the room with a smoky glare that went right to my cock. Her laugh, this musical sound that bobbed along the notes of the music and crinkled the edges of her eyes sent heat rushing to her cheeks. That smile should have made me think about how those lips would feel wrapped around me, but something was happening to my chest. Like a DJ scratching the record, it literally skipped a beat.
I was used to the kind of women who only laughed out loud, metaphorically speaking. They turned unabashed joy into something as one dimensional as ‘lol’. They spent their time concerned with appearances. This woman threw caution to the wind, and it wasn’t because of some catch phrase like YOLO. This was just her.
In that brief flash, I saw enough that I knew I had to know her. That I wanted to find out what other unfiltered sounds she made.
I blinked, wondering if Jessie had a point about me slowing down. My college days were far behind me and I couldn’t pound them back like I used to. Luckily for me, and whatever staff member was woefully stuck on clean up duty, Jessie caught the glass before it hit the floor.
“Good save,” I commented, craning my neck past her, seeking out the stand, but coming up empty. “The woman behind the cupcakes-”
“Miss Madison is probably headed to her seat, like everyone else but you, Mr. Cox.”
Not believing her, I kept my eyes on that cutesy little logo, the night we met coming back to me in bits and pieces.
I didn’t get nervous, especially when it came to women, but I had a slight twist in my gut as I’d strode to the bar, flabbergasted by the fact that the bartender, and every other man in the room, seemed oblivious to her, then instantly happy that they were too stuck on their cardboard cuts outs...because she would be mine.
Jessie gave me a push toward the table. I dodged a murderous glare from Denise and winks from Scarlet, shuffling over to the groom’s side. One of Scott’s friends, Rob, a stocky football player who spent way too much time reminiscing about all the pussy he used to get, pulled out my chair for me. He wasn’t usually so accommodating and I knew he was secretly hoping I’d be preoccupied with fucking one of the guests and he’d be ‘forced’ to give the toast.
“Thanks, man,” I said effusively, taking him and Scott by surprise.
You’d think I was some sort of asshole from their reaction to me being polite. I could be polite, if the occasion called for it.
I settled in the ivory seat and fixed my tie, zoning out Scarlet’s toast as I went back to more important things, like finding those piercing green eyes in the crowd.
If memory served, I’d given her my name and she’d kept hers a secret. I’d been on my A-game though, and names hadn’t been necessary at all when we hit the elevator.
Just in time, her emerald hued gaze leapt out from the back corner. And if I didn’t know better, there may have been the slightest curve of her lips.
A smile?
Directed at me?
