I looked expectantly at Nash, waiting for his response. It wasn’t a hardship to let my eyes rest on the man: he looked dang good in his dark gray suit. It fit him well, and set off by the white shirt against his tan skin, he reminded me of an old-time movie star.
We were sitting at a table by ourselves at the Glory Days Dinner Dance in the Rivers-Holt Ballroom at the Riverside, watching our classmates dance and mingle. Ostensibly, we were watching for Jared, who hadn’t yet made an appearance, but in reality, I knew that Nash and I were simply enjoying each other’s company.
The question had popped into my head, prompted by the slide show that was playing against the far wall. Apparently, people from our class had sent in old pictures from our so-called glory days, and a 1980s mixtape played in the background of the show. I’d just spotted a photo of Emmy, Sheri, Delilah and me at our senior prom: while Sheri and Emmy looked happy, hamming it up for the camera (and I had no idea who was taking the picture), I could see the strain on my face and Delilah’s expression of pain.
I had just begun to suspect I might be pregnant the day of our prom, which accounted for my tension. Delilah had just learned something shocking before we walked into the prom, and her sense of betrayal hadn’t even begun to fade.
Let’s just say that prom wasn’t exactly a happy memory for either of us.
“No, I didn’t go.” Nash was answering me now, pulling me from my brooding memories. “Remember that back in the eighties, you had to have a date to go to your prom. There wasn’t any of this going stag or going with friends that kids can do now.”
“Why didn’t you ask someone?” I tilted my head. “Lots of girls would have jumped at the chance to go to prom with you.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You have a selective memory, Peyton. I might have found someone who needed a date, but I’m not sure anyone was jonesing to bemydate in particular.” He paused. “Also, the girl I wanted to take was already spoken for, and it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone else. They would have been my second choice.”
“I wish I’d gone with you.” I wrinkled my nose. “Ryan got drunk and threw up all over his car—with me in it. We were supposed to go to a party afterward, but instead, I drove him home, and he passed out on his living room sofa.”
“I hope you went to the party without him,” Nash remarked. “And I hope you had a great time.”
“I didn’t.” I sighed. “I went home and got changed, then early the next morning, I drove to Daytona to go to a health clinic for a pregnancy test. Good times, all around.”
“Well, now, I wish you’d gone with me, too.” Nash reached over to cover my hand with his. “I wouldn’t have puked, and I would have gone to the clinic with you.”
“I know.” I wanted to say more, to tell Nash how much I wished things had been different back then, but before I could, I caught sight of a man entering the ballroom. “Nash! Jared Brady, at three o’clock!”
“What?” Nash frowned at me, confused, until I jerked my head in Jared’s direction a few times.
“Come on.” I stood up, tugging on Nash’s hand. “Let’s go talk to him.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nash stalled. “Maybe we should let him mingle a little. We don’t want to tackle him the moment he walks in the door.”
“Yes, we do,” I insisted. “What if he leaves, and we don’t get a chance to talk to him? Let’s strike while the iron is hot.”
Nash finally let me drag him across the ballroom to where Jared was chatting with one of the reunion committee members. When he spotted me over her shoulder, I saw his eyes light up.
“No way! Peyton Rivers! Dammit, girl, it’s been a minute.”
Laughing, I gave Jared a quick hug, still holding onto Nash’s hand. I felt his fingers tighten around mine, and I wondered fleetingly if he were jealous of me hugging my old neighbor.
“I’m so glad to see you, too, JB.” I stepped back and slipped my arm around Nash’s waist. “Do you remember Nash Sampson? He was in our class, too, but I’m not sure if you two went around with the same crowd.”
That was my tactful way of saying that Nash was too smart to spend time with a crazy dude like Jared Brady. He’d been a real wild child back when we were kids.
“Sampson?” Jared frowned. “Nash Sampson? I guess I kind of remember—your name is definitely familiar.”
Nash shook Jared’s hand. “Well, that might be for another reason. I’m a partner with Jamison Sustainable Property Development out of Burton.”
“Ohhhh.” Jared glanced from Nash to me, and then he groaned. “Don’t tell me that you’re gonna talk business to me here tonight. For real? Now?”
I chuckled softly and released Nash’s hand to grip Jared’s elbow, guiding him toward an empty table behind us.
“Don’t look so glum, JB. This won’t take long—as long as you listen to me when I talk sense to you.”
“I don’t knowhow you did that.”
Nash stared at me as though I’d suddenly grown wings. The admiration in his gaze had taken on a brand-new dimension, it seemed.
“I mean, seriously. I don’t understand it.” He shook his head, looking bewildered. “I always knew you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and I knew you were crazy smart, too. But I had no idea that you were such a savvy business negotiator.”
