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Somehow it mattered here, now, with this mess of a girl, and for the first time in a long time, he wished he were better with the touchy-feely shit.
Then again, in her current state, it was more than possible that she wouldn’t even remember having this conversation, or this entire encounter. A part of him hoped she didn’t. Keeping Georgiana Watkins at a distance felt…safe. Smart.
Georgiana shook her head as though trying to banish all the sad thoughts. Before he could react, she’d reached out and wrapped slim fingers around his wrist, pulling his watch face toward her.
Then she grinned, her melancholy mood apparently behind her. “There we go.”
“There we go what?” he asked gruffly, trying not to register the feeling of her fingertips against his skin.
“Five o’clock,” she said, dropping his hand. “Right on schedule. Shall we start arguing now?”
“I don’t have time to argue with you. You’ve already made me late enough.”
She didn’t seem to notice his sharp words, her vodka-soaked brain already moving on to the next subject. Georgiana was glancing down, and she made a happy sound when she looked at his feet.
“Your Dorothy slippers! They’re back!”
She started to bend as though to touch his gym shoes, and Andrew cursed, grabbing her arm and pulling her upright. Enough already.
“Mr. Ramirez,” he called across the expansive lobby to where the concierge had been discreetly minding his own business, “Ms. Watkins’s shoes are a little slippery from the rain. Can you help her to the elevators?”
Ramon immediately started moving toward them, and Andrew slid his hand from Georgiana’s small wrist to her elbow, making sure she stayed steady on her feet until he could hand her off.
“You okay?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. She was rummaging around in the donut box, saying, “Eenie, meenie, minie—”
“Hey,” he said firmly, grabbing her chin gently, lifting her face to his. “Don’t eat that. You don’t need the sugar right now. Let Ramon get you upstairs, take an Advil, wash it down with two glasses of water, and eat a banana if you have one.”
“I don’t have one. But I have a leftover red velvet cupcake from Sprinkles. Does that count as a substitution?”
“Why would that—You know what? Never mind,” he muttered as Ramon approached.
He and the other man exchanged a brief look and a nod of understanding as Ramon placed a hand beneath Georgiana’s elbow. “Careful now, Ms. Watkins. Let me just help you to the elevators. I’ll have someone clean up the water on the floor right away.”
The water wasn’t the problem, and he and Ramon both knew it, but Georgie seemed oblivious, linking her arm in Ramon’s like they were best friends and happily chatting about the bakery throwing a complimentary pumpkin spice old-fashioned into the donut box.
Andrew watched them a moment longer, making sure that Ramon’s grip was enough to prevent Georgiana from falling on her face. Once she made it to the elevator, Andrew started to turn away to get on with his day, but then he heard his name.
He glanced back and saw Georgiana waving at him happily, much as she had with the cab driver.
Don’t wave back. For the love of God, man, don’t—
Andrew lifted his hand, just briefly, in acknowledgment.
Damn. She really was the most ridiculous creature. He carefully hid his smile until he was back outside.
Georgie
MONDAY AFTERNOON
Ugh.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a hangover. And a long, long time since I’ve had a hangover this bad.
I shuffle into the kitchen and open the fridge, hoping for Gatorade to magically appear. Those electrolytes got me through sorority life.
Nope.
