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I reach out, snatch the briefcase from his hand, and take a step back.
His face is menacing. “Georgiana…”
I hold it up. “I’m holding it hostage. Until after dinner.”
He takes a step nearer. “Stop acting like a child.”
“Stop acting like an asshole,” I fire back. “Have a drink. Eat some food. Make some friends.”
Like me.
He glares. “They’re your friends, and—”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m good at sharing,” I interrupt before he can make some disparaging comment about the types of people that would lower themselves to hanging out with the likes of me.
Brody comes up behind me and, for the first time in months, I’m semi-glad to see him, because now Andrew won’t tackle me to get the briefcase back.
Although would that be such a bad thing? He does work out a lot, all that lean, sculpted weight on top of me…
“Babe, I refilled your wine.”
I look up at Brody and smile in thanks as I accept the glass. “Perfect. Now we need to get something for Andrew here.”
“Sure,” Brody says with an easy smile. “What are you having?”
I watch as Andrew swallows, his gaze flicking briefly from the briefcase in my hand to the crowd of people behind us and finally back to Brody. Clearly he realizes he’s trapped. “Red wine’s fine.”
“There are already a bunch of bottles open—come take your pick,” Brody says, gesturing in the direction of the drinks table someone’s set up.
Andrew follows Brady, pausing as he passes me and reaching for the briefcase.
I step back before he can reach it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust you not to run away without some incentive to stay.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my problem,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “It would seem that my incentive to leave and my incentive to stay are one and the same.”
Wait, what? What does that mean?
“Hey, Mulroney. Barolo or Bordeaux?” Brody calls.
Andrew walks away to inspect his wine choices, leaving me to stare after him, a little uncomfortable with just how glad I am that he’s staying.
Georgie
TUESDAY NIGHT, LATER
I made an error in judgment.
Not my first, to be sure, but annoying all the same. See, when I asked Andrew to stick around for dinner, I hadn’t anticipated that people might, well…like him.
And by people, I mean my female friends.
I shove a big mouthful of tiramisu in my mouth, pretending to be interested in the delicious dessert, but out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Hailey Miller laughs hysterically at something Andrew’s just told her.
Really? Because I know for a fact that the man’s not even the slightest bit funny.
Hailey apparently disagrees. As did Lynlee, Susannah, and Jen when they had their turns throwing themselves at him earlier.
Marley comes up beside me, draping an arm around my neck and giving me a smacking kiss on the side of my head. “You should have told me, but I’ll forgive you if you give me a bite of that. Calories don’t count when they come from someone else’s plate.”
