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“She lives in my building,” he explained to Katherine.
“Ah. Well, if a girl like that lived in my building, I’d hit on her too. She’s hot,” Katherine said in a loud whisper.
Hot didn’t do Georgiana justice. Not tonight, he thought.
Her light brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, makeup was expertly applied so that her eyes looked huge, her mouth inviting, but it was the dress that did it. It was cut at an angle, held on one shoulder by a thin strap, falling from mid-thigh to her knee in an uneven hem that utterly suited her.
It was the color that really got him, though. Red. For him.
She was hot, yes, and everyone had noticed. But he saw beyond that to her sharp wit, huge heart, and quick-to-laugh humor.
She wasn’t just hot. She was enchanting.
And he was enchanted.
“Want to talk about it?” Katherine asked, nudging his shoulder playfully with hers.
“Shut up, Katherine,” he said with a slight smile.
She smiled back. “For real, though, it’s nice seeing you happy.”
“I’ve always been happy.”
“Mm.” She tilted her head from side to side, silently calling his bluff. “Not like this.”
No, he thought. He hadn’t been happy like this.
But instead of the thought lifting him, he felt a quick stab of depression. If his career had taught him anything, it was that while all relationships hit a pinnacle of joy, there was only ever one way to go.
Down.
And if anyone could coax him to think differently, to hope, it would be Georgiana Watkins, but…
She didn’t have all the information. Andrew did.
“Katherine,” he said, before he could stop himself, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she said, looking pleased. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. You have any idea what it’s like to try to mentor someone who’s thirteen years your junior only to find out he’s ahead of you in just about every way? Let me be your Yoda, just once.”
He dragged his eyes away from Georgiana and looked at his friend. “What do you do when you’ve got information that can and will hurt someone, but it’s not yours to tell?”
Her smile slipped a little. “Couldn’t have given me an easy one, huh?”
“Sorry.”
“Well.” She blew out a breath, tapping her nails on her wineglass. “You’re not going to like this, but there’s not much you can do, unfortunately. If you really, truly can’t warn them about what’s coming, the best you can do is situate yourself in their life to support them when the pain comes. And…” She broke off.
“And?” he prodded, his voice slightly desperate.
“You should probably prepare yourself,” she said quietly.
He swallowed. “For?”
“Women don’t like secrets, Mulroney,” she said kindly. “Even the ones that we logically know are necessary. They break our heart.”
“Well,” he muttered. “Shit.”
“Shit,” she repeated in solidarity.
