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“Lochie Fletcher, the owner of this fine establishment.”
“This is your bar?” My eyes widen as I scan the space again. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Considering we’ve been conversing for less than a minute, at what point did you want me to throw that in?”
“Well, Lochie… ” I bow my head with a smile, shaking off my earlier annoyance, “… you got me there. So, how did you know my name?”
He rubs his beard, though it’s neat and well-groomed, accentuating his sharp jawline.
“I was told of the guest list, and you were marked as a VIP.”
“That’s my publicist, over there. The one with the resting bitch face. Chances are, he marked the both of us as VIPs.”
“Let me guess, Eric Kennedy?”
I nod. “Pain in my ass but worth every cent.”
A man joins us, insisting Lochie is introduced to some important people. He excuses himself politely, following the man until an older crowd focuses their attention on him. His smile is flawless as he talks, lighting up his entire face, followed by a hearty laugh.
A few times, I catch him in a stolen glance until a woman wraps her hands around his waist. My ribs grow tight, restricting my breathing, torn between admiring how beautiful she is to my disappointment over the whole situation.
“What’s with the resting bitch face?” Eric asks, returning with a glass of champagne in his hand.
“Same could be said about you.”
“George was flaunting his new client list, and frankly, he can go to hell.”
“My my, Eric, jealousy looks ugly on you.”
“Whatever.” He huffs while adjusting his cuffs to then lift his chin. “There are a few people I want you to meet, including a very handsome heir who happens to own a yacht club in Montauk.”
“Eric, I’m not interested in meeting anyone to hook up with,” I tell him, discouraged by my previous attempt with Lochie.
“Honey, you know what they say about a big boat?”
I raise my brows. “Enlighten me, Eric?”
“Strong stern.”
“What?”
“Back end…”
“I’m waiting for you to connect this to a dick somehow?”
“I was getting there. You just threw me off. But since you asked…”
“No.” I hold my hand up. “I’ve sworn off men. I don’t need to talk about dick, think about dick, let alone get involved with a dick. This year will be dedicated to me.”
Eric stares at me blankly, uninterested in my response. Then, blatantly ignoring me, he links his arm into mine and showcases me around the rooftop like some King Charles Cavalier at a prestigious dog show.
I meet the boat guy, who’s full of himself it pains me to even entertain his advances. At what point he thought his bright white veneers would be a turn-on is beyond me. Even Eric stares rudely until I nudge him to snap out of it.
The night wears on, which includes a speech from Lochie thanking everyone for coming. The guests applaud, followed by a live band. I let out a yawn, noting it’s still early for me.
“Listen, Eric,” I begin with, trying to suppress another yawn on the brink of escaping. “I’m tired. Do you mind if I go?”
“A beauty must get her beauty sleep.”
