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“I wasn’t sure. I mean, had a feeling I might be knocked up, but I just took the test this morning to confirm it. We’re not going to officially announce for a little while yet, just to be sure. You’re the first one to know, aside from Tony and his mom, of course.”

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.” I squeeze her hands, feeling elated and yet a tiny bit envious.

When I was seeing Nick, she used to tease me about all of the extravagant places we went, all the romantic things we did. She would jokingly contrast her lifestyle to mine, as if the fantasy I was living in Nick’s Park Avenue penthouse was somehow leagues away from anything she would ever have.

Even before my happiness with Nick came crashing down around me, I knew that what Tasha had with Tony was pretty close to perfect.

“Here’s your wine, Tasha.” The bartender sets the glass down in front of her. When he moves on to greet a new customer, I tilt my head at her in question.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s for you. Obviously, it’s off limits for me now.” She slides the glass next to the iced tea I’ve been nursing since I arrived. “I’m thinking about adding this to our regular list. You’re so good with wine, I’d love your opinion on it first.” A small frown creases her forehead. “And unless I miss my guess, it looks like you could use something a little stronger than what you’re drinking today.”

I won’t argue that. She studies me as I tilt the glass to my lips and taste the smooth red wine.

“How’d the reception go on Friday? You and Blandon have a nice time with all of his stuffy university chums?”

“Brandon,” I say, slanting a wry glance at her. “The reception was great. I must’ve talked with half a dozen art magazines who wanted interviews and photos, and I went home with business cards from two of the best galleries in the city. As for Brandon’s colleagues, they weren’t stuffy at all. They were wonderful. He even introduced me to the dean.”

Tasha’s eyes stay rooted on me as I pause my ramble to take another drink of wine. “Sounds amazing, Ave. So, what am I missing?”

“Nick was there.”

“What?” Her outburst turns several heads at the bar. She leans in closer, dropping her volume to a private level. “What the hell was he doing there?”

I purse my lips. “He had an invitation, just like everyone else,” I say, recalling his slightly annoyed tone when I asked him the same thing that night. “Apparently, Nick’s been generous with donations to the university over the years. Brandon practically fell all over himself with praise when I introduced them.”

“Awkward.”

“A bit,” I agree. “Nick actually had the nerve to ask me to leave the party with him.”

Tasha gapes. “In front of the professor?”

“No. Before that. We bumped into each other while Brandon was circulating. I don’t think Nick was any happier than I was to find out we were in the same place, but that didn’t stop him from acting like there was still something between us. When I told him I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, especially considering where we were, he suggested we leave together.”

“Interesting.”

“If by interesting you mean arrogant, then yeah. He was. Which is typical of him.”

Tasha shrugs. “I don’t suppose he got where he is in life by being shy.”

“No, he got there by looking out for himself and taking whatever he wants.” I narrow my eyes at her as I lift the wineglass to my lips. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Just saying.”

Although it would be a stretch to say that Tasha and Nick were friends, she is familiar with the way he operates in business at least. He’s the reason she’s in charge at Vendange and no longer working behind the bar for the jerk who used to manage the place.

Nick bought the restaurant after we’d been seeing each other for several months. If he hadn’t promptly sold it after our breakup, jettisoning it almost as swiftly as he seemed to purge me from his life, Tasha had been determined to quit in solidarity with me.

I’m glad it didn’t come to that because it’s clear how much she loves her job. She’s invested more than just her time into Vendange. Her personal touches in the restaurant are evident in everything from the upscale clothing style and strong morale of the staff to the innovative menu items and creative wine selections. For Nick’s part, he seemed to understand that too. One of the conditions he placed on the sale was that Tasha was to remain at the helm.

I salute her with my half-empty glass. “This Malbec is excellent, by the way. Is it from Argentina?”

“France,” she says, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “Forget the wine. Tell me more about the party. Aside from being as arrogant as ever, how’d Nick look?”

“Good.” I see no point in trying to deny it. Not with her. I let go of a resigned sigh. “He looked ridiculously good.”

“Ah, fuck. Of course, he did.”

Tasha is well aware of how physical and consuming my attraction to him was. I don’t want to admit that his effect on my senses is still as powerful as ever, but she’d never believe it if I pretended otherwise.

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