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Impressive. Her father didn’t do deals with just anyone. “Exciting times for you both.” She flicked her gaze to Seth.
“Absolutely.” The handsome Aussie studied her before asking, “So you own a café?”
“That’s right. Seven Dishes.”
“Their pastries are why I belong to a gym.” Dillon looked ready to say something else but was interrupted by distinct pings coming from his and Seth’s coat pockets.
“Please excuse us, we’re expecting your father’s announcement to go public,” Seth said as the men pulled out their phones.
Dillon scanned his cell. His eyes shone with excitement when he glanced back at Harper. “And there it is. We’ll be fielding press calls for the rest of the evening.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. Losing the chance to get to know Seth was…regrettable. Not that she wasn’t happy for his good fortune.
“I’m sure you can handle any inquiries.” Seth held his brother’s gaze for a long moment, and Harper sensed some silent message had been exchanged.
Dillon’s expression seemed contemplative before his forehead creased with a scowl. “There’s no talking you out of it?”
Out of what?
“Nope.”
Dillon’s sigh sounded resigned. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
Seth raised a brow. “No, unless you need to share something?”
“No, you beat me to it. Lucky bastard.” Dillon turned to Harper. “Enjoy your evening, Harper. I’ll see you tomorrow for my usual.” With a smile, he walked through the throng of players and disappeared.
She stared after Dillon. “Did I miss something?”
“Yeah, but that’s Dillon’s fault for not acting when he had the chance.”
Well, that cleared that up—not.
“Can I get you a drink?” Seth asked.
Harper grinned. At least her sister wouldn’t have to disown her. “I’d love a wine, thanks.”
Seth signaled a waiter, and Harper chose a glass of chardonnay. She studied Seth over the rim of her glass as she sipped the cool liquid.
He waited for her to finish her sip before speaking. “So these fake Rolexes...can we work a good deal on four of them? I’m thinking Christmas presents for my brothers.”
She battled to keep a serious expression as laughter rippled through her voice. “Buyer beware. They come with no guarantee.”
Another one of his slow, devastating smiles spread over Seth’s face. “I’m used to taking risks.”
She just bet he was—and not just because he had grown a successful business worthy of being snapped up by a major conglomerate. Seth had the charm of a riverboat gambler and the sharp gaze of a street fighter. He wore those characteristics like a comfortable pair of jeans.
Seth was refreshing and vastly different from the people attending her father’s little cocktail party. These people hid behind well-constructed facades. The football players kept close to each other, as if there was strength in numbers. The men in suits, outwardly bored yet underneath excited as any kid, wanting to get a few words with their favorite player. And the wives of her father’s rich clients, eyeing the buffet of testosterone and fantasizing about secret autograph sessions in a motel somewhere.
She sighed at the superficiality of it all. When had she become so cynical? She snorted softly. Maybe some of her father had rubbed off on her after all. After years of being an unwilling spectator at his events, she hadn’t managed to escape unscathed.
“I’m guessing from that sigh these parties aren’t your kind of thing.” Seth pointed his glass of beer at the crowd.
Damn, she needed to hide her thoughts better.
“That obvious, huh?” Oh, heck, did he think she found him boring? “It’s me. It’s not you, definitely not … um, I mean, you’re fabulous.” She snapped her mouth shut. Awesome, Harper.
His gaze gleamed with silent laughter.
