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Andrew, Patrick, Mr. Dixon, and Mrs. Quinn chorused their hellos. Holt was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Ella?”
“With Marlow.”
Marlow is already here?“I thought she wasn’t coming until Friday?”
“She showed up too, but didn’t feel up to dinner.” Trish leaned in. “I think she was afraid to be around her brothers.”
“Can’t say I blame her.”
My gaze drifted around the table. There were only two empty chairs, and I was quickly ushered into one of them. I mentally chastised myself for wondering where Holt was and focused on what Hayden had advised. Trish. I was here for Trish. The rest I’d deal with later. Or never. Whichever came first.
“How’d you get off work?” Patrick asked, pouring me a glass of champagne.
I sucked some down, the bubbles immediately going to my head. “Hayden said I was already here, so I might as well come now. What have I missed?”
“The best steak I’ve ever had,” Trish said, leaning her head on Andrew’s shoulder.
“Glad you liked it, Bright Side.”
“Oh come on, Baker. I expected more from you.” Patrick inclined his glass of whiskey toward me. “Ask what you really want to know.”
“I did.”
He tsked. “He’s over at the bar with some of his friends.”
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
“Who?” I feigned ignorance, and Patrick looked unimpressed.
“Holt.” Just his name sent a spark of heat and a rush of hurt through me. “You should go say hi.”
“You should stir up your own trouble,” I said under my breath.
“We’re glad you made it,” Mr. Dixon said, lifting his glass to me.
He and Mrs. Quinn were pretty cozy, his arm around her shoulder.
“Me too,” I said honestly.
After another glass of champagne,my nerves unwound and I began to relax. Marlow, Holt, Blake, and Ella’s absence were noticeable, but the mood was light. I was happy for my friend.Friends. Andrew was part of that now too.
The pull toward the bar became too much the more alcohol I consumed. I looked over my shoulder, disappointed dancing couples were all I could see.
One shuffled to the side, giving me a clear line of sight. To Holt.
And the woman latched onto him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Holt
“To Dixon.For finally getting his ass back where he belongs.”
Roman raised his beer, Briggs and Clark doing the same. I pasted on an artificial smile and clinked my bottle neck with theirs.
Briggs slapped me on the back. “Whatever vacation you’ve got left, take it. There’s a bunch of shit work waiting on you.”
