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“It isn’t so bad, is it?” his father asked with a smug smile beneath his mustache. His dad’s goatee reminded Eli of his own beard. He’d missed it and started growing it back. Eli smoothed his facial hair now, taking in his father’s bright red tie. The color reminded him of the dress he’d sent to Isa. He wondered if she’d bothered opening the box.
He missed her so damned much.
“Elijah Crane.” A short, round man with graying hair and a wide smile approached with a hand extended. “Dave Dillon. I was talking with your contractor, Zach.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder at the tall, blond man walking their way. “My company designs kitchens and we’d love to get involved with Refurbs for Vets. Can we talk more? I liked everything you said about rehabilitation not stopping in the hospital. About how real contribution was meaningful contribution.”
“Sounds more regal coming from you.” Eli shook the older man’s hand.
“Thank you for your service,” Dave said, and then turned to Alex. “And yours, sir. I hear you are a Marine as well.”
“I am that.” Alex put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m curious to hear more about your company. Have a drink with me?”
“Dave has deep pockets,” Zach muttered against the mouth of his beer bottle as Alex Crane walked the other man to the bar.
“Dad will find the bottom,” Eli told him.
Zach was dressed in black pants, the collar of his white button-down shirt open. No tie for him.
“Appreciate the intro,” Eli told him. “We’ll take all the contributions we can get.”
“How about another?” Reese asked. At first Eli thought Reese was offering him a refill on his empty scotch, but then he looked up to find a beautiful blonde in a white dress, her bright blue eyes shrewd and assessing. “Penelope Brand, my brother, Eli.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Crane.” She extended her hand and when he shook it, her grip was a hell of a lot stronger than Eli had expected.
“Ms. Brand is the PR specialist I used a few years back when I was vying for CEO,” Reese said. “Now that you’ve accepted the limelight, she’s a great ally to have. If you or any of your staff at Refurbs need public spin, Penelope is your woman.”
“Zachary Ferguson,” came a syrupy introduction.
Eli watched as Zach put on his I’m-a-harmless-country-boy act. Penelope’s eyes narrowed, her jaw set.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ferguson. You stay out of trouble so that Mr. Crane doesn’t have to call me in, okay?” Her smile was as sharp as her assessment of Zach.
“Yeah, that’d be awful,” Zach said, his dimpled smile not budging.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Eli couldn’t take another second of other people flirting around him. He dropped his empty glass onto a tray, strolling toward the bar as he checked out the room. Mostly employees of Crane Hotels were in attendance, though they’d taken their drinks and coffee to the tables, one by one loosening their ties and kicking back to shoot the shit about work.
“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asked.
Eli opened his mouth to say scotch, but a smoky, sensual female voice ordered for him.
“Two Stella Artois. Bottles.”
He turned to find Isa behind him, dressed in a body-hugging, thigh-baring, short red dress. The very dress Merina had promised would be “perfect for her.” Merina was right.
As gorgeous as Isa was with her hair in waves around her shoulders and her gold jewelry understated and winking in the lighting, it was her presence that floored Eli the most.
“Isa.” His voice was a dry croak. “You’re here.”
“Hey, soldier. You didn’t think I’d let your big night pass by without coming to congratulate you, did you?” Her smile shook for a second, giving him a spike of hope that she was here for more than business reasons.
“Nice dress.” He took a step closer to her and her smile vanished. She fiddled with the ring on her right hand in a nervous gesture.
“Did you pick it out yourself?” she asked.
“Merina.”
“She has good taste.”
He kept his eyes on hers, that feeling of falling into them not as scary as it was twenty-four hours ago.
