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We both laugh at that, and Anthony smiles, even if the look he gives me is full of speculation. He only knows me as the non-singing, post-Robin Summer. Posie is soon swept along on the tide of more friends come to celebrate her, so Anthony and I chat with some of my other college friends.
Well, I chat. Anthony chimes in on occasion, but he’s mainly a quiet, stable presence beside me.
It’s at least twenty minutes until I see Robin for the first time.
His hair is pushed back, disheveled flannel shirt front-tucked into a pair of jeans. I know they both cost more than they look.
My fingers tighten around my glass of wine. Anthony shifts, bending down so his mouth rests against my ear.
“What’s happened?” he murmurs.
“My ex is here.”
His hand slides to my low back. “The asshole.”
The heartfelt epitaph falls naturally from his lips and I laugh, looking away from Robin to meet Anthony’s dark gaze. “Yeah, that very one.”
“How do you feel?”
“Happy.”
His eyebrows knit. “Happy?”
“Yes. Happy I’m not with him anymore. Happy I’m with you.”
Anthony’s thumb rubs a small caress through my dress. “Ah,” he says.
“That’s it?”
His lip curls, but as he bends and brushes my hair back, the heat in his voice is unmistakable. “Yes, Summer. That’s it. Unless you want me to show you howhappyI am in front of all your college friends.”
I sway a little on my wedge heels. “Let’s go home,” I tell him.
His eyes dance as he lifts his head. “Anything you want, but we can stay, if you’d like.”
I glance to where Posie is sitting, Ben’s arm around her waist and a colleague from the Philharmonic beside her. There are more than enough people here to celebrate her and we have a dinner scheduled in a few days, just the two of us.
“Let’s go,” I repeat, standing on my tiptoes to get closer to him. “Besides, Ace can’t be alone for too long.”
“Oh yes,” he agrees. “Let’s go home for Ace’s sake.”
I kiss him, loving the pleased surprise in his eyes. “Come on then, Winter.”
We don’t make it far before Robin intercepts us. He’s holding a Whiskey Sour in one hand. I remember once drinking them reluctantly with him, because he so often ordered for me.
How had I ever been with someone like that?
The me I’d been with him feels like the memory of a dream, and not a good one at that.
“Summer,” he says. His gaze slides to Anthony, and the calculating gleam in it is obvious to me now.
“Hi, Robin,” I say.
“You weren’t planning on leaving without saying hello to me, were you?” His smile doesn’t show in his eyes.
“I was, actually.”
He blinks. Looks back at me from his perusal of Anthony, and for the first time I remember, it actually seems like he’s seeing me.
