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Luke grins. “Tate was Miss Teen Texas. Don’t let her fool you.”

Tate covers her face with her napkin for a moment like she couldn’t be more embarrassed if she tried. Then she peers out from behind the cream linen. “It was my mom’s passion. I went along with it because I was her only daughter and…” She shrugs as she replaces the napkin on her lap. “I was pretty good at it, but it was never my thing.”

“What was your thing?”

She frowns, confused by the question.

I smile, letting her know it’s not that serious; this isn’t a job interview.

“Does getting carted around to my brother’s baseball tournaments count as a hobby? I did love watching him play.” She looks over at Luke and winks. “Still do, actually.”

He laughs. “You were good at everything you tried, Tate. Dance, cheer, baseball. I guess you picked up running in high school too, right?”

She nods. “True, but I’ve never competed in that, short of a few half-marathons.”

“It’s probably better that way,” I assure her.

“I agree. I can get…competitive.”

“Oh really?”

Luke pipes up, looking at his sister. “It’s totally obvious to anyone who’s ever been around you for half a second that you play to win in everything you do.”

She bumps her shoulder into his and narrows her eyes playfully. “Watch it.”

An announcer states that the dinner program will be starting soon, and Luke stands and excuses himself to use the restroom. Dustin’s enthralled in conversation with the woman on his right, which means Tate and I are left to our own devices.

I don’t want to look at her, but I can’t help it.

She lifts her wine glass to her lips and sips, smiling as she does it.

“Stop staring at me,” she chides teasingly.

I can’t.

She’s stunning. Every detail is worth memorizing. The little hollow above her collarbones. The thin sparkly straps sliding over her smooth shoulders. Her red lips.

“You look beautiful.”

She closes her eyes, briefly reveling in my words, then she sets down her glass.

I like this. I like being able to tell her exactly how I feel. We got off on the wrong foot. All the stuff with Michael…the jealousy…

“Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say the same. You wear a tuxedo impossibly well. It should be criminal.” I grin, and she groans. “Don’t do that. It’s worse with the dimples.”

I try to flatten my mouth into a stern line, but I don’t succeed.

“Would you believe this is my first tuxedo?”

Her eyebrows shoot up like she finds that hard to believe. “Well it won’t be your last. Designers will see photos of you tonight and clamber over themselves to dress you for your next gala. Tom Ford will be beating down your door, you watch.”

“Yeah?” I hum, sort of disinterested in the idea. “I don’t care about any of that.”

She peers over at me thoughtfully, too long even. I almost can’t resist the urge to shift in my chair.

Then she says, simply, “Well, even still, you should send a photo to your dad. Make sure he sees how handsome you look. Do you take after him?”

“Some, yes. He’s not quite as tall.”

“Do you have to look at my mouth while you’re talking?”

I force my gaze up to her eyes. “I can’t help it. What shade is that?”

She lifts a shoulder. “How should I know? Some delicious shade of red judging by that gleam in your eyes.”

“How’s Michael?”

She swallows and looks away, and it’s as if a partition has gone up between us. “I don’t want to talk about Michael.”

“Michael?” Luke asks, reclaiming his seat at the table.

Tate huffs in annoyance. “No. Forget it. I won’t let the two of you gang up on me.”

Luke looks at me with a mischievous smile. “I didn’t realize Grant and I were on the same team. Does he not like Michael either?”

Tate rolls her eyes and grabs for her wine. “Last I checked, neither one of you should be concerned about my love life.”

If Luke only knew…

“Oh look,” she continues drolly, “someone’s coming on stage. We should pay attention so they don’t think we’re rude.”

She’s saved by the presenter. Dinner includes a speech from the chairman of the library’s board of trustees and one from New York City’s mayor highlighting his own experiences using public libraries as a child growing up in Brooklyn. He then introduces this year’s charitable honorees, and they each take to the stage one at a time to discuss how this gala raises critical funds to support New York City neighborhoods through educational programming and vast research collections. Most importantly, support for this event ensures that library resources and services remain freely available for communities who need them the most.

It’s a powerful evening, and when they open up donations via an app on our phones, it’s apparent everyone’s in a giving mood. As money pours in, names flash across the screen onstage.

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