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Her small smile grows as our eyes connect. Hers are a darker shade of brown than her hair, which is almost copper.
I like that she greeted me first without waiting for our fathers to arrange the introductions. It suggests a confidence I wouldn’t have guessed at, based on her pastel outfit and demure demeanor.
I don’t know if I can picture a life with this woman. I can’t imagine her walking down the aisle toward me or kids with the same unusual hue of hair.
But I’m intrigued by her, and it’s honestly expected. I may want what my father is offering, but I don’t want to get married—again—to a stranger. I thought that distaste would color meeting Quinn. Make it impossible to like her. But there’s no resentment as our hands shake.
“Oliver, you remember Leonardo? And his wife, Zara?”
I drop Quinn’s hand and take her father’s, nodding respectfully. “Of course. Wonderful to see you, Leonardo.”
“You too, Oliver.”
“I was disappointed you weren’t able to join us at dinner on Saturday. I’m glad we were able to set this up.”
I nod. “Me too.”
“Did you have a nice time in Vegas?”
My smile doesn’t falter. “I did.”
I’m not surprised my father mentioned where I was last weekend. He would have wanted to brag about my friendship with Garrett.
“Must have been quite the trip.”
I keep smiling and nod before shaking Zara’s hand. A butler enters the room to serve everyone drinks, followed by a couple of maids with trays of appetizers: fancy cheese served with toasted bread, freshly shucked oysters, and caviar with crackers.
Leonardo takes the seat next to me, immediately striking up a conversation about business. The Thompson & Thompson deal was announced today, so I field mostly questions about that, straining to listen to what Quinn is saying to Crew during the pauses.
It sounds like she’s telling Crew about an English soccer team her company worked for.
Crew has always been more interested in sports than I am. He even owns part of an Italian team, which I hear him telling Quinn about.
I wonder if he and Hannah talked about sports.
The thought is sudden and unwelcome. The phone in my pocket feels heavier, like the message with no response is adding to its weight.
I excuse myself about twenty minutes later to use the restroom but end up on the back patio instead. The chill in the air feels like winter, the flicker of outside lights almost ghostlike on the grass and stone pavers. The pool is covered, not that it gets much use in the summer months either. Aside from the staff, my dad lives here alone.
I take a seat on the metal bench that faces a row of bushes that will bloom into blue hydrangeas, tipping my head back and staring at the dark sky. I finally sip at my cognac, the warm alcohol a little more palatable in the evening air.
“Spent part of my engagement party hiding away too.”
Scarlett lifts the hem of her dress as she walks across the stones toward me, her approach nearly silent, even in heels.
She takes a seat on the bench beside me, kicking off her shoes.
My gaze returns to the bushes. “This isn’t my engagement party.”
I wondered how much about this evening my father shared with Crew. It sounds like he didn’t withhold details, which surprises me. He hates to tip his hand early. Make a move before all the pieces are in place. I’m the same way.
Scarlett hums. “I thought you’d do anything to snag CEO. Quinn is pretty, and she seems nice. You could do worse. Youhavedone worse,actually.”
I look over at her, ignoring the dig about Candace. “I don’t care about being CEO,” I lie.
Scarlett smiles. “I told my father I wouldn’t marry you, you know.”
I shake my head. I hadn’t known that. My father was the one who told me; I assumed he was the one who’d made the decision to swap grooms.
