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But no. Ian would be fast asleep, because he had to wake up early to work at the gym. Ian had a wedding to get ready for, a future wife to focus on. Ian was busy with his own life.
Brendan dropped the phone on the passenger seat and started the engine. In the window above Sonia’s front door, he saw a light shining.
11
Tuesday
Five days before the wedding
9:13 p.m.
“So, any news on those grant proposals?” Trevor wanted to know.
“Not yet,” Sonia muttered, glancing around the crowded theater lobby.
“It’ll come,” Elena said reassuringly. “We’ll stay afloat. I have a good feeling about it.”
They were at a Shakespeare Free-For-All performance ofHamlet.Since none of them had money to spend on entertainment, Elena had compiled a list of free summer events, insisting they check out as many as possible. It was intermission right now, and the lobby buzzed with conversation as people mingled and chatted.
This was the Washington, DC that Sonia loved. The place she’d grown up with, visiting her grandmother during the summers. Alive and colorful, and totally different from the stuffy, overworked Hill that Brendan seemed to think was the center of the universe.
Sonia’s stomach rumbled, and she looked longingly at the concessions table. There were pyramids of plastic-wrapped brownies and bags of potato chips, none of it healthy and all of it overpriced. But she was on the verge of breaking down and buying half the snacks.
She’d barely touched dinner, though she’d cooked for Adrienne as usual. When she wasn’t worrying about the dance company, she was remembering the heat of Brendan’s body. His hands on her breasts, his weight between her thighs. His lips on her neck. It made her feel hot and shivery and giddy, which was completely unnerving. She’d never allowed a man to get under her skin like this.
“Do we have any money at all for the next season?” Trevor interjected. Elena, tracking Sonia’s eyes to the concessions table, pulled a bag of almonds from her purse.
Sonia helped herself to a handful and arched an eyebrow at Trevor. “If you’re going to saywe,try raising money yourself.”
“We’re all in this together,” Elena began, but Trevor interrupted.
“Sonia, maybeyoucan try being nicer. Actually, you know, connect with some people who have deep pockets and want to see our baby dance company thrive, instead of just applying for grants? Bring a personal touch. Convince. Persuade. Flatter. Schmooze.”
Sonia folded her arms, glancing around the crowded lobby. “You know I’m not good at that shit.”
Elena gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Well, you’re notterribleat it.” Trevor coughed loudly, and Elena shot him a look.
“Look, Trevor,” Sonia began. “What you’re talking about — the personal touch, the making nice—” Her stomach churned. Those were one hundred percent Brendan O’Brian’s department. Not hers.
She raked a hand through her hair, remembering his offer to help. It had come after he’d fucked the absolute shit out of her last night. She’d already given him what he wanted. Was it possible that he didn’t have a motive? That he’d offered his time — which he didn’t seem to have much of — purely out of the goodness of his heart?
Unlikely.
As she turned to survey the busy lobby, the movement made her wince. She’d been dismissive about the after-effects with Brendan, but she was, in fact, sore. He was big, and he liked to fuck deep.
She’d downplayed how active her day would be to him, too. Though the company’s season was over, she still needed to go to dance classes to stay in shape for when the company started rehearsing again.
If it did.
This afternoon, she’d dropped into an open class that ended up being more intense than she expected. The stretches stung. The twinges in her thighs persisted. Her hamstrings burned from all the sprints around her house. The class focused on leaps and jumps, and every time she opened her legs to soar through the air, it felt like Brendan was fucking her all over again.
It was extremely distracting. Rude of him, really, to hound her when he wasn’t around. Sure, she’d offered herself, but she hadn’t expected his presence to make itself constantly known, twenty-four hours a day.
“Hey, look!” Elena grabbed her hand. “It’s Marco.”
“Marco?” Sonia blinked.
“Marco,”Trevor said with a grin, pointing across the lobby to a dark-haired man in the concessions line who was intently studying his phone. “That guy you went out with last winter?”
