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“Remind me again, Brad Sexton is your mentor, and his wife is…” She closed her eyes, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought. “Angela. Then there’s the investors: Justin, who’s single but will bring a date we’ll never meet again. Kerry, who’s married to Jack, and Adam and his partner, Shannon.”
I held back a laugh. “Exactly, but considering it’s your first time meeting them, none of them expect you to have a full dossier.”
Rather than a relaxing trip to the city, Nora had peppered me with questions about the people she’d be meeting. I’d struggled to recall spouse’s names, let alone how they met and where they vacationed. Nora had finally lapsed into silence, my phone in her hand as she scrolled through their social media accounts. Still, her inquisitive questions reminded me exactly why I needed Nora, not just wanted her.
“As I recall, part of our deal was that I help you with the investors. I want to make a good first impression.” She opened her purse, reapplying the pale pink lipstick she wore and rechecking her hair in the mirror.
“They’ll love you,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips.
How could they not? I was certainly smitten with her.
The traffic into the city had been heavier than expected, and we had the driver drop us off without stopping at the hotel. Any other week, I would have texted Brad, blown off the meal, and met him in the morning, but Nora had been adamant that we attend. We were dressed for dinner, anyway. Why not go?
And logically, that made sense. Only, after the wedding and the car ride, I’d been married to Nora for less than two days and had barely spent any time with her.
She straightened her back and offered her hand. “Alright, ready to play newlyweds?”
“More than ready,” I answered. I interlaced our fingers gently, careful not to wrench her wrist.
She placed her opposite hand on my arm, walking close enough so her dress brushed my pant legs. I gave Brad’s name at the hostess stand and followed the woman to the back of the restaurant. We walked past the crowded tables made of oak and the open concept kitchen, where chefs in white hats and aprons stood in a brigade firing all manner of meats. The hostess slipped through an opening in the wood paneled walls and into a hidden room at the back of the restaurant.
The walls muffled the gentle hum of classical music in the dining room. Hunting trophies decorated one side of the room, while the other held wine racks that stretched from the floor to the vaulted ceilings, a pane of glass separating the seated diners from the bottles.
“Andrew, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.” Brad stood, a smile on his face. He was dressed impeccably, his suit custom-made in Italy. Unlike other investors holding ten-digit bank accounts, Brad had a natural charisma and effortless charm that captivated others. Sitting at the head of the table, holding court over a bevy of angel investors who craved what he’d already attained, no one could deny that he was in charge. He was always the person holding the reins.
Why he’d chosen to mentor me, I’d never really understood. Despite my perceived wealth in Franklin Notch, outside of the tiny mountain town, my name amounted to nothing.
But Brad claimed to see something in me. Himself.
I didn’t believe him, but I was grateful for his mistake.
“You brought a date.” Brad lifted an eyebrow.
In the five years we’d known each other, I hadn’t brought so much as a friend to our meetings. I’d considered calling and inviting him to the wedding, but dismissed the idea just as quickly, unable to picture Brad in Franklin Notch.
Nora squeezed my hand before releasing it, stepping forward. “So nice to finally meet you. I’m Nora.”
She held out her hand. Before Brad could shake it, his wife, Angela, took Nora’s left hand.
“Is that a ring?”
Nora blushed, letting Angela turn her palm so my emerald ring sparkled in the low lights.
“I’d like to introduce you all to Nora Stewart, my wife,” I said, the words tinged with pride I didn’t deserve, but made its way into my voice anyway.
Brad’s eyes narrowed, searching mine curiously before his face bloomed into a smile. “Well, congratulations.”
He ordered a bottle of champagne that probably cost more than the car service I took to get to the city and sat Nora and me at the center of the table.
“Andrew, how long have you been keeping her from us?” Angela asked, her bleached blonde eyebrows raised as she ran a manicured finger over the rim of her wine glass.
Brad’s second wife, Angela, couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me. But, as the daughter of a shipping magnate and a beauty queen, she possessed a self-confidence built through years of finishing school, boarding school, and an Ivy League education, that put me on edge.
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Nora interjected before I had a chance. “We’d been dating for over a year, and I’ve been hesitant to tag along, just being the girlfriend and all.”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “But now you’re his wife? That’s awful sudden.”
Brad laughed—a boisterous, full laugh that dissipated the lingering tension. He leaned across the corner of the table and rubbed his wife’s shoulder. “Now, darling, you had a ring on your finger after six months. It sounds to me like Andrew and Nora took their time.”
