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“Lucky us.”
I ignored her fake enthusiasm. “Alright, put out what I should wear. I’ll devour this gift basket while you’re showering.”
“Don’t drink all the wine, please.” She shot me a pleading look as she set out my outfit.
“I’ll bring a glass into the bathroom for you,” I said, tearing open the cellophane on the gift basket and picking through the contents.
Thea would murder me if I spilled wine on my new pants and she’d take at least an hour to dress. I could wait to get changed.
Once I wrestled the cork out of the wine, I opened the bathroom door a sliver and quickly placed it on the counter, keeping my eyes averted from the foggy shower.
“Good news, it’s a white!” I called before retreating into the bedroom.
I grabbed a packet of nuts and the bottle of wine and moved onto the porch. Outside was frigid, but nowhere near the biting cold of the last few weeks. The wind whipped my hair and the bright sun held no warmth. I sat in a wooden rocking chair, enjoying room temperature wine and overly seasoned nuts until Thea turned off the shower and emerged from the bathroom and out onto the balcony“You’re not dressed yet?” she asked as she fastened a diamond earring.
“It’ll take two minutes.” I smiled, my eyes gliding up her body.
Thea always looked nice, even in her depression sweatpants, but sometimes I had a hard time recognizing her immediately. For a moment, she wasn’t Thea, my best friend, my playmate, my sister in every way but blood, but as a beautiful woman. Someone I might lock eyes with while grocery shopping or dropping off the mail. Someone I would want to get to know better. Someone to ask out.
It didn’t happen often and tonight, I blamed the red roses, the wine, the romantic room. I blamed the sapphire blue dress that hugged her body, the view from the rocking chair of her long legs. I shook off that thought fast, because it was Thea. My Thea.
CHAPTER9
Thea
“I’m not wearing a tie, Thea.”Ben brushed my hands off his shirt with an exasperated groan.
“You’d look so good with the tie. It brings this outfit together.” I waved a hand in front of the suit. While I’d styled his clothes without a tie in mind, I’d slipped out of the room and scoped out the lobby, finding over half the men in full suits. I should have packed him a jacket.
“No. If this food is half as good as you claim, I plan on gorging myself and I don’t want a dumb tie choking me all night.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the small amount of hair gel I’d manage to apply before he chased me away.
I frowned, brushing his fingers away so I could smooth his hair back. “I’ll tie it loosely.”
“Hard no,” Ben said, closing the argument.
“Well, you still look really nice,” I said, smoothing the lapel of his jacket with a grin.
“I have a great stylist.” He covered my hand with his, stopping me from fussing with his suit. “Now, come on, let’s go mingle.”
Clearly I’d strained his patience, otherwise he never would have suggested we go talk to the other couples. After Emily broke up with him, he dragged me to every donor dinner and fundraising event, letting me play social butterfly while he faded into the background. Not that Benny wasn’t good at mingling. He had an understated charm and a low-key charisma that allowed him to say shockingly little and still have people walk away thinking, “That Ben, he’s a great guy!” But even then, he never enjoyed being forced to mingle.
Chase did, though.
“You’re really channeling this Chase thing, aren’t you?”
“It’s the only way I’m going to get through the weekend. Unless, of course, you let me ditch drinks and dinner and we climb into that hot tub instead.”
I folded my arms, eyes outside. The sun set over the mountains and a gentle breeze moved the potted plants on the porch. The hot tub was definitely tempting until my stomach rumbled.
“No chance, Chase,” I said, hooking his arm with mine. “Let’s mingle.”
We took the elevator back to the main lobby, navigating to the bar by following the gentle hum of conversation. Soft music filtered through the building, growing louder with each step until we found a sign pointing us to the basement bar.
We took a few steps down a stone lined stairwell, emerging in what looked like a medieval pub. Casks lined one side of the room. A dark wood bar stood at the far end. A bartender in a white shirt and a handlebar mustache took orders while two dozen people or so milled about.
“Drink first?” Ben asked, his breath tickling my ear.
I nodded. He took my arm and led me to the bar. Not finding an empty seat, Ben muscled us into an empty spot at the far end.
