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Conor stood as well. “What’s your rush? It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re only an hour away from midnight. I was hoping you’d join me for a drink in the VIP area.”
Matt shook his head, ready to give his regrets, but Conor cut him off.
“I need help increasing the Russo headcount because Gage has dragged too many Morettis along with him tonight.”
Matt wondered if Liza was included in that crowd. The self-destructive part of himself hoped she was. Then his brain engaged, and he prayed to God she wasn’t.
He’d had two weeks to get his head screwed on straight over Liza Moretti, and he’d made zero headway. If he was smart, he’d get the hell out of there until he felt ready to do what needed to be done.
For most of his adult life, Matt restricted himself to dating women he stood no danger of falling in love with. It was his only requirement when asking a woman out. It was why Patricia had fit the bill as a plus-one. Until the night of the Snowflake Gala, she’d been tolerable, and while they didn’t set the sheets on fire, she was a decent lover. Matt didn’t take women to bed for any reason other than to sate his physical needs.
Liza, however, fell into a completely different category. She was intelligent, compassionate, and beautiful, and sex with her had been a goddamn religious experience. He’d never considered what his “type” was because he wasn’t looking for it. Now, he could see that Liza was it, which made her dangerous.
So he should go home now…instead of saying, “I can stay for one drink.”
Shit.
“Great!” Once again, Conor looked a little too surprised, but there was no denying his kid brother was pleased, and that thought warmed Matt. He made a mental note to try to spend more time with his brothers outside of work. He’d liked the way they were with each other on Christmas Eve, and while he didn’t hold out hope that the three of them could return to the same close relationship they’d had as kids, he wouldn’t mind having conversations with them that didn’t revolve around business deals.
Conor slapped Matt on the shoulder as they left the office, walking downstairs to the roped-off section reserved for special guests.
“Only Gage could convince me to host a bunch of Morettis in my VIP section,” Conor murmured as they walked over to the bar and ordered drinks. “I’d hoped to celebrate with a lot less fanfare and people. Original invitation was meant to include just you, me, Gage, and Penny. So much for that,” he grumbled.
While Gage was an open book, Conor was the quiet loner, always in his room with his books when they were kids, or now—as an adult—choosing to work in his office here rather than keeping one in the Russo Enterprises building.
Matt thanked the bartender for the Scotch then drifted over to the balcony. The second-floor VIP section overlooked a large part of the club, including the dance floor.
Matt let his gaze travel over the mass of bodies bumping and grinding. He pretended he was watching the dancers, even though he knew he was looking for her.
And then, he found her.
She was in the middle of a circle of her friends, laughing and dancing. Matt studied the group, spotting Penny and Gage, Toby and Rich—two of Russo Enterprises’ IT guys. Liza’s cousins, Luca and Joey, were also there, as well as another man he didn’t recognize.
When the current song ended, another fast-paced one taking its place, most of the group peeled off, leaving the floor. The only ones who remained were Joey, who’d found a woman to dance with, and Liza, who’d partnered up with the stranger.
The attractive man wrapped his arms around Liza’s waist, pulling her closer, and while Matt could admit the dance was more friendly than sexy, he still found himself clenching his teeth, his jaw locked tight.
Voices behind him forced him to look away as Gage approached.
“Hey, Matt. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Penny followed Gage, giving Matt an unexpected hug. While he was very fond of his brother’s wife, their relationship as in-laws was still in that “getting to know each other better” phase.
She wrapped a supportive arm around Gage’s waist when he stumbled a bit. “Next drink is water, Gage, or you’re gonna have the mother of hangovers tomorrow.”
Gage bopped Penny’s nose playfully. “I think the hangover is a foregone conclusion.”
“Yeah. Probably. But better try to save yourself. I’ll go get some water. You want anything from the bar?” Penny asked Matt.
Matt shook his head, holding up his still-full glass of Scotch. Gage pointed to Matt’s drink, silently asking for the same, but Penny shook her head. “Water.”
She walked away as Gage stepped next to him at the railing.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Gage bumped shoulders with him. It was a friendly, casual gesture, and it made Matt smile.
“You’re clearly wasted,” Matt teased.
Gage laughed. “I’m sober as a stone…ish. Penny and I are celebrating.”
