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Reese lights up at the sight of her. “All I need is some gold to dig.”
She smiles back at him. “Pizza and Netflix are solid gold to me.”
I smother a snort. Martinique must really like the look of Reese because she ripped a strip off the last guy who took her to a second-tier steakhouse. She’s got Tiffany tastes on a Target budget, and usually it’s her boyfriends who make up the difference.
I warned her that Reese is indeed in the ninety-nine percent of actors who are broke, but she agreed to the date anyway, based mostly off hotness and the ridiculously slim likelihood that it might lead to us marrying twins.
She doesn’t seem to be regretting her choice. She links arms with Reese. “Want to buy me a free drink?”
“As many as you can handle.”
Blowing us a kiss, Martinique disappears into the crowd with Sully’s already-stunned brother.
“Nice work,” Sully says. “You gonna get a job as a professional matchmaker?”
“Let’s see how they feel by the end of the night before I start switching careers.”
“If chef and matchmaker don’t work out, you could be a full-time party planner.” He gives an appreciative nod to the sparkly green decorations plastered all over every inch of the house. “This is incredible.”
“That was mostly Martinique?—“
“Don’t try to be modest with me, I know your touch.” He indicates the upside-down forest of emerald tinsel dripping from the ceiling, spangled with fairy lights. “I know who came up with that.”
I flush with pleasure, as much from the look he gives me as the way he recognizes my fingerprints. Sully makes me feel special. He makes me feel like the things I create are valuable, thatI’mvaluable.
“We went all out—I’m hoping if things go well tonight, that’ll put Jessica in a good mood, and then Angus will be a in an even better mood for your meeting tomorrow.”
Bright and early Monday morning, Sully is finally showing Angus the property he owns. Everything rides on this—tomorrow, Angus has to fall in love.
Sullivan seemed confident every step of the way, but now his expression is uneasy.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “You’re exactly right. Tonight, the plan is to soothe and flatter Angus and make sure Jessica feels like the Queen of Pop.”
“Shouldn’t be too difficult…”
But as I gaze across the sea of faces, I spy something strange: a familiar face I haven’t seen in a very long time.
“Is that Amber Patterson?”
Sully looks where I’m pointing, his thick black brows drawing together. “Yeah, it is.”
Amber attended Piedmont Prep the same year as us.
“I haven’t seen her in ages. Wonder what she’s doing here?”
“Hm.” Sullivan scans the crowd, his frown deepening.
Angus grabs my arm. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you! Good to see you, Sullivan.”
The two men shake hands, Angus gripping and pumping Sully’s hand like he’s trying to dredge up water in the desert. He looks like he’s had a few drinks already, face flushed and eyes glassy. From the mile-wide grin, I assume Her Majesty is pleased with the party so far.
“Where’s Jessica?” I ask.
“Out by the pool.”
I spy her through the windows, lounging in a green spangled bikini, holding court to a bevy of admirers, including Corgus, who struggles to maintain the strained smile plastered across his face.
