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I clear my throat loudly, and they turn to face me, a grin splitting Logan’s cheeks. For someone who extracting a smile from was like getting blood from a stone, his facial muscles have been getting a serious workout these last couple of months. I’m happy for them both, really, because they’re obviously in love. Though, sometimes I wish they’d remember that other people don’t need to be seeing their love in public.
“A little restraint, guys,” I complain, and all they do is laugh at me.
Argh. I really wish Dana would get here. With all my cousins having taken the plunge into coupledom in the last twelve months, I need my friend to quieten these feelings of missing out on something important. I often find myself paired up with her. And I don’t mind at all, because from the day we met, over two-plus years ago when she walked into the Carlson Publishing conference room, I knew that we were going to click. She’s easy to talk to, and more switched on than most other professionals I meet during my workday. Family members excluded of course. That, along with an uncanny ability to make me laugh like no one else until I’m doubled over and gasping for breath, makes her a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with.
Then, like I’ve conjured her up from my thoughts, she appears in the doorway of the transformed warehouse space. A tall, elegant figure in a classic black shift dress like a fair-haired Audrey Hepburn. Suddenly, everything feels lighter, and the tension I was holding in my shoulders relaxes. Allie rushes off to greet her friend, who remains in the doorway, her gaze darting around the room. Something is wrong. But before I can move in the same direction, a thin, tall man in a gray suit appears behind her, placing a possessive hand at her elbow. Who the hell is he? Dana never mentioned she was bringing somebody. Though I guess I haven’t really had a chance to speak to her much this week.
I watch steely eyed as Allie greets them with hugs, then leads them toward the long table laid out with row upon row of champagne flutes waiting to be filled. The guy’s hand is resting way too comfortably on the small of Dana’s back.
Frowning, I turn to Logan and snap out, “Who’s the guy in the gray suit?”
Logan shrugs as expected. “Probably Dana’s date?”
Since when? Date? I barely manage to hold back the comment. My head spins back in the direction of Dana and her date, who is standing so close to her that there’s not even a strip of light between them. Does the guy not understand the concept of personal space? It’s one of Dana’s pet hates and I notice how she angles her body away from him.
When did Dana start dating? In all the time we’ve known each other, she’s never mentioned dating anyone. I guess maybe she has; it would be odd if she hadn’t. After all, she’s a beautiful, clever woman that any guy would be lucky to have beside him. Not showy like most of the women here tonight. But more of a natural beauty, with her long, blond hair, clear blue eyes, and delicate bone structure that gives her an air of fragility and has always tugged at my protective instincts.
Katie slides between us, blocking my view, but I don’t mind because here is someone who can answer my question. “Hey, who’s the guy with Dana?” I blurt out failing to keep my voice neutral.
“His name is Brad, and this is only their third date. So stop glaring at him.”
“I’m not glaring. If anything, I’m frowning,” I grumble, still trying to process the news that this is their third date and I’m only hearing about it now.
Katie punches me in the arm. “Jase, don’t you dare interfere. Dana has finally started dating again, and she doesn’t need you sowing seeds of doubt about her date.” None of this sits well with me, and I take another sip of my drink hoping to quell the dread crawling up my spine.
A grimace presses my lips together into a hard line. “It all seems a bit sudden. And he doesn’t look like Dana’s type.”
Katie folds her arms across her chest. “What would you know about Dana’s type?” she demands. Katie’s been bossing Logan and me around since we were kids, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all those years, it’s when to back down.
I shrug. Besides, Katie’s right, I haven’t a clue and that simple fact has me swallowing past the tightness in my throat. Dana has never said anything about the type of man she would want as a life partner. In fact, in all the hours we’ve spent talking, we’ve never covered the topic of her dating. I gathered early on that something happened to her in the past, and that was somehow holding her back. Now I wish I had delved a little deeper. I know she started seeing a therapist in the last few months. I think it was her New Year’s resolution to sort some issues out. But other than that, I’ve no idea. I’ve been a selfish bastard not wanting to understand her better. Keeping our friendship on the surface for fear that delving deeper might somehow pull us into a relationship that would ultimately drive us apart. I value Dana’s friendship for the precious gift it is.
Katie storms off with a huff, going to join Allie, Dana, and the gray-suited man.
Logan finally opens his mouth. “I’d suggest you don’t have the same conversation with Allie. Those girls are a couple of rottweilers when it comes to protecting Dana.”
“I know, but look at him. He isn’t even wearing a belt with his gray suit.”
About an hour and four whiskeys later, I find myself standing near Brad, and for the first time tonight, Dana is not beside him. It’s my chance to find out who the hell this guy is. Just like the girls, I’m protective of Dana too, and I don’t want some asshole hurting her. Well, that’s what I’m telling myself as I continue to ignore the hard knot burning a hole through my stomach wall.
“Brad, we haven’t met yet.” I thrust my hand out toward him. “Jason Carlson.” I don’t miss the way he winces when we shake. “So you’re Dana’s date,” I add.
Brad looks around the room, probably hoping to be rescued by Dana. “Umm, yes.”
“I didn’t realize she was seeing anyone …” I say, straightening my shoulders to my full height and leaving the comment hanging while I take another sip of my whiskey. He shuffles his feet from side to side, and more than I should, I’m enjoying how uncomfortable he looks. Most people don’t realize I can be as big of an asshole as my moody cousin Logan. I just tend to keep my assholery hidden for special occasions only.
“Sooo, what do you do, Brad?”
“I’m a wealth adviser,” he replies looking at me for the first time. But then Dana appears at his elbow.
“Jason, I see you’ve met Brad.” Her words are coated with more ice than my whiskey.
Dana’s stare never wavers from mine. She’s got more steel in her spine than her date, and probably a firmer grip.
I take another swig from my glass. “Yes. We’ve been … chatting. Brad was telling me about his work.”
Dana looks between Brad and me, her brow wrinkled. But before I can share any more poorly disguised barbs, Brad mumbles some excuse about getting a drink and disappears. At least the guy isn’t stupid.
“You never told me you were dating someone.” My words come out more accusatory than I intend. And her eyes become as hard as two ice chips.
