“Uh-huh. I saw you standing off to the side of the pool, ducking around all these beautiful, fabulous people, working like a champ not to make eye contact.” He grinned.
“I mean…you’re not wrong.” My cheek lifted.
“Then I can’t help but wonder…” He raised his eyebrows. “Who brought you here and how much do you hate them?”
Disarmed, I laughed as I replied, “My best friend in the world and so, so much.”
I didn’t immediately remove myself from the conversation, so he pressed on, “I’m Pete.”
“Sadie.”
“Nice to meet you.” Huh. This guy was really trying to make conversation. I guess things like that could happen when you stuck your toe back in the real world. “You’re here to support the Coalition?” he asked.
This was something I could do—make small talk. I just needed to channel my inner bartender. Deep breath. “I believe in the cause, but someone actually brought me here under false pretenses.”
“False pretenses?”
“Yep. I came to meet my best friend’s new guy, but it turns out I accidentally got invited to their first fight.”
“Ahh…so you’re giving them some space? Hiding?”
“Hiding and admiring this genuinely hideous wallpaper…unless, of course, this is your house, in which case the wallpaper is bold and interesting.”
“Not my house. And I agree the Brady Bunch would love this wallpaper.”
I was good with this type of nothing banter. Anything beyond, and I was back to being awkward and uncomfortable.
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you here to support the cause?”
“In a way. I’m part owner of a business that donated an item. The hosts extended an invite to say thanks. And I don’t turn down free food and drinks…and the chance to meet new people.”
Bold. I wasn’t interested, but I could still recognize a clear shot when it came my way. “That’s cool. I mean, that you donated.”
“I can’t take full credit for it. My business partner’s the one who’s always looking for causes to support.” Pete ran his hands through his hair and the gesture reminded me of Renn.
Jesus. Now he was just materializing in my thoughts out of nowhere? Get a grip, Sadie!
“Our basket is over here.” He led me to a table I hadn’t noticed before. “Oh, there’s my partner.” Pointing toward a dimly lit hallway, Pete gestured at a man facing the opposite direction.
No.
The odds.
It simply could not be.
Somehow, thinking about him had conjured him up. I observed the long line of his beautiful, sinewy body as he leaned to examine a basket of puppy items. The fingers lifting a bejeweled collar were so familiar I could practically feel them. He was most definitely agrown man.
“Renn—” Pete called to him.
“Oh, hey, man. I had to give the hosts another copy of our business license. They said you forgot to—”
His words died as he glanced up, startled when he saw me. His eyes drank me in, lingering on my face before falling like silk down my body, slowly, all the way to my metallic heels. I watched his throat work as he took in a breath.
“Sadie?” It was a question and a statement.
We locked gazes, both of us unwittingly intense for a moment before he broke the stalemate with a smile. He looked even better than I remembered in his usual Studio Obscurum t-shirt and jeans, hair undone and curling over his shoulders.
I’d been wondering how it would go the next time we saw each other. And I had assumed that would be at my next appointment, but of course, it was at this random party. At least we were in a semi-private area.
