Chapter 31
Chapter
The venue for Tasha and Annabel’s wedding celebration is at the top of the hotel, in a round room with tall glass windows that reveal an awe-inspiring view of Washington, DC.
“Wow,” I mutter, gazing across the collection of tables and a dance floor. “That is one hell of a view.”
George lets out a kind of grumbled grunt as an answer. I glance up to find him looking anywhere but at the city skyline. There’s a grumpier-than-normal cast to his face, and I could swear there’s a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Then the connection clicks in my mind.
“Is this bothering you? The height?” I slip my hand into his, lacing our fingers together.
He gives me a squeeze, his tight mouth managing to curve into a smile. “I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “But if we could avoid the edges, that’d be great.”
“Of course.”
“This is helping.” He reaches over with his free hand to give a gentle tug on the skirt of my dress. “Very distracting.”
Warmth travels up my neck as I mentally play back the moment I stepped out of the bathroom in the sky blue A-line dress I found at Goodwill a few months after prom season last year.
George had stopped in the middle of knotting his tie, his entire body going still as he stared.
I’d smoothed my hands over the skirt, worried there was a stain on the fabric I hadn’t noticed.
“Beautiful,” he’d sighed. “Do we have to go? Can’t I just lie on the bed, and you straddle me in that dress, and we stay like that all night?”
My core clenched, as if in agreement, but I knew Darla would gut me if I was a no-show. So I did my best to hide how horny his fancy clothes were making me, too.
“All night?” I’d tutted. “I don’t know what kind of Viagra you’re popping, but I need some food after that shower session. Party now, sex later.”
He’d groaned and pretended to collapse on the bed, and I had to laughingly drag him out of the room so we weren’t late.
“You like my outfit?” I swing my hips, encouraging the silky skirts to swish around my thighs. “Did you know this dress and these heels are all I’m wearing?”
It takes him a beat, but then George’s eyes go wide and a strangled noise sounds from deep in his throat.
“You—” he starts, only to get cut off by a smiling couple stepping up to us.
“George! Look at you. So handsome in your suit.” The woman reaches out to brush her hands over his shoulders in an affectionate gesture.
She’s stunning in her floor-length fitted gown of petal pink silk that contrasts beautifully with her ebony skin tone.
Pins with what look like real pearls hold her black hair tight to her skull before allowing the curls to spring into a small halo at the back of her head.
Her companion stands just behind her, a middle-aged white man with salt-and-pepper hair, a thick yet sculpted beard, and an easy grin he shares between us.
The woman turns her smile on me. “Introduce me to your lovely date.”
“Beth, this is Lorna and Ethan Baylor. Lorna, Ethan, this is Beth Lundberg.”
My hand tightens in George’s as I realize I’m facing the third side of the BBN triangle.
And I watch as the two of them realize who I am, although it takes them a moment longer. Lorna’s brows dip in thoughtfulness, then shoot up in shock, only to lower once more as her expression turns…soft. That’s the only way I can think to describe it.
Ethan, even through his facial hair, gives off an air of regret.
“Beth. Of course. Shawn’s sister,” the man murmurs, and he gets a point for not calling me Karl Newton’s daughter. “He talks about you all the time, you know?”
“I…” I don’t actually.
“And Cornfield’s. He says it’s the best diner,” Lorna adds. “We’d love to come by sometime. Have the Shawn Special.”
George chuckles, and some of the tension eases from my spine. “He told you there’s a Shawn Special?” I ask.
“Is there not?”
“Not officially.” As I answer, George slips his arms around my waist. “But I bet he’s hoping it’ll get added to the menu if people start asking for it. I’m sorry to tell you, but I think Shawn is using you to push his agenda.”
Lorna’s lips twist in a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “That boy.”
“There is The Bunsen special, though.” I reach back and tug on George’s tie, surprising myself with the casual move. With how comfortable I am in the moment, talking to these BBN people with George at my back.
Shouldn’t I hate them on principle? Am I betraying Mom by being pleasant?
Ethan’s eyes track the movement of my hand, then fall to George’s possessive hold. Before I can brace for a judgmental comment, a wide grin splits across his face.
“You two? You’re together?” Mr. Baylor lurches forward and claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “That’s fantastic!”
Shock steals any possible response.
“It is.” George traces a thumb over the material on my waist, heating my skin through the fabric.
“You make a lovely couple.” Lorna slips her hands around her husband’s arm and beams at us. “We’re so happy you both came. That you’re together.” The married couple glance at each other then, and I could swear they relax.
This is not what I expected when encountering BBN people.
What if they don’t know everything that went down with my mom?
I wonder if maybe there’s the possibility that it wasn’t the entire company that had turned on Charlotte Lundberg. Could it have been that Karl Newton just made it seem that way? If he and HR were the only ones she communicated with, he could have cast whatever light he wanted to on the situation.
The idea is so huge I can’t wrap my mind around it, so I tuck it away to ponder later.
The Baylors thank us again for attending their daughter’s celebration, then head off to greet other guests.
“You still hungry?” George asks after pressing his lips to the sensitive skin just behind my ear.
I shiver, and my answer comes out more suggestive than I mean it to. “Yes.”
His chuckle is strained, but he doesn’t try to drag me off to ravish me, instead heading for a table.
Luckily, there don’t seem to be any assigned seats, so we settle at a six-top near the dance floor where George can sit with his back facing the window.
Or at least the closest window. There’s almost a three-sixty view.
Waitstaff glide around the gathering to offer champagne, which I accept eagerly. The bubbly alcohol fizzes pleasantly on my tongue, and I give in to the urge to lean my shoulder against George’s. To support him, of course.
So far nothing bad has come of me being here, and I’m going to try to enjoy this night as much as possible.
George settles his hand on my waist, his fingers stroking the silky material of my dress until I can feel the heat of his touch through the fabric once more. My outfit might not be from a designer store, but I think I’ve pulled off an acceptable look for this gathering.
No reason for anyone to be ashamed to be seen with me.
“Shawn and Darla are here,” George murmurs close to my ear, tipping his chin toward the entrance. They’re easy to spot. My brother always makes a striking view, with his tall stature and how he wears a suit easily.
But Darla is the one who draws the eye in their pair.
“She wore her heartbreaker.” I grin at the sight of the familiar dress.
On her birthday a few years ago, we drove into the city to visit secondhand stores.
Darla wanted a kickass dress, and she found one.
Siren red, fitted sweetheart bodice, straps draped off her shoulders, and a short tulle skirt that gives ballerina vibes.
She’s curled and pinned her blond hair into an elegant style and painted her lips the same shade as her dress.
My friend is a knockout. Proof is the dazed look my brother wears as he follows a step behind her, his eyes sometimes dropping down to her mile-long legs only to pop back up.
“She’s evil. Trying to kill my best friend with a heart attack.” George’s smirk doesn’t convey any sense of true worry for Shawn.
Darla spots me and heads our way, but not before turning to grab Shawn’s wrist and dragging him after her. As if there was any possibility he’d choose a direction she wasn’t walking in.
“Hey,” she greets us.
Shawn doesn’t say anything, too focused on where Darla is touching him. She sighs, lets him go, and snaps her fingers in front of his face. “Focus, Newton. Say hello to your sister.”
“What?” He blinks my way, some of the dazed expression clearing. “Oh, Beth! Hey. George. You guys made it all right?”
“Yep,” I say. “We just got here.” And I hope my cheerful delivery doesn’t give away exactly what we were doing in our hotel room less than an hour ago.
“Come on, Beth. Let’s go to the bathroom,” Darla suggests. Or more like demands. “We’ll freshen up. Count our money. Snort some cocaine. You know, do what rich people do in powder rooms.”
Before I can process her dry joke, Darla is already dragging me up from my chair and away. I hope Shawn doesn’t try to follow us. He needs to stay at the table and distract George from how high up we are.
“Did you chug a gallon of water on your way here?” I ask as Darla pulls me into the ladies’ room. “Is that why you need to pee so badly?”
She doesn’t answer, just pushes in the stall doors, finding them all empty. We’re alone, and having established that, Darla whirls on me.
“How are you really doing?” she demands. “Has anyone said anything shitty to you?”
“What? No.” I sigh at her skeptical look. “I just got here. Like right before you.” I fiddle with my sky blue skirts. “I’m not saying there won’t be people who don’t want me here, but I haven’t run into them yet.”
Darla studies me for another breath, then gives a sharp nod. “You look hot, just FYI.”
I grin in response. “So do you. Heartbreaker dress, huh? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you might want to impress my brother.”
Darla scoffs. “The hell I do.”
I opt not to respond, sensing that past her natural defensive answer, my friend might have something more to say.