Chapter 10 #2
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Walt says, making eyes between Sasha and me like I’m about to take a knee with a small velvet box in my hand.
We stand around in an awkward silence until Walt gets the hint and moves it along. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sasha turns to me with a smile.
“Well, he seems like a tool.”
A loud laugh bursts from my father. Even I have to crack a smile at that.
“He is,” I confirm.
I take Sasha for a lap around the room, stopping to talk to certain people, showing my face, and collecting pieces of industry gossip that I always take with a grain of salt.
People who gossip are generally not picky about who they gossip about or whether the information has any veracity.
I can only imagine the things they’ve said about my father over the years, about me.
The evening goes smoother than I expected. Having Sasha with me is proving to be an asset. She’s pleasant and personable, but she’s shrewd enough to pick up on the bullshit without having the luxury of knowing any of the players.
She doesn’t awkwardly invite me and her on any romantic couples getaways.
Maybe I should have asked my mother to set me up with someone for that dinner. Having Sasha by my side would have been a lot less complicated.
That thought feels like needles under my skin.
An image of Brielle, that red dress peeking out from underneath her heavy blue coat, the rosy tint to her cheeks, steals my thoughts for a moment.
I shake her out of my head and turn my attention back to Sasha just as the lights flick to take our seats.
My father joins us at our table for the dinner-and-speeches part of the night.
I always buy at least four tickets to these things, whether I plan to attend alone or with someone.
It guarantees I don’t have to knock elbows with someone while I’m trying to eat my dinner.
With Sasha on one side of me and my father on the other, it doesn’t seem like I’m going to have that convenience tonight.
“Mr. Edgerton, did you used to be in the advertising industry, too?” Sasha asks.
“A long time ago. I’ve put that behind me now,” my father answers curtly. I know the question that comes next, and I try to catch Sasha’s eye, but she isn’t looking my way. Asking my father why he quit this business only ever ends two ways, and neither of them is pretty.
“Are you doing anything else now or just enjoying retirement?” She smiles.
No “why” or “what happened”?
I breathe a sigh of relief.
My father points a genuine smile at her. “It’s my time to relax and enjoy my golden years. And I get to watch Damian dominate his competition without having to worry about being one of them. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I told Walter Burke that he would wipe the floor with me.”
She looks at me now with a warm grin. My expressionless face masks the pride I feel when he says that.
“What about you, Sasha? What do you do?”
I half expect her to say that she’s a socialite or influencer.
She’s certainly got the face and a body that the camera would love.
But after spending the evening with her, I don’t think a job like that would suit her.
Too much bullshit on social media. I would know—I spend my life keeping up with social trends and relevant platforms.
“I manage the application integrations and data security teams for an athletic apparel corporation.”
I could tell she was smart. I like that about her.
The chair of the organization gets up to the mic to introduce the guest speaker for the night.
The man’s voice drones on as I cut into the tender filet mignon and raise the fork to my mouth.
My eyes snag on a woman across the room.
Her long brown hair, heart-shaped face, and big, expressive eyes make me do a double take.
She reminds me of Brielle. I can see her clearly from here.
It isn’t her, but my eyes scan that way for the rest of the night, catching glimpses of her.
“The dinner is better than I would have thought for a catered meal,” Sasha says quietly next to me, pulling my attention back to her.
“It’s decent,” I concede.
By the time the speaker wraps up, I’m ready to get out of here. We say good night to my father before I lead Sasha out the door. The drive back to her place isn’t as bad at this time of night.
I park in front of her house and get out to walk her to the door.
“Thanks for the evening. I really enjoyed it,” she says.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t something better. My schedule doesn’t have much free time, as you can imagine.”
She wets her lip, her gaze trailing over my face.
I know this look well. She’d welcome a good-night kiss, probably more.
Maybe even an invite inside. I wait for the spark of interest; she’s beautiful, intelligent, well-spoken, pleasant company.
They are all facts that I know about her. On paper, we would be a great match.
We lean toward each other, but out of nowhere, Brielle flashes in my head. Heat flares in my gut, an unwelcome intrusion that halts me in my tracks.
We aren’t actually dating, certainly not in a serious, committed relationship, but this strange feeling like I would be being unfaithful to her has me turning my head at the last second, placing a kiss to Sasha’s cheek.
“Have a good night, Sasha.”
Surprise and disappointment etch her face before she pulls her lips into a smile. “You, too.”
I drive away, cursing this ridiculous arrangement all the way home.