Page 175 of Bridesmaid By Chance
Actually, I’m not sorry.
Not sorry in the slightest.
“You headed to the club?” he asks, pointing behind us.
“Yes.” I slip my arm over Sloane’s shoulders. “Going to have dinner with Archie and Sheridan and her father.”
“Yeah, me too,” Devin says.
Uhhh…how the hell does that work?
I clear my throat and say, “Don’t you need to be a member to be granted access? And don’t you need to be married to be a member?”
“Terrance actually invited me, used one of his one-time passes.”
“That was nice,” I say through clenched teeth. A one-time pass would have been nice to know about, although that would have only granted me access once and to secure a deal, it isn’t always about the first impression—it’s about multiple impressions over time.
Devin pats his suit jacket and says, “Brought him some expensive cigars as a thank-you. Glad I can spend the evening with you guys as well. We can catch up, Sloane.”
“We can,” she says, but minus the joyful tone that’s in his voice.
“Well, then, I guess we shouldn’t make our hosts wait much longer for us.” I gesture toward the doors. “Lead the way, Devin.”
We enter the club, and because Devin is a guest, he’s pulled into the welcoming room, while Sloane and I slip right in. I am sure to pull her toward the stairs and straight up to the bar where I know Archie and Sheridan are waiting.
“I can feel the anger pouring off you,” Sloane whispers.
And because she’s right, I pull her to the side, off in a corner, and whisper, “Where the fuck does he come off just…coming to the club, as if there aren’t requirements to grant access?”
“It sounds like Terrance invited him.”
“Why? He offers no value to society.”
“Hudson, he’s studying to be a surgeon.”
“Doesn’t make him a good person.”
“Do you think this club is full of good people?” she asks. “Elite clubs like this are usually full of the opposite.”
“This club was founded on philanthropy. But either way, he doesn’t belong here, and why are you defending him?”
“I’m not defending him. I’m trying to get you to calm down.”
“Getting me to calm down by suggesting his presence is not a big deal is not calming me down. You need to join in my anger.”
“Okay.” She clears her throat before her expression morphs into displeasure. “That motherfucker, showing up here, to our sacred spot where I poked your balls for the first time. How the fuck dare he? I demand he be kicked out. I demand he write us an apology letter. I demand he gets put on a plane and sent back to the States immediately because hell will freeze over before I share another breath of oxygen with that man. Freeze over!” She pumps her fist to the air, while I stare at her, completely unamused.
“The sarcasm isn’t hitting.”
“Really?” she says. “Because I thought I just slayed.”
“There you two are,” Sheridan says, walking up to us. “We were informed that you arrived.”
We both plaster on smiles while we greet each other and then Sloane says, “Just talking dirty to each other over here in the corner.”
Jesus Christ.
Sheridan smirks. “Oh?”
