Page 16 of Faking It
Are they really doing this right now? Is he really that desperate to find . . . a date? I’m sure he has women more than willing to be on his arm.
And then it hits me. Is it a date he’s looking for or simply someone to sleep with?
I take a step back, uncomfortable overhearing what’s obviously a game to them, and then my feet falter when Jack speaks.
“What about the one from earlier? Black dress, incredible body, killer eyes, pink heels?”
My breath catches even though I don’t want to care that they’re talking about me.
Zane chuckles in a way that makes me feel like he knows I’m standing here listening. “Not a chance in hell,” he murmurs in a low rumble.
“Why not? She made you look twice.”
“Two words: friggin’ nightmare.”
Jack throws his head back and laughs. “Aren’t they all?” They clink glasses while I stand there and stare at them like a little kid who was just made fun of in front of the whole school.
It takes me a second to find my footing and then I’m mad at myself for even caring what he thinks when he’s already proven what a jerk he can be.
But I bought his act coming over to the house. Hook. Line. And sinker. I let my mom and her romanticism get to me so much so that I came here tonight thinking I might just have formed the wrong first impression of him. That the man who showed up at my house was the real him—the sincere one—and not the jerk I met in the office building the other day.
A little bit of arrogance is sexy. This kind, is not.
I should’ve known better.
A friggin’ nightmare? Why? Because I won’t cow-tow to him like he’s a god because of his good looks and bank account?
It takes a lot more than that to impress me.
Flustered and now wanting that glass of wine, I walk the opposite way of Zane and Jack and past the covered corridor to find it.
And right into the back of a man who turns the corner the same time that I do.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” We both say in some form or another as his hands come out to my biceps to steady me.
“Pardon me,” he says as I take a step back and look into kind blue eyes. “Are you okay, Miss?”
I nod, my cheeks heating with embarrassment that I ran into this elderly gentleman because of my carelessness. “Yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?”
“I am.” He laughs. “It takes a lot more than a pretty woman to knock me off my stride.” His wedding ring glints in the soft light as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Your wife is one lucky lady then.”
His expression softens and his smile dims. “I lost her last year.”
“I’m so sorry.” I feel like an ass, but at the same time every part of me melts at the love he obviously still has for his wife.
“Don’t be. I’m lucky enough to have been able to experience true love.” He smiles and then startles. “Pardon my manners, Robert Waze. Nice to meet you.”
Robert? As in the Robert that I’ve overheard Jack and Zane talking about twice now?
“Harlow Nicks. Likewise.” We shake hands and then without thinking, we both turn to face the party going on in front of us. Oddly, for the first time all night, I feel at ease.
“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Nicks.”
“Harlow, please.”
“Harlow, then,” he says with a definitive nod before grabbing a glass of wine from a passing server and offering it to me.
