All of the women studied him for a moment.
“I don’t know,” Natalie said. “But those glasses look sexy on him.”
“Definitely,” Sierra said.
Zoë never quite got used to how pretty Sierra’s sisters were and how different. Natalie, the oldest, was a redhead and a D.C. cop.
“I vote for the guy who plays the father on The OC.” Rory, the middle sister, was short, dark-haired, and a freelance writer.
“Peter Gallagher,” Sierra said. “Yes, I can see the resemblance in the cheekbones, but the man we’re ogling has a firmer jawline. I still vote for James Bond.”
“I say Mark Wahlberg,” Sophie said. “He’s hot.”
“Mark or this guy?” Natalie asked.
“Both,” Rory and Sophie answered in unison.
“I’m thinking of someone who’s not a movie star,” Zoë said.
“Okay.” Mac studied him for a minute. “In profile, especially in the nose and the jawline, I think he looks a bit like Ryder’s friend, Jed Calhoun.”
“No,” Sierra said. “He’s too…stiff. Look at that posture.”
“You’re right about the posture, but I think he looks a little like Jed, too,” Zoë said. And she was hoping that the resemblance was what had triggered her intense reaction to the man. “Every one of us is supposed to have a twin somewhere in the world. Maybe that man is Jed Calhoun’s.”
Sierra shot her an amused look. “I think that you have Jed Calhoun on the brain.”
Suddenly the four other women shifted their gazes to her. Zoë felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “No, it’s not that. I really think this man looks like Jed.”
“Right,” Natalie said, patting her shoulder. “I found that when I was first besotted with Chance, I saw him everywhere, too. Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Zoë.”
“We’ve all gone through this,” Sophie added. “If you want any advice, just ask one of us.”
“I don’t—it’s not that…I just…I’m not…”
Rad appeared behind Natalie and thankfully interrupted Zoë in midbabble. “Your table is ready, ladies. Right this way.”
As they fell in line to follow Rad to the patio, they passed right under the man’s table. She didn’t glance up, but she felt his gaze on her, and the flame that she’d felt earlier grew hotter. It wasn’t until she reached the short flight of stairs that led to the patio that Zoë risked another look at the stranger who reminded her of Jed Calhoun.
He was different from Jed. The dark hair was a bit shorter than the way Jed wore his, and it fell over his forehead. Zoë caught the wink of a diamond on his right pinkie as he lifted his water glass. She couldn’t imagine Jed Calhoun ever wearing a pinkie ring. Mr. Elegant had money, she surmised. The glasses also gave him a studious air that Jed Calhoun certainly didn’t—
Just then she stumbled, bumped into Sierra and nearly had them both tumbling down the stairs.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she grabbed Sierra’s arm and steadied them both. “Good thing I didn’t have that second glass of wine.”
But it wasn’t wine that was making her legs feel so rubbery. It was that man. She was attracted to him. How could she be when for the past two days she’d thought of no one but Jed Calhoun?
JED LET OUT A BREATH he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding when he saw Zoë follow Rad and her friends out onto the patio. The last thing he needed right now was a distraction. And Zoë McNamara was definitely that. Just being in the same room with her was affecting him so much that he wasn’t keeping his mind on business.
He relaxed his grip on his martini glass, lifted it and took a sip. As he pretended to savor the taste of the British gin he’d requested from the waiter, he let his gaze roam the restaurant. There had to be a reason why Gage hadn’t asked Rad to bring him directly to the table.
His old friend was currently moving through the crowd in the bar looking for all the world as if he were searching for someone. Had Gage been followed? By whom? Whoever it was would have to be good because Gage would have taken precautions.
Was Gage merely being cautious? Or was he silently communicating a message? Jed let his own gaze slowly sweep the crowd standing elbow to elbow in the bar area. As Gage finessed his way into one of the seats that Sierra and Zoë had occupied earlier, Jed retraced the path that Gage had woven through the crowd. It wasn’t until he’d let his gaze sweep the area for a second time that he spotted her.
Bailey Montgomery was standing at the other end of the bar at the very edge of a group of Georgetown students, and she was deep in conversation with one of them. He’d missed her the first time because she could have passed for an instructor or a grad student in the casual jeans and T-shirt she was wearing. Her hair was loose and she was wearing glasses. It was a thin disguise, but effective. He hadn’t spotted her himself, and he should have.