Guests were gently herded toward the dining room. Meg accepted another cocktail from a waiter standing in the doorway with a tray of drinks. Dani didn't need any alcohol. She was buzzed from the sight of a shirtless Sean. Assigned seats had been arranged with place cards, and it turned out that one of the women at their table had been in Meg's shop a few times. The two exchanged friendly small talk. Dani noticed that her friend's speech was occasionally slurred, but slightly enough that it could be passed off as Southern drawl.
Besides, plenty of other people had been enjoying the signature cocktails; Meg's periodic tripping over her tongue didn't stand out. She'd be fine as soon as she got some food in her stomach. In keeping with her postbreakup diet, however, she barely touched the first course. Waiters removed the salad plates and replaced them with entrées of herb-encrusted prime rib. Dani ate hers without tasting it, busily scanning the room to look for Sean. A number of the other amateur models were beginning to appear now that they'd changed into regular clothes. Where was he?
There. Her heart stuttered. Nope, that wasn't him. Even from across the dining room, she realized she was looking at Bryce. Aside from superficial differences like the kinds of clothes they wore or the way they styled their hair, the two men carried themselves differently. She was surprised they were both in attendance. Sean had given her the impression they didn't run in the same circles.
She went back to searching the room. Once she spotted him for real, looking devastatingly sexy in a black suit and white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, it occurred to her she would have found him more quickly if she'd simply looked for a throng of females instead of a lone man. He was surrounded by no fewer than four women, including Lydia Reynolds and a blonde with unnaturally full lips who stood very close and had a hand on his arm. Dani blinked. Was he here with a date?
Well, really, what had she thought-that he'd wait for her forever? You told him you didn't want to see him again and that there was no chance you'd change your mind. Apparently, of the two of them, Sean wasn't the only liar.
After watching the blonde in the bandage dress lead Sean to a table, Dani had made it a point to stop staring. Instead, she focused her attention on dessert, stabbing it rather savagely.
Face propped on her hand, Meg peered at her with concern. "Did that tiramisu do something to you personally?" she asked, stumbling a bit over the last word.
"Sorry." Dani pushed away the plate. "I think I've hit my quota on fun. Instead of staying for the dancing, how about we go home and get started on our movie marathon?"
"'Kay."
This was good. Go home, change into comfy clothes, try again to get Meg to eat. And avoid watching Sean dance with a hot blonde date? Okay, that was a perk, too.
As the DJ in the corner kicked off the after-dinner party with a Beach Boys tune, Dani made sure she and Meg both had their purses and cell phones. They bid their table companions goodbye and headed for the dining room exit, but they weren't quite fast enough to make a clean getaway.
"Danica?"
At the sound of Tate's voice, she squeezed her eyes shut. Just kill me now. She didn't want to make a scene by being rude to him, but she was feeling too drained to stand around making small talk. Maybe she could keep walking and pretend she hadn't heard him over the music and background party noise?
But Meg stopped dead in her tracks, whirling around. "Ooh! It's about time I gave him a piece of my mind for how he treated you."
As potentially entertaining as that would be to watch, especially given Meg's incongruous use of words like heck and darn, Dani shook her head. "Absolutely not. He isn't worth it."
Meanwhile, Tate was catching up to them. He flashed Dani a smarmy game-show host smile. "That is you. I'm so glad to see you out and about."
As opposed to what, sobbing quietly in her room while clutching a photo album of the two of them?
"And you look really good." He managed to make it more condescension than compliment. "You weren't leaving already, were you? It's still early."
"Not a chance," Meg said, pronouncing it shance. "We're...only goin' to powder our noses. Then we're gonna dance! With a whole bunch of men."
Tate spared her a withering glance before turning back to Dani. "Well, I suppose that's the benefit of bringing your little friend here as your date. You're available to-"
"Dani." A deep, familiar voice interrupted.
They all three turned, with varying degrees of surprise, to see Sean strolling up to them. He held a hand out toward her. "Care to dance?"
"If you don't, I'm taking him," Meg warned in an unsubtle whisper.
Stay here, on the receiving end of Tate's sham concern, or spend time in the arms of the sexiest guy in the room? No contest.
Dani curled her fingers through Sean's, a delighted zing shooting through her at the physical contact. "Lead the way."
11
NODDING POLITELY TO indicate that he was listening, Bryce Grayson surreptitiously checked his watch. He'd been dying to leave since before dinner, but his boss's wife was on the event committee. Seizing the first opportunity to bolt didn't seem like a good career move.
Then again, if he had bolted, he wouldn't be stuck listening to Dr. Hargrove, a local cardiologist, tell the same golf story Bryce had already heard twice this month. This was only marginally a step up from the dinner conversation, which had included a divorcée unsubtly hinting that Bryce should introduce her to Sean-not likely-and a namedropping couple who'd apparently met every Important Person who'd ever passed through the Atlanta area. By the time Bryce had finished dinner, he'd had a headache. The dance music wasn't helping.
Neither was the knowledge that Sean was in the ballroom. Bryce was unaccustomed to moving in the same social circles as his twin. Did others notice that he hadn't approached his own brother all night? Bryce had started to, but what was the point? His last two exchanges with Sean had become hostile pretty quickly. While he hoped Sean would be more diplomatic in a public setting, he wasn't willing to take the risk.
When the doctor finally reached the conclusion of his story, Bryce offered what might have been his first genuine smile in hours. "So good to see you again, but I think I'm going to head home. Long week at the office," he added, trying to look fatigued rather than exuberant about his impending escape.
Bryce had only taken a few steps toward the door, however, when his brother's ex-girlfriend suddenly inserted herself in his path. "Tara." He nodded in greeting. "I understand you're on the committee for this event. Job well done."
"Thank you, but I'm afraid we're headed into fiasco territory. Ride to my rescue?"
Not if it involved anything like appearing publicly in an outfit as ridiculous as what Sean had worn. "What do you need?" he asked cautiously.
"Someone to run interference. The committee members worked their tails off to make this a perfect night, and I don't want it ruined by tacky people making a scene." She gestured toward the side of the dance floor. Two women and a man were involved in a heated conversation that appeared to be escalating. "I'd take care of it myself but I have to prevent another social disaster. Judge Waylan's wife and his girlfriend just headed toward the ladies' lounge."
Getting involved in the business of strangers wasn't exactly in Bryce's comfort zone. "You sure you don't want to delegate this to one of your committee members?" he hedged.
"And throw more estrogen on the fires of a potential chick fight? No." She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Besides, you've always had such an authoritative air about you."
Was he misreading the purr in her voice? The idea of his twin's ex hitting on him was distasteful enough to propel him toward the altercation brewing by the dance floor. "All right, I'm on it." He'd see what he could do to stem brewing trouble, and then he was definitely leaving.
Ahead of him, a woman with curly red-gold hair was angrily addressing a short man, poking him in the chest with her finger. A second woman clutched his arm, making rebuttals in a heavy accent.
Bryce cleared his throat. "Is there a problem here, folks?"
The man in the tableau looked embarrassed to have a witness. "No problem, just, um, catching up with-" he eyed the curly-haired spitfire in the lacy black dress "-an old friend."