"Got it," O'Doul said.
Leo saw Georgia gather herself together. She took a deep breath and looked straight at him, as if she'd known exactly where he was the whole time. They locked eyes for a nanosecond before she blinked and broke off their staring contest. "Why aren't you wearing a purple tie?" she demanded.
After six years, that's what she wanted to say first? Her terseness took Leo by surprise, delaying his answer by a beat. "Sorry. Didn't own one. Muskrats don't wear purple ties." He smiled at her, hoping to put her at ease. I know this is weird, Gigi. But we can survive it.
But, damn it, her face shut down even more. "Someone trade with him," she snapped, looking down at the watch on her smooth wrist. And, hell, he knew that watch. He'd bought it for her with nearly all his savings. It had been a graduation present. He'd stood in Saks Fifth Avenue for a long time trying to figure out which was the most beautiful. He'd been so desperate to make her smile that spring. He would have done anything. Given her anything.
It hadn't worked.
"Two minutes," Georgia said, her voice gruff. "I want you to file into the press conference in exactly two minutes. Your seats are reserved in the two front rows. Do not take any questions on your way in. We'll start the conference the moment you're seated." Then she turned around and strode out of the room in those unlikely shoes.
"Dibs on giving the rookie my purple tie!" Silas yelled. "I called it."
Leo watched Georgia disappear. And then he took off his perfectly good green silk tie and took Silas's ugly one.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to everyone on the Penguin team! I'm so lucky to have met you all. Patricia Nelson at Marsal Lyon, you're the best. And thank you to Bella Love for your assistance with the medical aspects of this story.