I hope they can give him the connections he's looking for.
He looks so handsome in his dark suit and wine-colored tie, his hair ruffled by the occasional breeze. His smile flashes white against the tan of his skin and there are slight wrinkles around his eyes, as if he laughs often.
Which I hope he does. I haven't seen him laugh much since he's been so stressed-out since I started working for him, but hopefully that will change once everything settles down. Then he can relax and reap the benefits of all this hard work.
I probably won't be around to witness it though. And that thought alone fills me with such complete and utter sadness, I almost fall to the ground, my legs get so wobbly.
Pushing on, I head toward the crowds opposite of where Matt stands. I find an empty table and collapse in a chair, slipping my hand beneath the heavy weight of my hair, so I can rub my neck. No wonder I don't wear it down very often. It's heavy and thick, making me hot and my neck hurt.
I should just cut it all off and be done with it.
"Are you all right? You look like you're contemplating murder." Ivy pulls out a chair and settles in next to me.
"Only the murder of my hair." At her weird look I explain. "I'm thinking of cutting it all off."
"Don't you dare. It's gorgeous."
I shrug. "Like anyone notices. This has all been for nothing."
"Ah, Matt didn't notice? I know he's busy trying to keep everyone happy tonight," Ivy reminds me.
"Oh, he noticed." He definitely noticed if his mouth fused with mine and his hands roaming all over my body earlier was any indication. "His father came along though and ruined everything."
Ivy's mouth dropped open. "His father came? I never saw him."
"Aren't you lucky?" I mutter.
"Aw. Did he say something awful to you?" Ivy reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "He's terrible-says the most offensive things ever. When I was younger, he used to try and hit on me."
"He doesn't try and hit on you now?"
"Well, I haven't seen him in a while and besides, Archer would kill him. Like tear him apart and murder him with his bare hands if he so much as leered at me, let alone touched me." Ivy smiles, a dreamy look in her eyes. "He's so hot when he gets all possessive like that."
Envy curls through me, gripping me tight. "Must be nice."
"Someday I bet you'll experience the same thing with Matt," Ivy says, full of a confidence I wished I felt even a tenth of.
Instead of making her more curious, I decide to put on a brave face. "Yeah, maybe I will," I say with a false enthusiasm that makes Ivy give me the side eye.
I can't get anything right, I swear.
Matt
I CAUGHT SIGHT of Bryn escorting my dad out of here not even twenty minutes ago, and it was like a weight had been lifted off me, making me infinitely lighter. It took everything in me not to fret and worry like a little old lady, my gaze constantly going to where Bryn sat with Dad.
I was afraid he'd say something horrible to her, or worse, touch her in an inappropriate manner. Wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that to some poor, innocent woman.
I just don't want him doing it to my woman.
With my dad off the premises, I find my focus and really start to work it. I talk to the local winery owners I invited, who all seemed grudgingly impressed with my wine list. I speak with plenty of local media who want to feature the DeLuca Winery; being a former pro ball player gives my story an extra edge they all want to explore.
I haven't eaten dinner and I'm starved, living on the occasional appetizer I find here and there, taking way too many swigs of wine. My head is spinning-I'm high on tonight's event coming together so perfectly-and I wonder where the hell Bryn is.
Plans to celebrate with her are definitely on my late-night agenda.
"Have you seen Bryn?" I ask Archer when I find him moving through the crowd, clutching two glasses, one full of water. I figure he's on his way back to Ivy.
"She's sitting with Ivy over there." He gestures with one of the glasses. "Ivy asked me to grab her a drink."
I should probably stay and talk with my guests some more, but I'm growing exhausted being on all the time. I need a break. I want to hang out with my people. "Yeah, I'll come with you."
"Uh huh." Archer flashes me a knowing smile over his shoulder as I fall into step behind him. "Missing your girl, hmm?"
"She's not my girl," I say, though the thought of Bryn with any other man, of her giving another man the right to call her his girl, fills me with a near overwhelming rush of jealousy.
Yeah. That was sort of a lie. I wouldn't mind if Bryn was my girl. But she can't be my girl. I have a bet to win.