One Foolish Night (Eternal Bachelors Club #4)

She motioned to him. “A drink, please.”


The handsome thirtysomething waiter who wore his tuxedo like a second skin looked to both sides, then back at her as if he didn’t know she was talking to him.

“Me?” he asked, a confused tone in his voice.

“Yes, a drink, please.” She pointed to the tray in his hands, on which she’d spotted what looked like a whiskey.

He looked down at the tray in his hands as if he only now realized that he was holding it. Finally his legs moved and he crossed the distance between them, bending down to her with his tray. She snatched a glass of amber liquid off it and took a sip. Yes, whiskey. The alcohol burned pleasantly when it ran down her throat. Instantly it warmed her.

He set the tray on the table next to her.

“It was very nice of you to pull him out,” the waiter said, the pleasant southern note in his voice soothing her.

And she needed some major soothing. Not only had Quentin made a pass at her earlier in the day, only minutes ago her parents had read her the Riot Act, accusing her of not doing enough to make Paul interested in her. She’d had it with them and with rich men who thought they only needed to snap their fingers to get everything they wanted.

“Better that than having to listen to my mother’s complaints any longer.” She didn’t know why she even confessed this to this very handsome stranger.

He smiled down at her, while he took off his tuxedo jacket. “Ah, yes, mothers have a way of annoying their children.” He tossed a knowing look at Mrs. Gilbert, who now stood face to face with her son. Then he took his jacket and put it around her shoulders. “Here.”

“Thank you.” His thoughtfulness touched her.

Tara took another sip and ran her eyes over the waiter’s body. Maybe it was time she rebelled against her parents, just like Paul had suggested. Perhaps shocking her mother by having an affair with somebody who didn’t fit into her perfect world would do the trick. “What are you doing after your shift?”

His gaze shot to her and his forehead furrowed. “My shift?”

She sighed. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he sure looked yummy, and his southern accent did something to her.

“Yes, when you’re done working here. I can’t wait to get away from all these arrogant rich people.”

A slow smile spread on his lips. “No plans. But I’m open to suggestions.” His eyes dipped to her body, slowly running a long look over her. When he lifted his gaze again, he added, “Or if you prefer, I could come up with some suggestions.”

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “That works too.” She set the empty glass back on the tray. “I’m Tara.”

“I’m Jay.” Then he leaned closer and dropped his voice. “And I’ll be your server tonight.”

Tara’s mouth went dry as his words traveled from her ears through her entire body and set it on fire.

Yes, a rebellion was definitely in order.





28


Paul gave Consuela a grateful nod when she poured him a cup of coffee and placed it in front of him on the dining table. “Thank you, Consuela.”

She shuffled out of the room, and Paul knew that the moment of truth had arrived. Everybody was assembled at the breakfast table in the dining room, looking at him as though his family were the Spanish Inquisition and he the sinner.

After the awful scene at the party, his parents had been unable to prevent a scandal. There was no way to stop wagging tongues in the Hamptons, and this was the juiciest story in Montauk and beyond since Sabrina had been falsely accused of being a call girl.

After the incident at the pool, his mother had fled and taken to her bed with a migraine, though Paul suspected it was simple embarrassment that had made her flee the curious crowd.

His father, with the help of some of Paul’s friends, had managed to send the guests home. Tara had disappeared, most likely whisked away by her parents in order not to be implicated in the scandal, after she’d pulled Geoffrey Tillamer, the jerk who’d exposed Holly, from the pool.

After that the phone had started ringing off the hook and Consuela had been instructed to take messages and relay that the family was not available to talk.

“How could you bring that woman into our home?” Paul’s mother now said in a tight voice.

Everybody at the table was silent. Not even Jonathan piped up. He probably sensed that something was wrong and that it was in his own best interest to behave.

“It’s nobody’s business but mine.” Paul stabbed a fork into his bacon, but had no intention of eating it.