T he room was naturally dark since it was a basement room, but warm lighting had been placed in alcoves all around and rugs covered the flagstone floors. To the left of the bar situated in the back of the room were two long tables with enough buffet food to feed a small family for a good couple of weeks. Booths were situated around the edges of the room, and people had already laid claim to most of them.
There were no balloons, no banners, nothing but a birthday cake to suggest this was indeed a birthday party, which told me that Hannah knew her best friend quite well.
“Why am I here again?” I said to Rae.
Somehow despite protesting against it for days, I was standing next to Rae and Mike in the entrance to the basement bar that was part of a split-level nightclub called Fire. The basement had been turned into a private function suite for Cole’s party, organized by his friend Hannah, and hosted by the owner of the club, Braden Carmichael. And yup, Rae told me that Braden was J. B. Carmichael’s husband.
“Because you look hot and it’ll annoy the fuck out of Cole and greatly entertain me,” Rae said, leaning into Mike’s side.
I pulled a face at her, but secretly I was pleased by her compliment. It made no sense, but I wanted to look my best tonight.
As always my hair was down, but I’d taken special care to make sure it was soft and not wild. I was wearing a black figure-hugging short dress, black stockings, and black suede ankle boots with a thin silver heel. No accessories. My makeup was fresh and light—my lipstick, eye shadow, and nail polish peach because it was a color that worked nicely against my skin tone and hair.
Since the dress was short and the heels were high, my legs looked longer. Wearing no jewelry and no color meant that the dress and my hair were doing all the work tonight.
Tony waved from across the room, just this mere action drawing gazes my way. He strolled toward us in another beautifully fit suit, his hand clasped in Simon’s. Simon wore dark jeans and a white T-shirt with a Banksy print on it. As soon as Tony reached me I received a kiss on either cheek. When he stepped back his eyes raked over me with a thoroughness you’d expect from a straight guy. “You look bellissima,” he murmured throatily.
Seriously, the guy oozed sexual charisma.
The strangers beyond him were looking at us again, and as I scanned the group I halted on a familiar face. Cole. I flushed and turned my attention back to Tony, murmuring my thanks.
Tony turned to greet Rae and Mike, and Simon took his place beside me. “You do look sexy as hell, Shannon.”
I smiled gratefully. I felt completely out of place and out of my depth, but looking good and being appreciated, especially by Tony and Simon (whom I’d come to adore) made me feel a little better. “You look sexy too. But you always do.” It was true. He could wear a bin bag and look hot.
“Simon,” a low, pleasant voice said, and I turned to my left to see it belonged to a stunning and very pregnant blond woman. She held her arms out and Simon stepped into her, enfolding her in a gentle embrace.
“Hannah, you look great, sweetheart.”
Oh. So this was Hannah. I studied her while she smiled at Simon. This was Cole’s best friend.
Her gaze moved to me and I could see her brown eyes were brimming with curiosity. “Introduce me, Sy.”
He did so and then promptly left me alone with her.
Hannah held her hand out to me with a friendly smile and I took it with my own. I nodded at her small baby bump. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She patted her stomach and then gave a nod to the left. “It’s our second.”
I followed her gaze to an exceptionally tall, broad-shouldered too-good-looking-to-be-true guy with fantastic caramel skin. He was talking to a dark-haired man I didn’t recognize, holding a little girl with dark curly hair in his right arm, while a little boy, the spitting image of him, gripped his left hand.
“My husband, Marco,” Hannah said. “And our daughter, Sophia, and my stepson, Dylan.”
“You have a beautiful family,” I said with genuine feeling.
Wistfulness caused a light ache in my chest.
She smiled. “They keep me busy.” Just like that, her gaze turned questioning. “So, you’re the new receptionist at INKarnate?”
It occurred to me I had absolutely no idea what Cole had said to her about me. My answering “yes” was cautious.
“Hmm.”
I waited, but that was all I was going to get out of her on the subject apparently, because the next words out of her mouth were “You have the best hair ever.”
I laughed and some of the tension between us broke. “Thank you.”
“How do you get it to do the ringlet thing? With straighteners or a curling iron?”