It’s been more than a month since I’ve seen Amie. Not that I’m keeping track. I’m not obsessed. I’m not fixated. I don’t stroke myself to the pictures I took of her sunbathing in Bora Bora. Because that would be wrong. And a little desperate.
I run my fingers across my ties, trying to decide which one I want to wear tonight. We’re having a dinner party to celebrate Bancroft’s engagement and likely to plan the actual engagement party, because my mother’s favorite thing in the world is party planning. Nothing makes her happier.
Amie’s going to be there. At least I assume she is. She’s Ruby’s best friend. She’ll be in the wedding. I have to wonder how she’s handling this. I’m aware, thanks to Bancroft, that Ruby waited almost a full week after Bane proposed to tell Amie—because she wasn’t managing things well. When I asked what that meant, Bane shrugged and clammed up.
I don’t know if I’m part of the reason for Amie’s inability to handle things. I don’t want to make her life more difficult than it already is, especially since Armstrong is being a huge jackass about the annulment. But I can’t pretend I’m not looking forward to seeing her even if I can’t sleep with her anymore.
It’s obviously a bad idea considering the runner she pulled last time. I should’ve just left things alone, but once we were in the car reasoning took a vacation with logic, leaving my dick in charge. I’ve almost texted her a hundred times over the past few days, but I’m not going to push her to talk to me if she’s not ready. Except tonight we’re going to have to find a way to deal with this, because we’ll be spending time together, no matter what. Maybe not alone time, but time nonetheless.
I choose a purple tie and a white dress shirt to go with my black dress pants and leave my condo early so I can pick up some flowers for my mother on the way.
Traffic is worse than I anticipated, so I’m late instead of on time. My mother greets me at the door, her expression changing from chastising for my lateness to emotional when I present her with flowers, which is silly because it’s not unusual for me to bring them for her. She doesn’t pass them off to one of the staff to put them in water. Instead, she makes me come with her to the pantry to select the right vase, then she has me arrange them and put them on the table in the entryway so she can see them every time she comes home or goes out.
It’s a small gathering, just immediate family and a couple of Bancroft’s old rugby friends, so Amie is the first person I see even though she’s on the other side of the room. Her long blond hair hangs loose around her shoulders. Her knee-length lavender dress skims her curves but doesn’t conform, hiding the perfection that lies underneath. Her heels are gray, and low. The champagne glass in her hand is half full.
“Lex! You’re here!” Ruby abandons her side and runs over, throwing her arms around my neck. She never lacks for an enthusiastic greeting.
“As if I would miss your pre-engagement-party party.” I met Amie’s gaze from over Ruby’s shoulder.
Her smile is tentative and uncertain. She’s in the middle of a conversation with one of my mother’s friends. Her attention returns to her when she leans in and whispers something to Amie.
I don’t have an opportunity to talk to Amie before we’re seated for dinner because I’m pulled into a conversation with my father over business matters, which is not unusual.
She’s seated directly across from me at dinner, beside Ruby, who keeps leaning over and whispering in her ear. Amie seems to be unable to make eye contact with me. I need to get five minutes alone with her, and not to get her naked—which I would definitely like to do—but so we can figure out a way to be near each other without it being incredibly awkward, or obvious that there’s something going on. Or there had been something going on. I’m concerned that Ruby is already suspicious with all the whispering.
“Amalie, I wanted to check in with you about your experience with the Mills New York hotel spa services,” my father asks.
Shit. I don’t think I ever followed up on that with my assistant, Ursula.
Amalie gives my dad her signature polite, inquisitive smile. “New York hotels?”
My dad glances at me, somewhat questioningly, and then addresses Amie again. “Lexington mentioned how much help you were in Bora Bora with revising the spa service menu. He even went so far as to give you credit for the best ideas.”
“Oh?” Amie’s eyes flare, and for the first time, she actually meets my gaze for a fleeting second in which the question What the fuck? hangs heavy. “I think Lexington is exaggerating. I just spent a few hours being pampered.”
“Don’t be so modest, Amalie. Your input at the sister hotels is the reason we’re up on ratings again, isn’t that right, Lex?”
I can feel Bane’s eyes on me as I fight not to fidget. “Amalie was incredibly helpful.”
Ruby props her chin on her fist as she addresses Amie. “I didn’t know you were helping Lex while you were in Bora Bora.”
Amie waves her hand around in the air dismissively. “Lex was just being kind, giving me something to do so I wasn’t bored. While he went to meetings and did all the important things I sampled spa services.”
“That was really sweet of you, Lex,” Ruby says, but she’s looking at Amie and there’s a whole hell of a lot of suspicion on her face. “And here I thought all you had time for was Hottie Hook-Up.”
Amie coughs and gives Ruby the eye. Who the hell is Hottie Hook-Up?
My dad glosses right over that comment, or maybe he misses it. “There’s no need to be modest about your assistance, Amalie. We’re very grateful for your input, isn’t that right, Lexington?”
“Yeah. Yes, definitely.” Shit. I am not keeping it together right now, and it doesn’t help that Amie looks anything but comfortable with this conversation.
My dad gives me an odd look. “Lexington suggested you might be interested in experiencing some of the same services here in the city, and he thought it would be lovely to include Ruby. I assumed Lexington had already extended the invitation, but then I realize maybe you’ve been busy, all things considering. You’re working for Williams Media now, aren’t you?”
I don’t even know how my dad would know this. Or maybe it’s just been part of the gossip circuit.
“I am.”
“I’ve heard it’s going well. Wasn’t Thurston’s wife singing Amalie’s praises, Mimi?” he asks my mom.
Mimi places a hand over his. “Yes, but I think you’re embarrassing the poor girl with all this attention.”
“Right, of course. My apologies. Well, the invitation still stands to take advantage of the New York hotel spa services. It would be wonderful to get your opinion on how they stack up against the services at the Bora Bora hotels. Lex, you can have Ursula organize that for Amalie and Ruby, whenever it fits their schedules.”
“I can do that.” Please let this conversation be over.