“Still are.” He leans forward, setting down the wine bottle. “That’s why you get along with me so well. I’m immature and you’re ancient.”
She scoffs, Trey chuckles, and I feel a combination of jealousy and confusion. I lift my drink and steal another glance at Mira, this one more apprising. I’ve seen a handful of Trey’s dates, most the long-legged kind who don’t concern themselves with breakouts, limp hair, or extra pounds. But Mira … she is a real woman, one whose nose is a little too big on her face, her features pleasant but not breathtaking, her body shape one that could shop at Lane Bryant as easily as Saks. She catches my eye and smiles, and her easy confidence is overwhelming. I swallow a sip of my mojito and search for something to say. “Edward, you met Mira through Bloomingdale’s also?”
“I did.” He had smile lines around his eyes, his head a thick pile of silver and gray. Somewhere in his fifties, with the same sort of lean build that Craig had. Probably a swimmer, or cyclist. “She was my account manager.”
“How long were you with Bloomingdale’s?” I ask Mira, taking a roll.
“God, two years. The longest two years of my life. But hey,” she hugs Edward’s arm, “it was worth it for this lug of sexuality.” She glances at Trey. “Hell, relationship-building was the only real benefit of that place, right?”
He shifts in his seat and I pick up on his tension, the rigid tap of his finger against his spoon, the way he clears his throat. “Have you guys made it to Aspen yet this year?”
She leans forward, and launches into a long and moderately funny story about a ski trip. I cut my filet and watch Trey, wondering at his tension, the abrupt change in conversation. He glances at me and I meet his eyes, a question in the look. What’s going on?
He looks away. Maybe it is just Mira’s comment, the thinly veiled reference to Vicka and his relationship. But it seems like something else. He hadn’t wanted me at this dinner at all. I glance at Mira and wonder if there is something else I am missing. Mira smiles at me, and I realize that the table has fallen quiet, everyone looking at me in the expectant way that follows a question. I swallow the bit of steak. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
“Edward is leaving tonight, flying back home for a meeting. I was wondering if you could show me your new collections in the morning?”
“Of course.” I smile, ignoring the hard press of Trey’s ankle against mine. “I’d be happy to. Maybe we could grab lunch at Lago and go over it there.”
“I could join you.” Trey leans in, and I position the heel of my stiletto in the vicinity of his shoe, his foot quickly moving out of the way.
“That’s not necessary.” I beam at him. “You go do your manly stuff. Slot machines and whatnot. Let us have some girl time.”
Mira giggles against her wine glass and Trey smiles tightly at me, a noticeable tic in his cheek. I take a long pull of merlot and wonder again, what the hell he is so worried about.
chapter 10
Him
Mira’s hands grip Kate’s shoulders and she kisses her cheek, smiling warmly and promising to see her tomorrow at noon. There is no way in hell that lunch is happening, but I’ll take that up with Mira tonight, once I get her away from Kate. I aged five years during that dinner, my heart in my throat whenever Mira so much as opened her mouth. I’d forgotten how much, without a dick in her mouth, she talks. I’ll fix that problem tonight.
She reaches for me, and I accept her hug, not reacting when she whispers her room number in my ear. I step away from her and extend a hand to Edward, his smile cordial. “Have a safe flight,” I say.
“Certainly. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He releases my hand, and we step apart. I turn to Kate and reach for her hand, our goodbye involving another round of salutations before we are through the restaurant and into the casino.
“Want to play some slots?” I eye the blackjack tables, where Mira and Edward are headed.
“Sure,” she replies cheerfully. “As long as you’re paying.”
“Of course.” I place my hand on the small of her back, forcing myself to not caress the skin there, my steps brisk until we get to the private section of high limit slots. I pause, reaching into my wallet, and am stopped by Kate’s stern look, her perky smile gone. I smell an ambush before she even opens her mouth.
“You prick with a dick.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the closest slot machine.
I look back down at my wallet, pulling out a handle of hundreds and buying myself a second to think. I close my wallet and stick it into my pocket. “What? I told you I knew her.”
“Knew her? Yes, that’s a bit of an understatement. Did you fuck everyone at Bloomingdale’s?”
That earns her a smirk, my eyes taking a greedy trip down her body, lingering on the way her dress clings. “I managed some restraint at times.”