Frenemies(69)
Nate and Henry were both dressed in tuxedos, although all comparison ended there. I thought Nate looked like the surly sort of waiter you debated not tipping at all and then over-tipped because you were intimidated. Henry, meanwhile, looked divine. It was as if he’d been hiding his light underneath the bushel of regular clothes, and only now, in black tie, could his true glory shine forth upon the masses. And shine he did.
The thought that I might have ruined any chances of ever touching him again was a sudden, searing misery that threatened to drown me.
Oscar followed my gaze across the room and sighed.
“I had the most depressing conversation with Henry when I was checking in,” he said. “He claims his reputation as male slut was totally exaggerated. The guy was my hero, but he says it was all made up.”
“Mostly by me,” Georgia said happily, and raised her eyebrows at me. “If any girl strayed within a foot of him, I assumed they were sleeping together. I might have told every other living human being in Boston that they were, too. Mea culpa.” She didn’t sound in the least repentant.
“I think I might burst into tears,” Oscar said.
I had to take a moment to deal with the actual reality of Henry: force for good and no more of a floozy hound than anyone else. The inkling I’d had in the café with Georgia turned into more of a tidal wave.
“You’re not still staring at them?” Amy Lee demanded, shaking her head at me. She thought I was still tied in knots about Nate, I realized when I saw the look on her face. What a difference a few unpleasant weeks made.
“I am,” I replied, meeting her eyes. Daring her. “But not for the reasons you think. I don’t really care what Nate and Helen do. I was more interested in ogling Henry.”
“But—” Amy Lee looked at Georgia.
Georgia waved a careless hand in the air. “Over it.”
Amy Lee opened her mouth, and then shut it again with a faint snapping sound.
“You should be free to ogle whoever you want,” Amy Lee said after a moment. Magnanimously. “It just might take me a few minutes to stop with the knee-jerk name-calling, that’s all.”
“I’m on record as always liking the guy,” Oscar reminded me. “Still do. Although he’s off the hero list.”
“I don’t see why we have to stop calling him names,” Georgia said with a sniff. “Just because Gus likes him now, forever breaking the heart of the nineteen-year-old girl I once was, that doesn’t change the fact that I think he’s bleeding-heart liberal scum.”
I didn’t have the chance to answer that as it deserved, because the doors to the banquet hall were opened and we all started to file inside for the cocktail portion of the evening. Henry moved away from Nate and Helen for a moment, and our eyes caught from across the lobby. I expected him to ignore me—and maybe it was time I learned to stop with the expectations, especially where Henry was concerned.
Because instead of ignoring me, his eyes grew a little bit more blue as he looked at me, and then he nodded his head. Just once.
It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t a bitch slap, either.
It was as if the moment I’d stopped running after Nate, I’d finally realized I’d been running away from Henry the whole time. And I didn’t think I wanted to run any longer.
I wanted more than a nod.
“Wake up, space cadet!” Georgia ordered, grabbing me by the arm and steering me toward the nearest bar. “If you fall on your face because you’re daydreaming about my epic crush, I guarantee I won’t catch you.”
“And I’ll probably laugh at you,” Amy Lee said in agreement.
“I’m so glad we’re all in love again,” I said, making my voice warble with emotion that I was only partially faking. “It makes me feel so warm inside.”
The party got rowdy, fast.
First of all, we’d been attending parties with these people for years now, so there was a kind of party shorthand. There was no awkwardness over initial drinks as the night swung into gear. Oh, no. The first round of cocktails had hardly begun and there was already a din that rattled through the hotel. It was as comfortable as any of our usual weekends, just in party clothes.
Second, it was New Year’s eve, which added a manic energy to the whole shebang. People weren’t as placid as they normally were. You got the sense that everyone was personally invested in having a good time. Which promised that the night would be fun, on the one hand. And on the other, it was slightly alarming.
And then, third, there was a whole lot of drama swirling around in the banquet hall when it came time for the sit-down dinner Lorraine insisted upon, because she threw every party as if it were the wedding reception she worried she’d never experience.
“Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me,” Georgia said into my ear as we looked for our assigned table. “Please tell me that is not my ex-whatever all over that incredibly skanky twig with the blown-out hair.”
I looked over and sure enough, horrible Jared was lounging about at the very table we’d been searching for, all but licking the neck of a very familiar-looking female.
“Her name is Ashley,” I told Georgia, remembering her from the Park Plaza and the elevator she’d exited with Henry. “I don’t know if this helps or hinders, but I think she’s deeply stupid.”