Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(28)

And that fast his *ness is back.

I conceal my eye roll by feigning more interest in the mansion until a valet opens my door and helps me out. Roger meets me at the curb and takes my arm as we walk through the large marble entryway.

“Remember, the Koch’s are new clients and this autism fundraiser is important to them. Try not to hit on any men tonight.”

I trip on one of the stone steps, but Roger grips my arm harder while flashing me a tight disapproving face. Last week he accused me of hitting on Trey and his friends to score an account. It was an hour-long talk about how Lowry, Lowry, and Fink doesn’t use prostitution to gain new clients. In other words, mortifying. I’m not sure why the man hates me so much, but he’s made it clear he thinks I’m the biggest screw up he’s ever worked with.

I was stunned speechless when he asked me to be his date for tonight’s event. Of course he asked at 4:30 p.m. so I assume I’m a last resort. Regardless, I’m here now and the food will be better than the leftover takeout I planned to eat. I’ll support any charity Roger needs me to with a big happy face as I drink free champagne and eat expensive food. The job comes with some perks.

We cross the threshold together and Roger leads me to the right of a large foyer area. People mill about the space with tiled floors and large windows. A line has formed at the small black bar area set up in the back of the room. If Jay were my date for the night, we’d already be headed toward the refreshments, but I bet Roger’s a water man. And heaven forbid I mention it. Tomorrow he’d schedule an AA intervention.

A laugh carries across the room and my ears perk up. For a minute I think it’s Trey, but he didn’t mention a commitment tonight and he wouldn’t have a reason to be at tonight's charity for autism. Roger talks to a couple a few years older than me who both laugh at everything he says. He doesn’t take the time to introduce me, but they both seem friendly enough. Any other time I’d be offended at his callousness, but I can’t find the strength to care tonight. I’m still reliving my evening with Trey and wondering when I get to see him again. I’m here for the free food and to be arm candy —— minimal thought required.

There it is again. This time my head flies around to look behind me from reflex. The sound is deep and rich. One I memorized from the few times I heard it last night. With Trey. I make a quick glance around the room, but don’t spot a tall, impossibly handsome man in the area.

“What do you think of San Francisco so far, Simone?” the wife of the pair Roger has cornered asks. I guess introducing me wasn’t as important as telling everyone here I'm new.

I suppress a sigh. It’s not her fault after all.

“I’ve only been here a few weeks so I haven’t had much time to see the sights yet.”

I don’t mention my trip down Lombard Street last night in L.D. with Trey. It’s sure to make Roger asks more questions and I don’t want him to ruin the specialness of the night more than he already did after making me come in the office to sign a single sheet of paper.

“Roger,” the woman clutches her floor length dark green dress and lifts one side, “you must help her get out and see all the wonderful things we have to offer."

Roger gives a polite but dismissive head nod in her direction. “Of course, Gloria,” and he then resumes his conversation with her husband without another glance in our direction.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get some champagne.”

Gloria is the perfect person to help me make a beeline away from Roger, if only for a few minutes. Plus, she offered champagne. She detangles her arm from her husband and, with a portion of her dress still raised in one hand, leads me toward the back of the room.

The line for the bar stretches to the side and we take our place at the end of it before she picks up the conversation again. “I’ve always wanted to live in New York, but the closest I’ve gotten was a few long weeks here and there. Do you miss it?”

I think about my answer for longer than I’m comfortable with. The truth is I do miss New York and my family. But there’s a part of San Francisco that calls to me. The city is beautiful and the views spectacular. The weather is better than Buffalo for sure. Yet, if I'm honest there is one person in particular swaying my judgement of the city. New York doesn’t have Trey Good.

I shuffle through my emotions and then give her the expected answer. “I do miss it, but I’m looking forward to a fresh start here.”

I wait for her to give me a polite head nod at my answer, but instead I’m met with a scowl. “Oh no, dear. Don’t say you're looking for a fresh start. It makes you sound like you escaped prison. Compliment us on the weather or beauty of the city. Northern Californians are ridiculously proud of the features we have no control over.” She smiles and it makes me comfortable enough to laugh at her advice.

My head snaps to the right as I swear to God Trey’s laugh passes by us again. Closer this time.

“In this room, the acoustics are horrible. You can hear everything. All the marble, I assume. Although, I suppose the Flood family wasn’t planning on it being an event hall when they built it.” She obviously noticed my loss of attention.

I give her a polite, “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right,” and then we allow the conversation to continue, but my eyes don't stop the search for Trey. My mind refuses to believe he isn’t here even though I remind myself he didn’t mention any plans during our messages today.