Rusty Nailed (Cocktail, #2)(47)

Take a lesson, girls: That’s how you communicate with someone you haven’t seen in ten years.

? ? ?

Dinner was fantastic, his friends were fantastic, the entire evening was fantastic. Once dinner had been served, everyone mingled again and people were truly happy to see Simon. From what I could glean from tidbits here and there, most of his classmates knew he was a photographer, and some even knew how successful he was in his field. But hearing him tell his story, telling people what he’d been up to over the last ten years, was really fantastic.

And you should have seen his face when the apostles started whipping out their wallets to show him pictures of their kids! All of them, married; all of them, kids; all of them, settled into the good life. The good life that was preordained for apostles from Moneyville, USA. I had to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing when Luke copped to having triplets. Simon looked like he was going to pass out. I just made circles on his back with my hand and sent him back into the fray when another wave of old friends made their way by the table.

No one said a word about his family, and I’d been paying attention, ready to swoop in with my no-panties alternative. They were just all glad he’d finally popped back up on the radar, and to know he was doing well, that he was happy.

After dinner we walked around the room and I saw more yearbook pictures on the wall, including Senior Superlatives: Class Clown, Cutest Couple, that sort of thing. After what I’d seen tonight, I knew he was on here somewhere; it was just a question of where. Best Hair? Best Smile? Best Looking? I could see all three, but it turned out to be the one on the end: Most Likely to Succeed.

“Well, look at you. Everyone knew you were going places way back then,” I joked, pulling him in front of the picture and comparing what ten years did. In the picture he was tall and handsome, eyes bright and hopeful, an easy grin on his face. A little leaner than he was now, of course; just the tiniest hint of a laugh line here or there.

He looked at the picture and smiled ruefully. “I can’t believe they put those pictures up. How embarrassing.”

“No, it’s nice. I like seeing you back then.”

“It’s funny, seeing this now. You know why I got this one?”

“As opposed to Most Fuckable? Because you have my vote for that one.”

“Because I was going into business with my dad,” he answered, his eyes darkening a bit.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” I breathed as he pulled me closer by the hand that’d been on my back all night.

He was silent for a moment, looking at the picture. He took a deep breath. I wondered whether I should tell him about what I wasn’t wearing under my dress; there was a dark corner not too far away—

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s actually been nice to think about these things again. Makes it seem not so far away.”

“Far away, my ass. Far away is Istanbul,” a female voice said behind us. We turned and saw a petite girl with closely cropped jet-black hair, a nose ring, several eyebrow piercings, and the most piercing green eyes I’d ever seen. The tiny black dress, fishnet stockings, and Dr. Martens took your eyes to her body right away, and when you put it all together, the girl was a f*cking knockout. With killer arm ink.

“Istanbul, where you left my ass,” she finished.

“Viv Franklin,” Simon breathed, his eyes lighting up.

Uh-oh.

“Left your ass? Like hell! My job was over, you knew I was leaving. You were just too involved with that tour guide to notice.”

“You never could hold your liquor.”

“Hold this.”

“Ha! In your dreams, Parker.” She grinned and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in the biggest bear hug I’d ever seen. He swung her around and actually patted her on the ass. I wasn’t wearing underwear, but I could still kick some butt. Although to be fair, she looked tough.

Setting her down but keeping his arm snugly around her waist, he turned back to me. “Caroline, this is Viv Franklin. Viv, this is my girlfriend—”

“Girlfriend? You?”

“—Caroline Reynolds,” he finished, releasing her to tug me over.

“No shit—Parker’s got a girlfriend. What a night,” she cackled, smacking him on the shoulder and reaching for my hand. I shook it, not sure what else to do.

“Nice to meet you,” I offered, but those two were off and running.

“What are you doing now? Working for your old man?” he asked.

“Nah, I went out on my own. Data mining.”

Oh, she was a miner?

“Wow, good for you. You still writing?”

Oh, she was a writer?

“Yeah, I just sold a new app to one of the big guys. Niiiiice paycheck, know what I’m saying?”

Oh, she wrote an app for, wait. What the hell did she do?

“I bet,” Simon said. “You know, I ran into one of your brothers when I was in Cairo last year. He was there working on some new system, seemed like a pretty big deal.”

“Oh, you know my family. They’re always on to the latest and greatest.”

“Yeah, your brother was not on to the latest and greatest when he snuck some porn into my backpack when I wasn’t looking. You wouldn’t believe the trouble I got into when I—”

“What the hell is going on? What do you do? Where did you two go together? And who the hell was putting porn in your backpack?” I yelled, for the third time tonight. I needed to get out more; my party manners were out of practice.