Rusty Nailed (Cocktail, #2)(58)

We chewed.

“I think I finally talked Ryan into taking ballroom dancing lessons for the wedding. We get to learn how to tango!”

“I heard from Professor Bernard Fitzsimmons; he and Polly just moved in together.”

“I think Jillian is lying to me about something.”

Forks clattered.

“Wait, what?” Mimi asked as Sophia looked at me in confusion.

“I can’t explain it. I just think something’s going on and she’s not telling me.” As soon as I said it out loud, I was even more convinced. “I don’t know what’s going on, but something’s up.”

They listened as I told them about everything that had been going on: the phone calls, the non–phone calls, the e-mails, everything. I sat back and waited for them to see it, to agree with me.

“You’re basing this all on the fact that she might have said Munich when she meant Vienna?” Sophia asked, shaking a sugar packet.

“No. I mean, partly, but—I don’t know, I just feel like something’s off,” I insisted, not understanding why no one else was seeing it too.

“She’s on her honeymoon. If I was riding that Benjamin train every night, you can be damn sure I’d be forgetful. Mmm, you think he likes it dirty? Do you think he likes it when—”

“Good Lord, Mimi!”

“Jesus Christ, woman!”

We stared at Mimi. To be fair, we’d all fantasized about it. But we never discussed it.

She had the decency to blush into her sausage circles.

“Anyway, no, it’s not just mixing up the names of the cities. She was supposed to be gone awhile, but this is almost getting ridiculous. And she hardly ever checks in anymore—”

Mimi laughed. “How could she check in, when she’s too busy checking out Benjamin in one of those tiny little European bathing suits? I bet they do it in—”

“Enough!” I said, slamming my hand down and making the silverware bounce. “I don’t have time for this; I’m trying to tell you that—forget it. You know what? I need to get to work,” I snapped, throwing a twenty down on the table and getting up.

“Are you really leaving?” Sophia asked as I put my coat on.

“Yes, I’m really leaving. I have to go receive an art installation for the hotel in Sausalito!”

I slammed out of the restaurant, my heart pounding. I was so mad, and I had gotten there so fast. Dammit.

I went back inside to where they were still sitting, wide-eyed. “Thank you very much for asking me to be a bridesmaid; that was really very sweet.” Then I left again.

I got into Jillian’s Mercedes and drove back across the bridge to wait for my art installation. Which never showed up.

Hey, art installation? Suck my dick.

? ? ?

That night, I was frustrated beyond belief that I’d wasted an entire morning and the better part of the afternoon when my free time was at a premium. Waiting around for the artwork after repeated calls to the delivery service, which just kept telling me it was “in transit,” just further irritated my already foul mood. I felt frazzled, so I decided to tune out and get turned on. I wasn’t going to think about work anymore.

I found Simon in the kitchen, looking through Chinese take-out menus. He asked me if I wanted to just stay in tonight and pig out on pot stickers. It was exactly what I needed and I told him so.

I needed to relax. Everyone else got free time, I was going to get some too.

After pot sticking, we retreated to the hot tub. Simon turned on some Count Basie and we hurried down the chilly path. Sitting under a blanket of stars, I leaned back into the bubbly water with a glass of wine and tried to relax. I tried to let go of the unease I’d been feeling about Jillian, my stress about work, and the mini fight I’d had with Mimi and Sophia that morning.

I’d texted both of them with apologies that were met with an “Oh please, it’s fine” and “You’re an * but I love you anyway.”

“You seem quiet tonight,” Simon remarked, his strong arms curved behind him on the edge of the hot tub. A wet Wallbanger was something that can never be described. But I will try.

It was . . . Oh, hell, it was really good.

“I’m relaxing, can’t you tell?” I replied, making a great show of settling back and letting out a contented sigh.

“That’s good. You need to relax more, if you ask me.” He tilted his face toward the sky, throwing his jaw, and his stubble, into stark relief against the cold night.

As I admired him, I noticed his jaw was not only strong, it was tense. “You okay?”

“Never better,” he replied as he breathed out heavily.

Had I been ignoring Simon? Surely not; how could anyone ignore someone this good looking? But just to be sure . . .

Feeling a spark below, I pushed across the water to his side, sitting on his lap. His hands wrapped around my waist, fingers tangling into the edges of my bikini bottom. “You remember the first time we hot tubbed, Wallbanger?”

“I do. You were quite randy,” he remembered, the hint of a smirk appearing.

“I really was. You were hot to trot as well, as I recall.” I rolled my eyes. And my hips. Which did not go unnoticed. “Until you put the brakes on my advances.”

“You will never know how hard that was.”