Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2)(83)

Krista sighed and leaned back. “Yup. I bit him. I don’t know what came over me.”

Marcus doubled over laughing.

“What’s up?” Jasmine said as she slid into the booth.

“I told Marcus how I bit Sean.”

“Oh,” Jasmine was unimpressed. It was old news.

“I can bite,” Marcus said with a leer.

“Doesn’t matter. You have the wrong equipment,” Krista reflected.

“Eww! He is so square!”

“Oh really?” Jasmine asked with a dry voice. “Square? Are you saying you’d do me if I was head-over-heels for you?”

Marcus looked at her, eyes skimming up, then down. He shrugged, “If I was drunk enough.”

Krista and Jasmine started laughing and threw napkins at him, “Liar!”

Marcus just laughed.

Sooner rather than later they all had to go home and get ready for dinner, except Krista, of course. She had her stuff at work, having gone shopping in the middle of the week, and knowing it would take too long to get home and back. Since Ben was a last minute add-in, and Judy still hated that he showed her up, no one pushed to have him go to the dinner.

Everyone was starting to leave when Sean sat next to her. “Do you need a ride?”

“No. I’m going to have one more then get ready in the office.”

“In the office?”

“It’s a cab ride away from the swanky hotel. A short, quick cab ride.”

“I can drive you home and back if you want to get ready at home.”

“Oh nah, that’s fine. I’m going to have another drink with Jasmine, Kate and Ben then go get ready. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Are you still going solo?”

“I didn’t think we had a choice.”

“We do. Have a choice, that is.”

“Oh. Are you going with someone? Because I can ask Ben to come with me. We’d have to find him something to wear real quick, but he is basically one-size-fits-all so it shouldn’t be too big of a problem. Although, he might poison my drink. Or Judy might.”

“I am not going with anyone,” Sean said quietly, looking at the table.

“Oh. Well good, we can hang out together. Are Judy and Marcus bringing anyone?”

“Judy and Ray are bringing their spouses. Marcus is bringing one of his boyfriends.”

“Then we can be dates. It saves poor Ben from having to dress up, and saves you from finding someone last minute.”

“Great. I’ll see you there then,” he said, obviously relieved. As was Krista. She could play blasé, but inside she was all knots.

Krista stayed for another one, went to the office and got glammed up, then hailed a cab to the hotel. She walked in by herself, which she hated doing but was unhappily getting used to, and headed straight to the bar. When in doubt, head to a place where standing around doesn’t look weird.

The hotel was one of the most prestigious in San Francisco. It wasn’t as swanky as the Ritz, but within San Francisco it was royalty of its own class. The room was decorated as a fine-dining restaurant might be, with white linens, low lights, soft music, and waitstaff standing by. Flowers adorned tables and corners, twinkling lights outlined the bar, and the colors were mute, but vintage posh. She hoped the food was as good as the décor.

At the bar with a splatter of other waylaid individuals, mostly with dates, Krista got an awesomely free champagne. She turned away from an overly chatty bartender to survey the scene, and see if she knew anyone.

She didn’t.

She figured she might hang tight and wait for Sean to show up, or Marcus, or anyone she knew, when Mr. Hartling walked up, drink in hand.

“Miss Marshall, glad you could join us. I truly enjoyed your presentation today.”

“Oh hi, Mr. Hartling. You can call me Krista. And thanks. Truth be told, I was nervous at first. You lot are an intimidating bunch.”

“Yes, I saw Mr. McAdams talking to you. You looked fearful, certainly. I thought it might be that you were underprepared.”

“Oh no, that is usually the least of my problems.” Krista laughed and raised her hand as she said, “Over achiever.”

“Yes, it would seem. And good under pressure. Come meet my Emily.”

It was so cute how proud Tory was of his wife; a suave, high-powered man gaga over his wife of however many years. It was almost a fairytale.

But then, Krista was constantly almost crying over her breakup, so anyone staying together longer than a weekend caught her eye.

Emily was a gracious woman in her late fifties who was elegantly dressed and styled. Her dress was expensive and tasteful. Her hair expensive and immaculate. Her glittering diamonds and jewels expensive and sparkling fabulously. She was congenial and sweet, and probably the perfect host. She received Krista like she might a long-lost friend.

Krista barely got a salutation out before Tory was accosted by a young business type. He excused himself politely, even though normal people would have been put out at the brash interruption, leaving Krista alone with uncertainty and a stranger. She fidgeted nervously for a second, wondering if she should wander away, when Emily leaned into her with a smile and said, “I’ve heard a lot about you, of course. I hear you collect swords?”

Emily had such an easy way about her. She might have been on top of the world in her life as she stood there, the boss’ wife, probably with a handful of her own pursuits, but she was down-to-earth and friendly. She didn’t begrudge Krista her less-than-designer dress or her considerably lower status in life.