Until There Was You(32)

Posey looked around. Mom and Dad, perpetually welded together at any social event, were schmoozing off by the kitchen; she could hear Dad’s booming laugh. Did they really want to change Guten Tag? In her entire life, it had never been discussed. And you know, maybe they could’ve asked her opinion. Asked for some help, being that she had the furnishings to redecorate ten restaurants in Irreplaceable’s barn.

There must’ve been a hundred people here—she recognized the mayor and mean Maya from the chamber of commerce who never remembered her name. Kelsey and Lola from the pastry shop waved; Posey probably stopped there enough to fund a mortgage payment. Sure, she knew everyone. But she was still alone. And being alone at a party, even a party hosted by your parents…well, it sucked. Kate and James had a standing movie date on Friday nights, carved in stone, though how much longer the kid would put up with that, Posey didn’t know.

She glanced at Liam, who was still checking his stupid phone.

“How are you, Cordelia?” he asked without looking up. And did he have to use that name? Huh?

“I have leprosy,” she said.

“Cool,” he murmured, his thumbs texting away. Posey rolled her eyes. Whee! The room spun.

“So, how do they treat leprosy these days?” Liam said, sliding his phone into his pocket, and Posey choked a little on her drink. Okay, first of all, apparently he had been listening. And second of all, hot diggety, he was gorgeous. Eyes so green and clear, just the hint of a smile on his face, like he was just a sin begging for a taker. Posey forced herself to look away, her face practically crackling with heat. Bieber! The man. Was. Edible.

His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed to have no inclination to leave. “Is your daughter here?” she asked.

Liam shook his head. “She’s at a sleepover. Teenagers, you know.”

Wow. Two whole sentences. Well, one sentence and a fragment. Still, it dawned on her that this could be classified as a real live conversation, which in turn made her mind go completely blank. If—just if—she wanted to charm Liam (not that she’d be dumb enough to try, mind you), but if she wanted to make him see that she was someone worth knowing and perhaps regret that he’d ever said anything mean about her, thus altering the course of her life (sort of)—now was the time.

“So,” she offered. Not exactly brilliant repartee. “How’s business?”

“We opened today.”

“Oh.” Wow. They were on a roll now. Think of something to say, idiot, her brain commanded. Otherwise, it was devoid of conversation ideas. She sighed and took another slug of her drink.

“Liam! My man! Dude, how you been?”

Ah, bieber. It was Rick. Rick Balin, world’s worst prom date, New Hampshire’s biggest beer belly. His little finger was still bandaged. Weenie.

Liam took the offered hand. “Hey,” he said.

“Dude, I heard you were back in town! So cool. And that motorcycle place? Awesome. Meant to come by today, couldn’t. I’ve been thinking about getting a chopper myself. Gotta have a sweet ride, know what I mean? Of course you do. What are you riding these days? Dude, we have to hang out. Wanna grab a beer sometime? Catch up?”

Liam’s expression was totally cool…and totally blank. Well, well, well, Posey thought, leaning against the bar with a very slight wobble, Batman didn’t remember Robin. Robin had, of course, gained about seventy pounds, lost half his hair, but still. Kinda funny.

“Man, we had some fun in those days, didn’t we? God, I miss high school,” Rick said, sighing. “Dude, Grey Goose martini, make it dry,” he said to Otto. “I love my Grey Goose,” he added to Liam. He had yet to acknowledge Posey, which was A-okay by her. “Sure, it costs more, but who cares? Gotta have the best. Right?”

Liam gave Posey a level look and smiled. Eyes crinkling, gorgeous, smokin’ hot. He looked right into her eyes, like she was the only other person in this entire restaurant, and Rick the Idiot Balin was their own private joke.

Holy Elvis. She was halfway to Planet Orgasm. Imagine if they bumped heads or something. She took a quick gulp of her drink and looked away.

Hello? Been here, done that regarding Hottie McSin here, a faint little voice said from far, far away. But that smile…and those eyes…

“Hello, hello! Posey, why are you hiding over here? Come out and mingle! Auntie and Max are looking for you!” Gretchen appeared, grabbed Posey by the arm and heaved her away from Liam. “Hi, there. We met a couple weeks ago. I’m Gretchen Heidelberg? The Barefoot Fraulein?”

“I remember,” Liam said, turning that smile to Gretchen, and whatever champagne bubbles were just dancing merrily through Posey’s veins went abruptly flat.

“Holy crap!” Rick brayed. “You’re even more beautiful than on TV!”

Posey turned to the bar to give Otto her glass—she knew better than to have another, that was for sure. When she turned back around, she was presented with Dante’s back, because the two men had flanked Gretchen. Because apparently it was the law that if you were male, you had to worship the Barefoot Fraulein.

Posey tripped off to find her parents. Good thing she hadn’t remembered to wear girly shoes, because it was getting dizzy in here. There they were, Stacia and Max, holding hands. So cute, her parents, and resembling each other more and more these days. They were roughly the same height—six-two—both with the fading blond hair and the strong-boned features of Bavaria. Soon, Posey mused, they’d just sort of grow into each other like two trees.