Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(37)
The blonde I sat next to turned and offered her hand, distracting me from my study of Elodie. “This is a good table,” she said. “One of the best I’ve had the pleasure of sitting at, and I’ve been to a lot of weddings.”
I smirked at her assessment. “And how do you evaluate a good or bad table?”
She tipped her wine glass to her lips, took a sip, then said, “I evaluate it based on the attractiveness of its occupants.”
“How very mercenary.”
“I call it how I see it. I’m Val, by the way.”
“Julian. Nice to meet you.”
“So, is the redhead your sister?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I figure two people as attractive as you are have to be related if you’re not together.”
“I disagree. And we’re just friends.”
Val didn’t look too convinced, but I only arched an elusive eyebrow. I enjoyed people who started talking to you like they already knew you. It was a ballsy way to introduce oneself.
Elodie, who sat on the other side of me, was looking around the party now, taking it all in. The bride and groom had just arrived, and everyone clapped. My phone started ringing, distracting Elodie from absorbing the scene. She was a watcher, took people in, focused on the little details. I’d caught her doing it several times now.
She looked at me and laughed, her face lighting up. It took me a second to realise what she was laughing at. My ringtone was ‘Roxanne’ by The Police. I shot her a conspiratorial grin and glanced at the screen, seeing it was my client, Cathy.
These days, I only tended to see one client at a time. More than one and I grew distracted. I stepped away to take the call, lifting it to my ear as I approached the bar and signalled to the bartender for a cranberry juice.
“Cathy, what a pleasant surprise,” I purred into the phone.
“Julian, hello. How are you?”
“All the better after hearing your voice,” I replied, lower now, seductive.
She made a breathy noise in the back of her throat. “I was wondering if you’re free tonight.”
From her tone, I suspected she was ready to take things to the next level. We’d been on several dates, but the right moment hadn’t come for us yet. My gaze went across the room to Elodie. She was laughing at something Keith said, and a fiery, burning sensation travelled up my oesophagus. I needed to get a handle on this jealousy I was feeling. It was counterproductive.
“I’m busy tonight, but how about tomorrow? I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”
“You have?” Cathy asked. I could hear the genuine surprise in her voice. It was one of the things I liked about her. She didn’t have an ego, didn’t take your interest for granted.
“Of course. That dress you wore the other night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“Julian,” she breathed, and I grinned as I got the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“Tomorrow night at eight. Wear something nice. I’ll text you the details of where to meet.” I hung up and slid my phone in my pocket, returning to find Elodie telling an anecdote. She had the entire table’s attention.
“We were at this bar for my brother’s thirtieth birthday. All of a sudden, the fire alarm goes off, the sprinklers come on, and we’re soaked to the skin. As expected, people panic and start pushing to get outside. I trip, fall, and bang my head on the edge of a table. When I come to, the most handsome face I’ve ever seen is directly in front of me. He asks if I’m okay. I say, I am now.” Laughter comes from those at the table. “He asks if I feel any dizziness. I tell him I think I might need mouth to mouth.” More laughter. My lips twitch in amusement. I think of how skilled she is at making up stories off the cuff, when the anecdote starts to sound familiar.
“I’m telling you, he was the sexiest fireman I’ve ever seen. I had to take a chance. So, I asked him if he’d like to get a drink after his shift. I expected him to brush me off, but miraculously, he said yes! I soon realised why. When he left me sitting in an ambulance to be checked out by paramedics, I looked down and saw that my white blouse was completely transparent, thanks to those pesky sprinklers. And I was wearing a fuchsia pink bra to boot!”
Our table mates burst into more laughter, while I narrowed my gaze. I’d heard that exact story from Rose. When she was reading, if she got to a particularly funny or exciting part, she’d tell me about it, and that story was straight out of the latest Sasha Orlando book. Rose had regaled me with it during our phone call a few nights ago.
I thought of her story about dating the stripper, Sebastian, and realised that that too was from the same series of books. Elodie was stealing her stories from fiction. I didn’t know how to feel about it. Part of my fascination with her was how she managed to make all these crazy, adventurous tales seemingly out of thin air.
Now that I knew she was plagiarizing, it took away some of the shine.
Chapter Eleven
Ellen
Julian was looking at me funny.
His features were flat and serious, and I couldn’t tell why. Was I talking too much? Was he annoyed that I was hogging all the attention? That couldn’t be it, because the last time we went out, he’d been delighted when I’d regaled people with fake Elodie stories.