Hot Asset (21 Wall Street #1)(45)

She gives a cool smile and extends a hand. “Sabrina Cross.”

“Lara McKenzie.”

Her smile cools even further. “I know.”

I take a sip of wine, wondering what the heck that means. What does she know? Did Ian tell her about the kiss? “So, you also know . . .” I say it casually, fishing.

“That you’re the SEC investigator looking into Ian? Yep.” She tilts her head and studies me. “But you’re not what I expected.”

“You’ve already seen me. In the restaurant at lunch that day.”

“True,” she admits, taking a sip of her champagne. “But then I was more interested in Ian’s reaction to you than I was you.”

There’s bait there, but I don’t take it, much as I want to.

“I always picture SEC employees in boxy brown suits and clogs.”

“Well, all my boxy suits were dirty, and the clogs hurt my bunions.”

She laughs, and it’s as low and sultry as I’d guessed when I’d seen her laugh at the restaurant with Ian. “I see why he likes you.”

“Yes, men just love my combination of forthright and awkward.”

“Men like the combination of witty and smart,” she corrects.

“Assuming there was a compliment in there, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She takes a sip of her drink and watches me for a moment. “Why are you here?”

I lift my eyebrows at the blunt question, but she merely shrugs. “I’m very protective of Ian.”

“Ian told me you two are close.”

“Did he?” Sabrina says thoughtfully. “Interesting. He doesn’t often discuss our friendship. With anyone. But yes, we’re close. As close as possible to siblings without sharing parents.”

Siblings. I can’t deny that her word choice gives me a fierce stab of relief that the relationship’s as platonic as he’d claimed.

“Are you close with Matt and Kennedy as well?” I ask, both curious and determined not to look too interested in Ian specifically.

“Sure. Kennedy’s a good guy. A little uptight but as loyal as they come. As for Matt . . .” She practically sneers his name. “We have . . . history.”

“He’s an ex?”

“Eh. More like . . .” She waves her champagne around, searching for the word. “A past fling. It ended badly, and I wish regular suffering upon him, and he me.”

“Sounds wonderfully adult,” I say, smiling to soften the sarcasm.

She laughs. “It keeps us entertained.”

“What about Ian?”

Sabrina blinks. “What about him?”

“Does it bother him having two of his best friends at odds all the time?”

“Possibly. He doesn’t hide the fact that we get on his nerves.” Then she frowns. “I guess I’ve never thought about if it really bothers him, though.” Sabrina tilts her head and studies me before continuing. “I’ve never thought about it, but it seems you have. You care about him.”

I take a sip of wine and stay silent.

She doesn’t. “Ian and I have never slept together.”

I keep myself from choking on my wine. Barely. “I didn’t ask.”

Her smile is sly. “But you’ve wondered.”

Most definitely.

“You two grew up together?” I ask, deciding to flip the tables. Ian’s oldest friend clearly has me under a microscope right now, wanting to know who or what I am to Ian. But the exchange of information can go both ways. And I’m more than a little curious as to Sabrina and Ian’s story.

“We did. We looked out for each other.” She turns to watch the slowly setting sun. “Neither of us had a good run of it, but we had each other.”

I want to know more, but it’s not my place to ask, so I take another sip of my wine.

She turns to face me after a moment of silence. “He’s on good terms with his foster father—the last one, the decent one. But I think it still stings that Dave never adopted him.”

I give her a wary look. “I don’t think he’d be overly fond of you sharing this with me.”

“Oh, he totally wouldn’t,” she says with a quick laugh. “But that’s too damn bad. For both of you.”

“What’s this have to do with me?”

“Ian likes you,” she says, turning to face me full-on. “He likes you in a way I haven’t seen in . . . Actually, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him act like this.”

“What, ignoring me altogether?” I say, nodding back toward the party.

“What did you expect?” she asks. “You hurt him.”

My heart squeezes a little. “How can I have hurt him? I don’t even know him.”

“I think you do,” she says quietly.

Before I can reply, the balcony door opens, and Kennedy Dawson and Matt Cannon step out to join us.

Sabrina sighs. “Do you mind, boys? This is girl talk.”

Matt drops an arm over her shoulder and nuzzles her ear. “You telling her about how you’re still trying to get over me?”

“Well,” Sabrina says, using her nails to pick his hand off her shoulder as though it were a piece of trash, “I do definitely remember being over you. I’ve never been with someone quite so content to just lie there on his back.”