Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,58

living with him—surrounded by him.

God, I was screwed.

It didn’t help when he held the door open for me into the dimly lit bar. Or when he rested his hand against my back, guiding me to a stool. The rough scrape of his hand against my skin sent tingles up my spine. The utter gentleman he was, waited for me to be seated first before grabbing his own.

“Another glass of champagne?” he asked.

“Just a red wine, please,” I asked the bartender.

Nico ordered the same, and we both sighed, the tension easing with our first sip. I closed my eyes, the soft murmur of conversation mixing with the clink of glasses on a table. Friends laughing over the easy jazz filtering through the speakers. All of it working to let the stress of being on for everyone fade away.

“I didn’t notice any family there today,” I said, breaking the silence.

“I could say the same about you. Our engagement party resembled a shipping convention more than a gathering of friends and family.”

“True. But my dad was there—unfortunately—and Rae and Nova. They’re like my family.”

“I know you mentioned your mother passed, but is there no one else?”

“I never knew much about my father’s side of the family. He wasn’t close to them and apparently became even more distant when he married my mother. My mother was an only child, and her mother lives in Italy. My grandfather passed away soon after my mom died, and my grandmother moved, not really coming to visit anymore. I think it’s hard on her.”

I took another fortifying sip of wine, hiding any lingering resentment that my grandma put a wall up between us.

“But you?” I narrowed my eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You can’t distract me.”

His lips tipped into the tiniest of smiles, knowing I’d caught him doing just that. “I told you. My parents died, and I didn’t have any siblings. I have a grandfather in Charleston, and he can’t really travel easily for a weekend party.”

“Will he be at the wedding?”

“He’d kill me if I got married without him there,” he said, affection changing his tone to one I’d never heard before. Warmth slipped through my chest at his endearing smile.

“You’re close to him.”

“He’s the only family I have left, and he taught me everything I know. He built our company from the ground up.”

My brows furrowed. “I thought K. Rush Shipping was newer. When I looked into it before applying, I thought it was only ten years old?”

His eyes flicked away from mine. “It is. His company hit a few stumbling blocks before I had a chance to work there.”

“What’s his company’s name? Maybe I remember it.”

“It was a small company. You wouldn’t recognize it.” Nico shook his head and waved the question away, going back to who attended the reception. “And you may not have had much family there, but you knew almost everyone.”

“I grew up in this world.”

I’d attended galas since I was little. I’d done all the charities and business events that included mingling with other companies. It was its own small world within the world.

“So, why not work for your dad?”

Such a simple question with so many difficult explanations.

“To keep it short—I’m a woman.”

“I’ve noticed.”

I sipped my wine to hide the heat bleeding into my cheeks at his blatant perusal of my femininity.

“Well, in my family, that means I have a role to play. I’m to marry someone who would fit into the company and be able to take it over. And my job would be to be a socialite. Sit on charity boards, be a public face for Mariano Shipping. A freaking mascot.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It isn’t. Even if I tried to be. Despite knowing what my future held, I followed my passion. I grew up in this world, and I loved it. I figured maybe I could be more than a mascot. And if nothing came of it, at least I tried. I had to believe in the future they painted. My parents had an arranged marriage, and my mother told me about how they hated each other but fell in love. She told me how I’d marry a good man and to trust them. She’d tuck me in and talk to me like it was our secret that she’d have the final say in who I’d marry, and she’d always promise to pick the most handsome of men for me.” Memories pressed heavily on my chest. “Then she died, but I still trusted my