His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,22

A tipsy older woman laughed and crashed into Sam. “I’m so sorry, dear,” she said. Sam smiled at her, happy that the woman’s glass was empty.

Spread across the property and spilling out of the house, everyone was dressed to the nines. It was like The Great Gatsby had shot through time and arrived squarely in front of her. Another woman traipsed in front of her, wearing a fur shawl, the Virginia spring be damned. Who wears fur still?

Sam skirted the house and found the rear entrance. The original Dutch door opened onto a screened-in patio where one of what she could only assume were many bars stood. Finally, she spotted Connor surrounded by a group of young, beautiful women. They were clearly taken, and all smiled up at him.

A twinge of jealousy pulled at her. What’s your problem? You don’t have any rights to him.

Connor saw her and immediately broke away from the group of girls. “You look great,” he told her.

She bit her lip and looked down. When she’d first pulled the short, fringed black dress out of its garment bag, she’d thought James had gone mad. However, she was so thankful for the relatively low, thicker heels with Mary Jane straps she hadn’t asked questions. Now she knew James had known exactly what he was doing. The dress paired perfectly with the vibe of the event, and the shoes were ideal for walks around an estate. “Thanks,” she said. Her eyes roamed back to the girls.

“Young, pretty things to make my father look good,” Connor explained. “They might as well see the good stock first, right?” he smirked.

“And, what, then your father so they can see what to expect in thirty years?” She snapped her mouth shut, and knew she’d gone too far.

Clouds moved across his eyes. “Ouch,” he said. “Let’s get some champagne, shall we? For me at least.”

“I’ll have one,” she said.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“In a water glass. Make it look like cider.”

“You’ve caught on beautifully,” he said.

He got their drinks, took her arm and directed her toward his father, who was circled by a small group. She drew in her breath to prepare for whatever miserable conversation she was about to endure.

“Then the boy says, I’ve only been a white kid for five minutes and I already hate you black people!” His father had just finished what she could only imagine was the most racist joke possible when they arrived.

Half of the crowd laughed politely, while one young man simply widened his eyes.

“Connor, there you are!” his father said. “And my grandchild-making machine. Isn’t she lovely? Won’t take a sip of alcohol, keeping that system clean as a whistle. Can you believe it?”

“Lovely to meet you,” one of the women said to Sam, offering her hand. “What a gorgeous dress.”

“I’ve told them to hold off until after the wedding,” his father continued. “But,” he said, as he breathed deeply, “with this fresh country air and romantic estate, I can hardly blame them if we have to bump the wedding date up a bit, if you know what I mean. Look at this girl! Legs like a thoroughbred. I tell you, I can’t even imagine how beautiful those grandkids will be.”

Sam couldn’t help but turn bright red. She stared at her feet. Could she actually hate this man? Was that too harsh?

“Great to see you again,” Connor said to the man next to him. He ignored his father’s comments entirely. Was he used to this? What happened to him coming to her rescue?

“Excuse me a moment,” she said. “Ladies’ room.” Instead, she went to the bar and ordered another champagne in a water glass. “When I ask for the cider, this is what you give me,” she told the bartender as she tipped him a ten.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Slightly buzzed, his father’s comments lost some of their sting. She made her way back to the group, but couldn’t help but stare at Connor as she did. Even if he could be a bit arrogant and pompous at times, hadn’t he earned it? Look at him! Every woman there, no matter who they were, lusted after him. Me included, she admitted to herself.

As she finished half her glass, she came up behind him and wound her arm through his. Connor was in the middle of entertaining two middle-aged women who looked at him like they were starved.

“So, this is the lucky girl,” one of the women said, her voice dripping with envy. “To be young again,” she said.

“Connor!”