Holiday Bridal Wave - Gwyn McNamee Page 0,32

leaving?

She always checks in at five to see if I need anything else before she heads home for the day.

She must be upset with me about something.

Apparently, having your assistant help you in your matrimonial quest makes for awkwardness after the search is over. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to rely so heavily on her, but it’s not like I have some sort of handbook for how to handle this type of situation.

Hopefully, she’ll be back to normal on Monday. I don’t want things awkward like this forever.

I shove the file into my briefcase and head for the door to my office but stop in my tracks.

Why is Blaire still here?

She sits at her desk, back to me.

“Blaire, what are you still doing here?”

She should have been long gone. I guess Matthew doesn’t believe in being prompt when a beautiful woman is waiting for him.

Figures.

I knew I didn’t like this dickhead from the second she mentioned his name.

Blaire doesn’t answer me. She just sits at her desk, an elbow resting on the surface, her fist tucked under her chin. Her other hand rests on her lap on top of the box containing the sweater Matthew was supposed to wear.

What happened to him?

She looks dejected, and after the way she acted toward me today, I’m not sure that I’m not somehow partly to blame for the furrow marring her beautiful brow.

She sighs heavily. “He didn’t show up. He didn’t call, either. I guess I got stood up.”

The disappointment lacing her words is like a knife stabbing at my gut.

You’re an asshole, Matthew.

But part of me is just a little bit relieved that he is.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Blaire. So, you’re not going to go to the party? You’re just going to go home?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s a party thrown by my best friend’s work. I go every year. I’m still going to go. I guess I’ll just be going alone.”

Shit.

The thought of her going alone brings another pang of something.

This tension that’s hung between us all day needs to dissipate, and I also can’t stand to see her disappointed over this dipshit, Matthew.

She rises from her chair and gathers her things before tucking the box under her arm.

A little levity might lighten the mood. “Maybe your date didn’t show up so he didn’t have to wear that ugly sweater.” I bark out a laugh, but she isn’t laughing with me.

Well, shit. That backfired.

She probably thinks I’m laughing at her, not the damn sweater.

“Good night, Archie. Have a good weekend.” She walks around me, headed toward the elevator without a backward glance in my direction.

“Blaire, I was joking.”

She stops long enough to toss the box into the trash before she pushes the button to summon the elevator. The doors slide open, and she turns to face me.

What I see nearly breaks my heart. Blaire’s really upset, more so than I even realized. Instead of being a good friend to her like she has been for me the last few weeks, I made her feel worse.

Fuck, I made fun of something she was excited about.

I’m an asshole.

“Blaire.”

The doors shut, and the elevator descends.

“Fuck!” I rush over and slam my hand against the button as if that will bring her back up to me.

I can’t believe I made her feel worse.

How the hell do I fix this?

Chapter 11

BLAIRE

Two things are abundantly clear:

Archie is an ass, and I am really, really buzzed.

In the hour since I arrived at the party, I’ve been drowning my sorrows in a steady stream of booze.

It’s pathetic, really.

I’m too old to get drunk to try to comfort myself. But it is what it is. After the last few hours on top of an equally crazy week, I needed an escape.

And I’ll pay for this tomorrow.

But still, I can’t believe Matthew stood me up. My mercy date was a no show. How ironic. Maybe I was a mercy date for him, as well.

God, that’s really, really pathetic.

I down the rest of the green concoction and tap the empty glass on the bar top. “Hit me, bartender. Another Grinch!”

Brandy grabs my arm. “That was your third Grinch in an hour. I think we need to slow the party bus down, Blaire.”

I frown at her. “I have had a rough week. Work was crazy busy, and oh, get this…my hot boss is getting married to a stranger I hand-picked for him. Did you know that?” The combination of all the alcohol and the din of music and multiple conversations taking place