collared shirt hugging his chest. He was dressed no different than any other male member, but somehow, he’d made smart casual look sinfully appetizing. Perhaps it was the buttons he’d left undone, giving me and every housewife and debutante in the vicinity something to dream about later. He hadn’t bothered to tuck the ends of his shirt, either, although it wouldn’t have helped. Jamie’s sex appeal wasn’t exactly something you could mute.
He was out of place, making me wonder what the hell they were even doing here. I’d only just convinced myself that it was a coincidence they were here until I realized Jamie was making a beeline for our table, with Ever and his mother following closely behind.
My parents’ backs were turned to the room, so they’d yet to see them approaching, but the Portlands had, and the air quickly became charged with seething anger and old hatred.
“Barbette, you seem tense,” my mother observed while remaining completely oblivious. “Why don’t you visit Klara today?”
Before I could answer her, welcoming the chance to escape, the trio reached our table.
“Well, isn’t this a treat?” Jamie greeted.
Startled, my parents turned in their chairs to find Jamie, Ever, and Evelyn standing a couple of feet away. Of course, the only one who seemed to be enjoying this awkward encounter was Jamie.
The Portlands all had matching expressions of anger and distaste while my parents, caught in the middle, floundered for an appropriate reaction.
“Forgive me,” my father stammered. “I’m afraid you caught us by surprise. Barbette was just telling us that you wouldn’t be able to make it.”
Jamie, finally gracing me with his attention, smirked. Looking away, I found both Evelyn and Ever frowning their confusion. Of course, neither had known anything about the invitation.
“Join us, won’t you?” my mother graciously offered, which saved them from responding and me from explaining. The moment the invitation was extended, Mr. Portland angrily slammed his napkin on the table and stormed away. His wife rushed after him, but their son lingered behind. Jason looked ready to retaliate for the intrusion and for much more while Ever and Jamie stared back at him unmoved. Eventually, painstakingly, he walked away.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Mrs. McNamara offered as Ever dutifully pulled a chair out for her. Kissing my cheek, he then took a seat between us while shame burned the skin of my nape. I knew Jamie had seen the affectionate display. There was only one empty seat left, and I held my breath, waiting for Jamie to take his place next to me.
“Nonsense,” my mother lied with an awkward smile. “It’s good to see you again, Evelyn. Perhaps we can finally discuss the wedding?”
As if I’d just been caught red-handed, my gaze flew to Jamie. He was already watching me, hands shoved in his pockets, smug expression gone. When my lips parted to say something, his eyebrow rose expectantly.
“Yes, I’d like that,” Evelyn began before noticing that her nephew was still standing. “Jamie, aren’t you going to sit?”
“Actually, I thought I’d play a round of golf.”
“Golf? You don’t golf,” I blurted before I realized where I was and who was listening… and that Jamie wasn’t mine. The hush that fell over the table as I became the focus had me squirming in my seat.
I was expecting to see smug satisfaction when I peeked at Jamie through my eyelashes. Instead, there was only lust.
He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and lowered his eyelids until he looked sleepy and hungry all at once. “You don’t know me anymore, Bette. There are a lot of things I do now, and I do them stunningly well.”
Before anyone could respond to Jamie’s blatant innuendo, he spun on his heel and strolled from the room. His presence hadn’t gone unnoticed, and neither had his departure. I’d seen more than one wandering eye follow him from the room. Jamie was the kind of thrill every girl sought at least once in her life.
Maybe that was all he’d been for me, too.
Except… thrills weren’t supposed to last this long, were they?
Feeling an elbow nudge into my side, I turned my head just as Ever leaned over with a goofy grin. “You’re drooling,” he teased.
“I am not.”
He gave me a knowing look before glancing at our parents, who were discussing venues. We hadn’t even set a date yet, though none of them seemed to have noticed.
“What are you even doing here?” I asked.
Scratching his head, he shrugged. “It was either here or Denny’s.”
“I mean, what are