Love on Lexington Avenue - Lauren Layne Page 0,32

He wasn’t smiling, but if the girl’s obvious lean-in was any indication, she was very into the scowling, smoldering vibes Scott was putting out.

“So, which one of you’s from out of town?”

“Hmm?” Claire turned back to rumpled-suit guy. He was even more attractive up close, though his eyes looked just a little unfocused, making her think he was probably a couple of drinks ahead of her.

He tilted his head back in the direction of Scott. “Your brother. I’ve got a sister myself. Love her. But wouldn’t be spending a Saturday night with her if we lived in the same city. I figured one of you must be visiting and this is your chance to catch up.”

“Oh, right.” It was a pretty solid observation that most thirty-something siblings didn’t go out on the town on a weekend night, and she bumped the guy up a half notch, even though his smile was a little practiced and bland. And he wasn’t putting off creepy serial-killer vibes, which was a very big bonus.

“I live a few blocks south of here,” she said vaguely, deliberately trying to steer the conversation away from her “brother.”

“Yeah? I’m around the corner. Just moved from FiDi, still getting used to the neighborhood.”

“You like it so far?” She took a sip of her wine.

He smiled, his teeth straight and perfectly even. She tried to remind herself that it was simply a measure of good orthodontic work and not a sign of lack of character.

“I like this bar,” he said in response. Leaned in slightly. “Like the people in it.”

She met his eyes, a startling shade of blue, and realized that he was, without a doubt, flirting. Claire felt a surge of pleasure. Not at the guy so much, he was a dime a dozen in the finance game in this city. But at the sheer victory of doing something about her own life, instead of letting life merely happen to her.

She shot another glance at Scott. A brunette had joined the mix, leaning slightly on her pool cue in a way that showed off her ample cleavage.

“I’m Jesse,” her companion said, extending a hand with a smile.

“Claire.” She smiled back.

Jesse held her hand just a beat too long, and Claire realized comfortably that Scott had been right on target with this approach—and that if she wanted a one-night stand with this guy, it was hers for the taking.

Chapter Nine

SUNDAY, AUGUST 11

Bloody Mary?”

Scott glanced up from his friend’s couch where they’d been watching the Yankees day game. “You make brunch cocktails now?”

Oliver Cunningham held up a glass bottle. “I buy premade Bloody Mary mix from the fancy grocery store across the street and add vodka.”

“Sure, pour me one of those,” Scott said, leaning back on the couch. “Don’t put a garnish on it though. Keep it manly.”

“Not even bacon? A brunch place up the street puts bacon in their Bloodies.”

Scott glanced back toward the kitchen. “You got any bacon?”

Oliver held up a plate piled high with an obscene amount of bacon for two people.

Scott gave an affirmative nod. Yes, on the bacon.

“For the record,” Oliver said, as he mixed the drinks, “it was between Bloody Marys and an elderflower Prosecco cocktail with an edible flower garnish that Naomi tried to tell me was ‘delish.’ ”

“I’m suddenly not so disappointed that she bailed on us.”

Earlier in the week, Naomi and Oliver had invited Scott over for brunch, but at the last minute, Naomi had flown to Chicago to fill in as a keynote speaker at some entrepreneur event. Had it been anyone else, Scott probably would have suggested they reschedule. A brunch date between two guys was a little out of his usual social routine. The idea of brunch in general annoyed him. What was wrong with a cup of coffee for breakfast and a ham sandwich for lunch?

But he made an exception for Oliver. They went way back, and the guy felt more like a brother he could sit in silence with than someone he had to make small talk with over mimosas and baked eggs.

He glanced at his friend, who’d plopped down on the couch and was munching a piece of bacon. “We’re not having baked eggs, are we?”

Oliver held up his bacon platter. “I have a pile of this, and I was going to scramble some eggs. Maybe.”

Scott nodded his agreement with this plan. They ate their bacon and drank their drinks in companionable silence as the Yankee pitcher loaded the bases, and then struck out three batters