Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,104

grilled Si about Leia, if she asks about me. If I had just answered her email, thanked her for the postcard, things could’ve been so different. I’d reach out now, but… He swallowed heavily. Dex won’t be the only one who’ll kill me—

“Tarquin? Tarquin Balfour…?”

He glanced over his shoulder. A short, clean-shaven guy with sandy brown hair worn messily in a topknot leaned in, his eyebrows rising above his Ray-Bans. Unlike most of the rooftop sunseekers, he wasn’t flaunting much skin, choosing a black short-sleeved shirt and dark jeans instead of bathing trunks. He clutched a file folder stuffed with papers against his toned chest and clicked a pen non-stop with his thumb. “I just said a quick hey-ho to ol’ Nico. He said you were here! Great to see you, man!”

Oh, bugger! Do I know you? Tarquin gave his best breezy chuckle and extended his hand. “Hey! Long time, no see, mate! What’ve you been up to?” C’mon, help me out. Drop a name, a place… your job…

He smacked his file folder on the bar and snapped up Tarquin’s hand, shaking it vigorously before letting go. “Oh, the usual, you know?” He spoke rapidly and jittered on the spot like a toy wound up too tightly. His pen-free hand flitted from his puka shell necklace to his stubble-free chin, to his sunglasses as he shifted them onto the top of his head.

Someone’s full of beans. “That’s great.” Tarquin pulled back, a taut smile on his face. Ah… nope. Even without the shades, I still don’t know who the hell you are.

“So, what about you, man? I thought you were in London.”

“I am, but my best mate is launching his private members’ club tonight.”

“Oh! That’s…” Narrowing his gaze, the guy searched the cloudless sky and snapped his pen in a frenzy—chk, chk, chk—until something besides his ballpoint clicked. “Bespoke!” His eyes jagged back to Tarquin. “Bespoke New York, right?” He laughed apropos of nothing. “You mentioned it, like, last summer.”

I did? Tarquin scratched his moustache. Were we drinking? Gambling? Jeez, it must’ve been quite the bender if I can’t place him.

“I saw something about it in Time Out this week, too. It’s that cool red brick building on Greenwich Street…from the 1850s or something?”

“The 1830s.” Catching the bartender hovering, Tarquin pulled his wallet from his shorts’ pocket.

“Ooh, so close! So, what’s my prize—an invite?”

That’s… pushy. Will he go away if I say yes? “Sure. Come any time after nine.” Tarquin’s jaw tensed. “I’ll need the correct spelling of your full name…you know, for the guest list.” And my restraining order.

He bobbed on the spot. “You know, it would be bangin’ if I could bring a plus one. I’m trying to impress her. The whole velvet rope treatment would, you know, slay.”

The cheek! Tarquin swallowed what he really wanted to say. “Uh, sure…whatever.” He tapped his card against the bartender’s payment terminal.

“Cool beans!” The guy tossed another glance poolside. “Hey! You can meet babe now.”

Oh, brilliant. Removing his baseball cap, Tarquin wiped perspiration from his brow. I could do without these people glomming onto us tonight.

“Hey, Leia?!”

LEIA?! Tarquin froze. No! Can’t be.

He dropped his cap on the bar and spun around, spotting a tall redhead wearing large, Jackie O-style sunglasses and a soaked one-piece, her phone and a long white towel in her hands.

Nope. Not her. His body relaxed. My Leia is a beautiful blonde. He slipped his card back in his wallet.

Draping the towel over her shoulders, the woman lifted her shades and looked up, her sunny blue-eyed sparkle and unassuming smile falling into a stunned gape. “Tarquin?!”

He did a double take. Holy fuck! It IS her! He sucked in a breath, a sudden veil of lightheadedness tilting him backward against the bar. “Hiya…” His heart skipped a few beats as his gaze swept her body, the drenched fabric of her bathing suit fueling his memory. Fuck me, she looks incredible, even better than I remember. Meeting her questioning eyes, he fumbled for words. “I mean, hello…again.” Shit. She’s gonna have a go at me. Her email…

“What on Earth are you doing here in—?”

Leia’s male companion jumped in. “Wow! You guys know each other?”

“Uh-huh.” She grinned, a nervous giggle filling her pause. “Nice ’stache, Han Solo. And glasses, too. They suit you.” She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth.

Oh, Christ. I can’t breathe when she does that. Come ON, mate, get it together.

“Cheers, Leia.” Tarquin broke into a wide smile, fighting every urge to swoop in and hold her