Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,106
York, making Harry Manville’s private club the hot ticket for young creatives and entrepreneurs. Potential members sipped champagne and dined on sweet potato croquettes, bite-sized Angus beef burgers, and mini gourmet grilled cheese while checking out the welcoming interior of reclaimed wood, vintage-inspired lamps, and tufted wingback chairs spread out over four large floors and a rooftop terrace.
“He’s done it again,” said Nick, watching Harry mingle with his American clientele. “It’s only ten o’clock and this place is already rammed. This crowd doesn’t usually head out until eleven—at the earliest—so that’s saying something.” He did a double take, catching Tarquin tossing back his fourth glass of bubbly. “Hey! Pace yourself, little brother. You’ll be sozzled by the time she gets here.”
“If she gets here.”
“She’ll come with Xavi.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” Tarquin blinked, his scratchy contact lenses feeling like a sheet of sandpaper in his eye. I had to opt for style over comfort tonight, didn’t I? Should I head to the loos, switch to glasses? What if I miss her while I’m in there? He placed his empty champagne flute on a passing tray then tugged at the cuffs of his suit jacket, the one Leia liked, the one he’d worn for their goodbye dinner and secret shag on Tower Bridge. Seven months later and look at me. I thought I’d moved on, but seeing her was like throwing gasoline on smoldering embers. If I could just speak to her alone, apologize for not emailing back all those months ago…
He stopped fussing with his Darth Vader cufflinks and pulled out his phone. Shit. Zero notifications. I can feel her slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do about it. His frown roamed the sea of revelers, their relaxed smiles and carefree laughter doing little to calm the unease rolling in his stomach. A foot away, a flock of leggy models lingered, giving him and his brother approving come-hither glances. “Still nothing from Leia. I hope that doesn’t mean what I—”
“Tarq! Relax, will ya? Here. Take this.” Nick thrust another glass of champagne at his brother and traded mischievous smiles with their flirty audience. “Christ, do you have to be such a buzzkill?”
A server leaned in with a tray of bite-sized indulgences. “Pork slider with apple chutney?”
“Uh, no. Ta.” Tarquin gulped his drink as his phone buzzed in his other hand.
Finally! He lowered his flute, a flutter of anticipation swooping in his belly as he glanced down.
Surprise! I made it!
The tingly citrus of the vintage champagne soured on Tarquin’s tongue. Cressida?
Twenty-One
LEIA
It’s her. Cressida! My god, she’s even more beautiful in real life.
Leia’s stomach pinched into a knot. Tarquin, a dozen feet away surrounded by Nick and several friends, offered a wide smile and a flute of glistening champagne to a tall, striking blonde in a summery halter-neck gown.
Shit, shit, shit! Leia’s pale pink nails dug into her satin clutch purse as she slouched behind a towering trio of guys furiously debating the latest New York Knicks trade. This was a BIG mistake. Peering around the ESPN wannabe sportscasters, she nudged her hair worn loose and wavy away from her face and spied Tarquin moving in for a kiss. Her stare didn’t linger. “I-I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, you should!” said Xavi, stealing two glasses of bubbly from a passing server. “If anyone deserves a night of free fizz and food, you do, Ley.” He ogled her curves, resplendent in the sparkly emerald cocktail dress gifted to her by Simon. “Chill, have a drink.” He foisted a flute her way and angled toward an incoming tray of phyllo-pastry-wrapped eats. “At least give it an hour, babe.”
Why did I tag along with him? Leia flinched. “Would you stop calling me that! I’m not your babe!” she snarled under her breath. “How many times do I have to tell you? We are not a thing! We’re workout buddies—that’s it. And you know I don’t drink.” Backing away, she eluded another eyeful of Tarquin and his gorgeous girlfriend. I have to get out of here before he sees me. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I’m going. You stay, have fun.”
Xavi pouted above the two full champagne glasses in his hands. “You’re bailing on me? But I told Nick I’d be bringing…”
Leia didn’t stick around to answer. A blur of shimmery sequins, she snuck past a cluster of boisterous young actors posing for the party’s roaming photographer and bolted outside into humidity so oppressive her airy tulle