Page 51 of One Wealthy Wedding

“What do you think he does in there that’s so secretive anyway?” I ask as we pop the caps of our beers and settle in around the kitchen island.

“I don’t know. Maybe he reads old copies of Playboy? Takes over small countries? I don’t know him that well.”

“How long has he been at Kings Lane?” I ask, like I haven’t googled Theo a hundred times.

“Five years. I joined not long before he did.” George sips their beer. “He’s always been a little bit of an outsider. And because he travels so much, he’s not around the office. You could mistake his office for a temporary one, actually.”

“That’s sad. It’s hard to imagine him being on the outside of anything.”

George shrugs. “He came on later than Jonah and Miles. They were college friends. He was a bartender in the bar at Kings Cove. It’s the speakeasy on the ground floor of the building they own. He was the one who tipped them off to the building’s sale, actually. They brought him on just months before they bought it.”

“How would a bartender know about that?”

“I don’t know. It’s uncanny.” George’s voice lowers to a whisper. “He’s perceptive. Miles told me they brought him on because he used to tell them about trades to make. They made a bunch of money, apparently.” At my surprised expression, they shake their head. “Not illegal information. He’s just a whiz. He can analyze a company’s profitability better than anyone, Miles says. And this was before he went to business school.”

I sip my beer because I don’t know what to say. My words from Wednesday ring in my ears. I underestimated Theo. And it sounds, based on how he reacted, that I’m not the first person to do so. Guilt worms its way through me. “So he’s really good at stock trading, and they hired him?”

“Was. Not is. As far as I know, he doesn’t do it anymore. And he wasn’t just good. He was fantastic. He made millions of dollars by the time he was twenty-five. But he never spent it. I think he gave it away. Why else would a millionaire be bartending?”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” I say.

“He’s not just a mere millionaire now,” George says dryly. “He can afford the dresses. Take one. Because I saw those photos of you at brunch, and yikes.”

I really don’t want to wear a dress that Theo bought, but George is annoyingly persistent. “Fine.” I sigh. “Just one.”

Just one dress turns out to be five, and Lane and Blair ooh and aah over them that night at list night. Blair loves the red silk with the delicate straps. “I don’t want them. You can have them when I’m done,” I tell her. “You’re pretty close to my size.”

“Done with what?” Lane is cross-legged on the soft comforter with a bottle of white wine.

“Done with the marriage, of course.”

Lane snorts and Blair grins.

“What?” I ask, looking between my friends, who may not know each other very well, but who seem mysteriously aligned in their opinions.

“If this marriage ends,” Blair says.

“Yeah, if,” Lane agrees.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve been here before,” Lane says knowingly. She means when she was fake dating Miles, Theo’s business partner, and her brother’s best friend.

“It’s not like that.” I shake my head. Lane was so obviously in love with Miles when I met her. I’m not in love with Theo. I don’t even like him.

And falling for him would make me the worst kind of fool.

“Is it not?” Blair asks. “There was chemistry at the bar that night.”

I roll my eyes. “Theo could have chemistry with a couch.” Blair snorts a laugh. “Besides, we can’t even be in the same room together without arguing.”

Lane wags her brows. “Sounds like foreplay to me.” My stomach does a little flip at the word foreplay, but I ignore it.

“You’re dreaming. I don’t want these stupid dresses, and I’m not going to fall for him,” I respond.

“He’s hot, though. I like my men a little prettier, but damn, he has a bad-boy sort of allure.” Blair sighs from where she’s folded in the armchair I dragged under the window.

I stalk over to the wine and drink it straight from the bottle. Blair laughs again.

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