Page 6 of Ticket to You

A hint of a defensive scowl creeps onto Gemma’s face. “You haven’t even met her.”

Adam tips his glass at Gemma. “But I have met half a dozen otherAtelier Todaywriters. And never once did I think ‘Hey, that’s someone I want to spend more time with. We havesomuch in common.’”

My mouth goes dry. For the third time tonight—and the second time by Adam’s hand—I’m humiliated.

“Hey, you’re talking to an ex-Ateliergirl here,” Gemma says. “And youdohave a lot in common. It’ll just take some digging to find it. At least introduce yourself. You promised.”

“Great,” Adam deadpans. “I can’t wait to talk about the hottest shoe of the season and the correct pattern pairing for stripes.”

The longer I stand here, the more I’m at risk of overhearing another comment from Adam. I turn to the crowd. Adam is out of the question, obviously, but surely there’s someone else—someone better—to get my mind off him and Jane. After a few minutes, I see Golden Boy again, his eyes already on me. I head in his direction at once, keeping my eyes locked on him.

He’s quite a bit shorter than me, has an ever-present grin that makes his face glow, and he put together an outfit that compliments him well. The contrast between him and Adam makes him even more appealing. He looks like the stereotypical “guy you bring home to meet the family”—not that I have a family to bring him home to.

“Well?” he asks, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Was I wrong? Are you and Adam a good pair, after all?”

I shrug. “He’s not my type.” I don’t waste any time diverting the conversation away from Adam. “You said you’re from the California office, right?”

“Couldn’t you guess? I don’t exactly screamManhattan.” Golden Boy gestures to his outfit and I fake a laugh.

Outdoorsyemployees are all about being down-to-earth and supposedly not caring about materialistic things like clothes, but by “avoiding” style, they’re making a statement. Which is what fashion is all about.

“I’m just in town for the year-end meetings. I’m headed home tomorrow night.”

No strings. No way to get attached enough to miss him or to get distracted from my career.I grab his hand and pull him to the center of the room. “Want to dance?”

As soon as we start swaying together, I catch Adam’s eye from across the room. His stance is casual but his face is set in stone, hard and angular.

4

ADAM

Gemma followsmy gaze and curses under her breath.

“Well, Gem, you’ve been begging me to meet Ophelia for almost a month now. But it looks like someone else swiped her first,” I say.Good. Now I can go home early.I place my drink on an empty tray that passes. “See you on Monday.”

“Wait!” Gemma grabs my elbow. “That guy probably asked her to dance and she wanted to be nice. I’m sure Ophelia still wants to meet you.”

“We met, actually. How do you think she got that wine all over her dress?”

“Not the vintage Dior…” Gemma’s mouth hangs open.

“Apparently. Don’t tell me that’s the kind of dress you hold a wake for?”

“I wouldn’t gothatfar. But I should probably send her flowers and a sympathy card.”

“You’re all about fate and destiny, right?”

Gemma nods. Just hearing those words brings a smile that bunches up her round, rosy cheeks.

“Don’t you think this could be fate’s way of telling Ophelia and I that we aren’t meant to be together? That was a particularly disastrous introduction.”

“Orrrthat was fate trying to get you two acquainted. Fate works in mysterious ways.”

I glare playfully at Gemma.

“Justtrust me,” she begs. “Go introduce yourself—without wine in your hand this time—and you’ll learn why she’s one of my very favorite people.”

“Fine. But only because you’re one of my only friends left atOutdoorsyand I need you as an ally,” I say with a smirk.

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