Page 26 of The Wingman

“I know.” She gives me an innocent, slightly wild smile, and I laugh harder.

“You don’t think he’s attractive?”

She makes a horrified face. “Volkov? You’re kidding, right?”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me as we walk down the street. “I think he’s kind of hot in a scary way. He’s got that merciless, mysterious thing going on.”

Georgia looks stricken. “He’s not actually your type, right?”

“God, no,” I rush out. “I like to laugh, and I don’t think Alexei actually knows how.”

Born in Russia, his family immigrated to Canada when he was a kid. He doesn’t have an accent, but there’s somethingserious, watchful, and a little predatory about Alexei that I can see being attractive to the right person.

“And I’d like someone a bit friendlier,” I add.

“Like Hayden.” Her mouth tips up.

“No, not like Hayden.” My face goes red. “We’re just friends.” What is it about me that makes people jump to that conclusion constantly? “Anyway, don’t listen to what Alexei said about your shoes.” My eyes linger on the pretty bows, so feminine and flouncy. “They’re beautiful.”

She kicks her foot out, admiring them with a happy sigh as we wait for the light to change. “Bright shoes cheer me up, especially when it’s raining every day. The winters here can be such a bummer.”

I look down at my responsible work loafers. They’re not ugly or anything. They have a little gold buckle, and they’re comfortable. They match the rest of my corporate wardrobe. When they wear out, I buy a new identical pair.

They’re not exactly inspiring, though, and they definitely don’t cheer me up. My gaze moves to Georgia’s shoes.

When I look up again, she arches a brow. “Do you need to be alone with my feet?”

I give her a quick, slightly self-conscious smile. “No, I want to buy shoes like yours. I don’t have anywhere to wear them and they wouldn’t match anything else I own, but?—”

“If you wait for the opportunity to wear the fun things you have, you’ll be waiting a while,” she says softly. “Wear what you love whether it’s out on a date or to the grocery store.” Her mouth curls up. “You should have seen the looks I got in medical school from the male students. Profs, too. I think a pair like these would suit you,” she says as the light changes and we cross. “We’ll get you a pair tonight. A new pair of shoes is like an omega-3 for your soul.” Her smile turns coy and playful. “I’m a doctor, so I know what I’m talking about.”

I bite back a big smile, hesitating. With her tailored clothes, shiny hair, and impractical shoes, Georgia has the put-together, polished vibe of old money. “I don’t know if I can afford the places you shop.”

She waves me off. “I usually buy on consignment. I hate spending money.” She glances behind us, at the arena still visible from a few blocks away. “Don’t tell that to the Russian, though. He thinks I’m a spoiled little rich-girl princess.”

My eyes narrow, and under my studying gaze, she shifts like she’s uncomfortable.

“Why does he think that?”

“Just easier, I guess.” She stops in front of a storefront and gives me a broad, excited smile. “Here we are. Let’s get you some beautiful clothes.”

CHAPTER 12

DARCY

“Now, this is interesting.”

Half an hour later, Georgia has a pile of clothes gathered for me to try on. Her head tilts as she studies a bright floral minidress that looks like something from the seventies.

My eyebrows go way up. “That looks like my grandmother’s Chesterfield.”

“Then your grandmother has great taste. You don’t know if you like things until you try them on, Darce.”

I smile at her use of my nickname.

“Is it okay that I call you Darce?” she asks. “That’s what Hayden calls you.”

My heart warms. “Of course.” When my gaze swings back to the dress, uncertainty rises up my throat. It’s so bright, like the tangerine dress I donated when I moved out of the place I shared with Kit.

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