Page 57 of My Totally Unfair Deal

“I need a drink,” I say. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll join you.”

Fuck.

She loops her arm in mine, smiling and stopping to greet everyone we pass.

When we reach the bar, she orders another gin and tonic. I get a whiskey.

“I’m glad we didn’t invite Kristin to this,” she whispers. “I was this close, but I didn’t know you’d upgraded.”

“Come again?”

“Your plus one.” She gestures toward Eliza, and I take in her outfit for what must be the millionth time. A short, fitted green Gucci dress hugs every curve, giving the perfect glimpse of her cleavage. The vintage Chanel bag on her shoulder has already sparked whispers, and those nude stilettos? They’d look even better wrapped around my waist.

“Is she from the Vanderbilt family?” my mother asks, leaning in. “I hear a hint of Southern in her voice.”

“I’d put my money on Biltmore,” my father says, joining us. “She comes off far more sophisticated. I’m glad you’re hard-launching her here, son.”

“I can’t believe you chose today of all days for this party.” I grit my teeth. “It’s like you two are the king and queen of being tone-deaf.”

“Harrison Jones…” My mother narrows her eyes. “I can’t help that our annual charity dinner fell on this date, just like I can’t control the weather.”

I walk away from both of them and glance at my watch.

Eliza is smiling, admiring a trellis of wisteria with a group of women, and I decide to calm down from afar instead of dragging her into my mood.

“So?” Sloan Beckham—an old business associate—sets down his glass. “You gonna spill the details?”

“Do I have a ‘come talk to me’ sign on my forehead?” I ask. “Tell me now because I’m confused.”

“You don’t, but I just want to know who your new friend is…” He nods toward Eliza. “You gonna introduce me or should I take my chances?”

“She’s off fucking limits.”

“Is her name off limits, too?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re into her?”

I don’t have to answer that.

He rolls his eyes and sets down his beer. Then, as if “off limits” meant nothing, he strolls over and extends his hand to her.

She blushes as she takes it, and he leans in—offering to show her around.

She’s just a client, Harrison. Just a client…

“Hey there, stranger.” A manicured hand glides across my chest, forcing me to spin around.

I keep my “hello” to myself the moment I see who it belongs to.

“Oh, it’s like that now?” Sarah Auderman—my brother’s former best friend—smiles. “We can’t be friends?”

“We can’t be anything.” I push her hand off. “Who the hell invited you here?”

“Your parents,” she huffs. “Unlike you, they’re trying to move on and make the best of things.”

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