Page 16 of Neighbor from Hell
I shrug and grab a whiskey from the bar. “Come join the others,” he says, and we drift to a couple of corner sofas tucked away from the main bustle.
We settle in, the beat-up leather seats melting under us, and the talk turns to the past, the stuffy dorms, the endless lectures, the stupid pranks we pulled to stay sane. My glass sits heavy in my hand, the whiskey’s smoky edge tickling my nose as I swirl it, half-listening.
“You were always so damn quiet,” James says, leaning back, his voice carrying that old teasing lilt.
“We thought you just weren’t an ass, but you were plotting to take over the world,” Tarquin adds.
The others erupt into laughter. I join in, a low rumble in my chest, though it’s more reflex than feeling.
“You’ve been planning it since you came out of the womb, haven’t you?” he adds, pointing his glass at me.
They laugh again, the sound mingling with the piano tinkling somewhere across the room. I tip my head, smiling faintly, but it fades quickly, the noise settling into a dull buzz as my mind drifts back to the skittish minx in the cottage at the bottom of my garden.
The groom slides in beside me, his suit still crisp despite the hour,
“I thought you’d be the last among us to get married,” I say.
A grin tugs at his mouth. “I thought so too,” he explains, “but then I walk into Nordstrom one day looking for a tie, and see her. She wasn’t like all the others. She was reluctant. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.”
So that’s how she did it. I glance at Camila and catch her sharp eyes on us.
“It’s still hard to believe it’s been this easy to get her to say yes. I’m spooked, honestly, still kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He shrugs, a little laugh escaping.
I feel for the guy, but raining on his parade is just going to ruin his happiness, and why should I ruin it even if it is going to be temporary? “Maybe there’s no other shoe to drop,” I say quietly. “Maybe always expecting the worst to happen is not how we’re supposed to be.” The lie hangs heavily between us, but he doesn’t notice. I take another sip as he studies me over the rim of his glass.
“What about you?” he asks, leaning in a fraction, his tone lighter now. “Should I just carry on assuming there’s no onespecial in your life, even though every woman besides my Camila is banging down your bedroom door?”
The question prickles under my skin, and I run my thumb along the edge of my glass. “There might be,” I find myself muttering, “someone I’m slightly interested in.”
His eyes widen and his brows shoot up so dramatically with astonishment that anyone would think I just confessed to a crime.
“Hold your horses there, James. I distinctly remember saying, slightly,” I say dryly.
“Slightly is a major improvement by your standards,” he notes, his voice rising a notch. “You haven’t shown interest in any woman since Meredith, and that was, what, five years ago?”
I grimace, the name a sour taste I’d rather forget.
“Yeah, well,” My tone is casual even though I already regret the lapse in my judgment. I should have kept my mouth shut. “I’m just a little intrigued that she would be quite happy if I didn’t even exist. In fact, it’s possible that the fact I even breathe irritates her. Normally, I wouldn’t give a damn and would even prefer it that way, but I have to close a business deal that needs her cooperation.”
He laughs, a garrulous bark that proves he’s had more to drink than I originally thought. “Oh wow! Who is this paragon of virtue, and where did you find her?”
“You wouldn’t know her. She’s American.”
“Americans are always impressed by titles. Does she know your are the 12thDuke of Beauclerk?”
“No, and quite frankly, I don’t think it would help my case. Dealing with her is like a stubborn mare.” I think for a moment, before reflecting aloud. “Since she won’t give in to logic, perhaps I should try the charm route.”
“Charming? That’s a tall order for you. You’re God-like and naturally intimidating.”
“Trust me, she’s not intimidated at all,” I admit dryly.
“No offence,” James says with a grin, his elbow nudging mine, “but does she know how rich you are?”
I pause, glass halfway to my lips.
James shakes his head in despair and astonishment as if I’ve missed the obvious. “She doesn’t, does she? She needs to know who you are, Hugh. Not only are you richer than Croesus, you are the most eligible bachelor in our fair island, if not the entire world.”
I shake my head at his ridiculous assertion. He has definitely had far too much to drink.
