Page 119 of A Very Merry Enemy
The spell breaks.
I drain the rest of my champagne and grab another glass from a passing server. The music continues, and time moves forward the way it always does at events like this. I make small talk with people from my past and several ask me about the baking contest in two weeks.
And then I see her.
Lindsay Moore walks through the entrance in a green dress that shows off her figure perfectly. Her blond hair is styled in loose waves that look effortless but probably took an hour. She’s beautiful and confident and walking straight toward Lucas.
My stomach drops so fast, I feel lightheaded. Knowing that he dated her makes jealousy rage inside of me.
Lindsay was one of my friends in high school. We were on student council together. We went to the same parties. We studied together sometimes. And then, years later, after I left for Paris, she dated Lucas.
I watch as she approaches him where he’s standing with his friends. I watch his expression change from relaxed to polite. She says something that makes him smile in that friendly way he has when he’s being courteous but not particularly interested.
When she touches his arm, something hot and ugly twists inside me.
I’ve never experienced jealousy like this. It makes me want to cross the room and physically remove her hand from him.
“They dated,” Sammy says beside me, sipping from his flask. He appeared next to me without me even noticing. “For about a year.”
“Yeah,” I manage to say through gritted teeth. “I know.”
“He considered marrying her,” Sammy says.
I turn to him. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to know what you almost lost,” he tells me.
Lindsay leans closer to Lucas and says something. He laughs at whatever it is. She touches his arm again, more deliberately this time, letting her hand linger on his bicep.
My champagne glass is in serious danger of shattering in my grip.
They continue chatting and Lucas glances toward the reception tent where music has started to play. The dinner space must be ready because couples are starting to drift in that direction.
No. Please, no.
Lindsay is asking him to dance and Lucas is agreeing. He said yes to her.
I watch them walk toward the reception tent together. Lindsay’s hand is still on his arm, possessive and familiar. They’re both smiling and talking and I might be sick. Or commit murder. It’s hard to tell at this point.
“You gonna let that happen?” Sammy asks.
I can’t respond. I can’t move. I can’t do anything except watch Lucas disappear into the reception tent with my old friend, who also happens to be his ex-girlfriend. Lucas dated her after I left. She touched him and kissed him and was with him while I was in Paris pretending I was happy.
“March over there right now,” Sammy says. “You’re both being stubborn idiots.”
He grins at me, and I recognize that look. It’s his scheming face. “Okay then, give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“What does that mean? Are you drunk?” I ask him, knowing he’d never ever support this.
He scans the cocktail area with purpose. “We need to findyou someone to dance with. Someone Lucas will definitely notice and absolutely hate seeing you with.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I tell my brother.
“Trust me on this.” He points across the room decisively. “There. Jake’s friend. The tall one in the navy suit. What’s his name? Derek? David? Dylan! That’s his name.”
I recognize him from earlier when I was moving into the seating area.
“Perfect. Dylan it is.” Sammy looks him over. “He’ll do. He’s exactly the type that will make Lucas lose his damn mind. Plus, I saw him check you out earlier.”
