Page 5 of Moonlighter
By the end of the night I was exhausted and brittle. And that’s when I came face to face with a certain gorgeous hockey player. We’d been accidentally trading stares earlier in the evening. Or, rather, I’dassumedit was accidental. Every time I looked up he was gazing at me. I thought it was awfully forward of him.
And then he approached.
”Hey, Alex. I’ve been waiting all night to speak to you.” He gave me a panty-melting smile. “I was hoping we could finally sit down together for a drink. Maybe go somewhere quieter?”
His approach was so familiar. Soslick,or so I thought. In retrospect, it was just what you might say to someone who was supposed to remember that the two of you spent an entire month of your childhood together on the beach at Martha’s Vineyard.
But I didn’t understand. I thought he was a handsome stranger trying to get under my Dior gown. “Look, I’m flattered,” I’d said. “And I’m sure you’rereallygood company in private.” I even gave him a wink of understanding that now makes me want to die. “But I amnotin the market tonight. I’m whatever the opposite of being in the market is.”
He’d opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it again. Twice. Then an expression I know too well overtook his rugged face.
Embarrassment. A guy like that doesn’t get shot down.
“Right,” he’d said eventually, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Never mind, then. Nice party. Thank you for doing all this for children’s charities.”
He’d given me a polite head bow, plunked his drink onto the tray of a passing waiter, and made his escape. He left the party so fast I could almost see contrails behind him.
It wasn’t until the following day when I learned of my mistake. At breakfast, my assistant, Rolf, asked me if Eric Bayer had found a minute to talk with me. “I sent him over to you at one point, but someone grabbed you before he got there.”
“Eric Bayer?” Of course I recognized the name. “He was at the party?”
Rolf gave me a crooked smile. “You didn’tseehim? Hot hockey player? Defenseman? Pretty gray eyes? He left a note at the front desk before the party, asking if the two of you could catch up. It’s in your itinerary folder. And I assumed you knew each other.”
“A note?” I hadn’t found it.
But then it all clicked, and that’s when the shame set in. Twelve hours too late, I realized I’d blown off an old friend after failing to recognize him.
I wasmortified. As the head of a multinational corporation, remembering names and faces was half the job. I could pick out tech CEOs from across a crowded room. I knew their wives names and their assistants’ quirks. I took pride in remembering everyone I met.
Except Eric Bayer.
Here’s the thing about making a faux pax: youmustapologize immediately. If you don’t, it just gets worse when you see that person again. But I didn’t do it. I didn’t have his address, and I couldn’t think what to say to this man that I’d known when we were both in middle school. Besides—I thought the chances of bumping into him again were low.
Yet here we are.
I’m still embarrassed. But not too embarrassed to eat all three tacos in rapid succession.
“Have another?” Scout offers. “There’s more.”
When I glance around, I see that everyone else has barely begun eating. Max looks at my plate, and then his lips twitch.
“No, thank you,” I say primly.
“Mexican soda?” Scout offers.
“Sure, why not?” I say. “Maybe my tape worm will like that, too.”
There are polite chuckles. But my face flames.
“Now Alex,” Carl says, pushing his plate aside. “Let’s go over your security concerns for this upcoming trip.”
Oh, goody. Another awkward thing to navigate. “Well, I’m probably being overly cautious.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Carl argues. “A man put his hands on you in anger. That’s serious business.”
I take a breath in through my nose and focus all my attention on the older man. I know it’s not my fault that my ex turned out to be a first rate creep. But I still feel ashamed. Even though everyone in this room is here to help me.
Except Eric. I really wish he wasn’t about to hear any of this.
