Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Fuck, dating was hard. I was thirty-four. Marriage had never been one of my big goals in life, but I hated to admit that I’d kind of expected to be married, or at least damn close to it, by now. Unfortunately, I was still standing at the starting line, searching for my partner in this three-legged race called life.
The frustration was made worse by the fact that Sebastian was stupidly happy with Byron, with whom he was living. And then Declan—Mr. No Smile, No Speak Foster—had a fucking fiancé and a baby girl. Not to be a whiny bitch, but… When was it gonna be my turn?
I shoved the thought out of my brain and turned my attention to the performance in time to catch the final crescendo. Simon was brilliant and, thankfully, resembled his older brother very little. It was horrible to think, but it would have been harder to welcome him into our group if he’d been the spitting image of Sawyer.
As he lifted his bow from the strings and the last notes of the piece faded through the room, Simon let out a deep, seemingly relieved sigh. Thunderous applause echoed through the place, and I jumped to my feet as I clapped. I glared at Pierce, who rolled his eyes at me, but he stood as well. But only after a few other patrons joined me. I got it. He’d said that I wasn’t to tell Simon that he was there. His plan was to slip in and out unnoticed. Idiot.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had a crush on Simon, but that was impossible. He’d barely spoken to the man since he’d come to Cincinnati, and I knew they’d not spoken in the long years following Sawyer’s death. Pierce was being weird.
The members of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra stood and bowed to us while we continued to clap. I could see Simon grinning, but I couldn’t tell if he could see me. We were both short like halflings; it was likely that I was lost in the crowd from his point of view. No matter. I’d find him during the mingling part of the evening and congratulate him on his killer performance.
“Shall we go?” Allie inquired with bubbles of enthusiasm.
“Not yet. I thought we’d snag some canapés while we waited for Simon to come out. I want to chat with him for a moment.”
Her smile dimmed, but she nodded and didn’t say anything else. That was good, because I had to grab Pierce’s wrist as the bastard attempted to escape.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t run out the second it’s finished. That looks bad,” I complained.
“I’m not talking to him,” Pierce bit out. He glared at me as he jerked his wrist free. Drama queen.
“I’m not asking you to talk to him.” I forced a wide smile on my lips and jerked my chin toward the servers, who were briskly entering the rotunda in white uniforms, carrying silver platters of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. There was also a bar set up for mixed drinks and nonalcoholic beverages. “Have a drink and a snack. He’ll have to put away his violin and catch his breath before he comes out. That’s plenty of time for you to mingle.”
“Is that why you want me to stick around?” As he spoke, Pierce pointedly stared past me to the woman at my side and then at me. He raised smug eyebrows. Fucker. Apparently, he’d heard what we were saying despite our whispers.
“You know what? I’m gonna go see if they have some iced tea. Would you like one?” Pierce declined. I turned to Allie.
“I think I’ll have the champagne.”
“Great. Be right back.”
I slipped away from Pierce and my date to wade through the hundred other people chatting in groups as they snacked on delicious-looking canapés and sipped alcohol. Normally, I’d be happy to snatch up some champagne or wine, but I’d handled the driving tonight rather than hiring a car. Had to stay clearheaded.
My gaze skimmed over the faces of everyone decked out in dark suits and fancy dresses. There were a few people I recognized from other events I’d attended in Cincinnati. Many were of the usual charity gala, symphony, opera, ballet set who liked to show up, smile, and splash some cash in a flashy way to feel important. Oh, I knew how to splash my wealth around the city, but I always made sure it was done under the name of my charitable foundation. I didn’t need my name tossed about so I could feel better about myself.
I had no illusions about my actual worth in society. This trust fund baby knew he’d done nothing to earn his money, but I did what I could with it to help those who weren’t so lucky in life. And I didn’t need the city to pat me on the back to feel good.