“As long as it’s about what positions I plan on putting you in after I slip you out of this dress tonight, sure.”
She sighed. “I’m being serious, Dillon.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay. What’s up?”
“Why’d you tell me that you were in New Jersey the morning we were supposed to meet in Central Park?”
Cocking his head to the side, his hold on her waist tightened. “Because I was in New Jersey. That was weeks ago. Why are you asking me about this now?”
“Why are you going away to Florida in October?”
He stopped moving, his eyes narrowing on her. “Why are you answering my question with another question?”
“Because you’re not answering mine,” she replied without missing a beat.
He dropped his hands to his side. “Emily, just get to your fucking point.”
Taken aback by his response, she studied his demeanor for a second. “You told me you were in New Jersey that morning because some guy from Japan flew out and wanted to meet with you personally, correct?”
“Yeah, Emily, he wanted to meet with me. I met with him and gained his account for the firm. Like I said, get to the fucking point already.”
Still shocked at the way he was acting under her scrutiny, she drew in a deep breath. “My point, Dillon, is that Trevor just said you two are going away on business in a couple of weeks to meet with the exact same Japanese gentleman whom you already had claimed to have landed an account with.”
Emily watched his eyes scan the room as if debating on what to say to her. Waiting for his response, she impatiently crossed her arms.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes traveled back to hers. “Okay, I lied.”
“What?” she asked breathlessly, the feeling of rising bile quickly making its way into the back of her throat. “Where were you?”
Although she pulled away, he circled his arms around her and drew her near. “That was the morning…” He hesitated a second. “I was picking up the engagement ring.” She parted her lips to speak, but he continued. “They thought there was a problem with the set, and I got held up there. I almost fucking lost it, thinking that I was going to have to go somewhere else to get one.”
Before she could question him, his mother floated over—her blonde hair twisted into a tight bun, which only further exaggerated her high cheekbones.
“Dillon, Uncle Bruce and Aunt Mary just arrived. They’re not feeling well with their emphysema. Damn smokers,” she huffed. “Anyway, they want to say hello to you and Emily. Do me a favor and go over and greet them.” With the flick of her wrist, she motioned in the direction of the couple sitting comfortably at a table across the room. Each with their own breathing machine anchored next to them.
Dillon reached for Emily’s hand. “Sure, we’ll be there in a second.”
“Actually, I need to use the restroom,” she replied, walking away from him. “Go ahead without me, and I’ll meet you over there in a few minutes.”
Tossing his hand through his hair, Dillon looked to her and nodded. As he crossed the room with his mother, Emily let out a sigh. She didn’t need to use the restroom. She needed a breather to clear her racing thoughts. Confusion spun through her mind. She didn’t understand why, even though she had explained that she knew about the upcoming trip, he had continued to lie to her. She understood that he couldn’t actually tell her where he was on that particular morning—especially if he was indeed purchasing her ring—but here, right now, why not just confess to it? When one of the waiters approached her with much-needed bubbling champagne, she earnestly plucked two glasses off the tray, downed one, and then thanked him. With that, she turned in the direction of the terrace, only to discover Gavin watching her every move.
Effectively ignoring him, she made her way outside.
Gavin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to drag his eyes away from Emily as she exited the restaurant. She looked like a princess—so beautiful that she made his chest ache with the need to touch her. Even though laughter and conversation between Stephanie, Fallon, and Tina hummed around him, he couldn’t help the urge of somehow finding a way to follow her outside. His chance came when Trevor approached the group.
“Anyone need a drink?” Trevor asked. “I’m going over to the bar.”
“Get me and Tina an Alabama Slammer each,” Olivia piped out, adjusting the straps to the silver dress she was wearing. “Actually, get us two each.”
Trevor nodded at her request.
Rising to his feet, Gavin smiled. “I need another, and I’ll take a walk with you.” He turned to Stephanie. “Did you want something?”
“No, I’m okay, but thank you.”
Feeling like the slithering snake he knew he was for leaving Stephanie like that, Gavin surveyed the crowd in an attempt to locate Dillon. He found him consumed in a conversation among a few men that appeared to be his age. Gavin figured that they were his friends from high school or college. As he and Trevor approached the bar, it was apparent to Gavin—based on the look in Trevor’s eyes—that his friend knew something was up. Trevor placed the order with the bartender and turned to Gavin.
“You don’t need a drink, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Gavin stated, his gaze moving over the room before coming back to Trevor. “I want to talk to Emily for a few minutes. Keep an eye on Dillon for me.”
The bartender slid the glasses across to Trevor.
“What about Stephanie?”