I chuckled. Brianna was wealthy. Exceedingly so, which made her a target at times. She had the worst luck with men. I always thought she was so desperate to be loved that she gravitated to the wrong type. She was looking to belong—and most of the time, they were looking for her bank account.
“How about you?” she asked. “Life as riveting as always?” Brianna knew I hated my job. She also knew why I did it. She admitted she didn’t understand it, but she supported me as best she could.
We had met at university when we’d both tried to grab the same sandwich at the café. It was the last one, and we glared at each other for a moment, neither of us wanting to relinquish the only decent sandwich they made.
Then she had grinned, her green eyes dancing. “Share?”
“I’ll get some chips and pop,” I agreed.
We’d been friends ever since.
She was wild and bohemian. She ran her own boutique and traveled constantly, finding treasures to fill the shelves. It wasn’t a huge moneymaker, but she loved it and didn’t really need the money. I missed her when she was away, but I understood her inability to stay in one place very long.
“Ah…I met someone,” I admitted, thinking of Logan.
“Please tell me he isn’t one of the parent-approved stiff suits?”
I shuddered, thinking of the few men my parents had tried setting me up with. Dull, uninspired men my father knew. Successful, well-off, and all with the personality of a wet dishrag. But every one in keeping with the lifestyle they wanted for me, which, in their eyes, made them perfect.
“No,” I assured her. “Definitely not approved. I met him on my own.”
“All right. We need dinner. I need details. I’ll meet you at your place at seven.”
“Oh, ah, Logan was coming over.”
“Awesome, even better. I’ll get to meet him and give you my approval. I’ll pick up Chinese on the way over.”
“Sounds good.”
I hung up and glanced out the window. Snowflakes were falling, light and gentle, drifting on the wind. It wasn’t a storm, more like a light dusting. Enough to cover the gray mounds on the sides of the roads and make everything fresh and beautiful again. I would convince Logan to go for another walk tonight once Brianna left. He loved walking as much as I did.
I sent him a quick text, explaining the added guest, and he replied with a smiley face and the words, “Can’t wait.”
I glanced at my phone, idly wondering if I should call my mother. It was Thursday, which normally meant it was dinner with my parents. But I hadn’t heard from her, and my father hadn’t said a word. I knew better than to simply show up at their place—my mother had to stop being angry with me first. Which meant she was waiting for me to apologize. I reached to pick up the phone, then changed my mind. Maybe it would be better to wait and let her cool down. Hopefully if I gave her a little more time, she would be ready to listen, and we would mend fences. I wondered if my father had said anything to her about last night.
I picked up the phone and called Lorie. She answered quickly, always efficient.
“Hello, Charlotte.”
“Hey, Lorie, the party next month—can I change my attendance to add a plus-one?”
“Of course. Is Brianna coming with you?”
I chuckled. Brianna loved the holiday party. Mostly because she loved to rile up my parents and flirt shamelessly with the single men. With her golden-blond hair, green eyes, and the lithesome figure she liked to show off, she caused quite a stir. If her parents weren’t such an important investor to my father, he would no doubt tell me she wasn’t welcome, but because of the status of her family, he allowed it. Unhappily. He always held the party mid-December so as to not interfere with all the other events that happened closer to the holidays. I personally thought he did it early simply to get it over with. It was not his favorite night of the year, but I looked forward to it.
“No, um, I’m bringing my boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t know.”
“We’re pretty new, but I thought he’d enjoy it.”
“I’ll mark you down for two.”
“Thanks, Lorie.”
I hung up and got back to work. I needed to be out by six tonight.I heard him as I stepped off the train. The notes of his guitar and the timbre of his voice. My shoulders relaxed, and I rounded the corner, stopping to look at him. He was in his usual spot, his gaze locked where he knew I would appear. He smiled, his dimple showing, and he directed his voice my way. I approached the bench, knowing he expected me to sit and listen to him before we left. It was his gift to me. I spied Brianna sitting, staring at him in awe, and I crossed to where she was seated.