Bryce motions vaguely behind him. “I’m here with some teammates, so don’t mind me until then. I can see you’re busy... ” His eyes drift to Reed and light up. “Hey, you’re Reed Rivers!”
“And you’re Bryce McKellar,” Reed replies smoothly, extending his hand. “I’ve got season tickets. Congrats on last season. I can’t wait for this upcoming one.”
“Thanks. Wow. My sister is obsessed with you, man. What a trip.”
“Your sister’s a musician?”
“An amazing singer-songwriter. She plays piano. She’s two years younger than me—going to USC, actually.”
“Oh no. Yours is a house divided.”
Bryce chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a filthy traitor. But we still love her. Just barely, though.” He chuckles. “Hey, how can I get my sister’s music to you? You’d go crazy for it. She’s the next Beyoncé.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t accept unsolicited demos, Bryce. No exceptions. But, as a favor to you, and only you, so don’t tell anyone, I’ll check out your sister’s Instagram when I get a free minute.”
“Really? Wow. Thanks!”
“Your sister’s music is posted there?”
“Yeah. She always posts her stuff there.”
Bryce tells Reed his sister’s handle while Reed makes a note on his phone. And then, Reed shakes Bryce’s hand and says, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a hot date with a gorgeous woman.”
“So do I, as a matter of fact,” Bryce replies, winking at me. “It’s been great meeting you.”
“You, too. Kick ass next season.”
“I will.”
There’s a beat. During which I feel like I’m going to pass out. Or barf. Or both. And then, both men say, “Georgina?” at the exact same time—a strange turn of events that would be comical, if it weren’t so damned mortifying.
Of course, it’s Reed, the man used to being king of the world on a whole other level than Bryce, who fills the awkward beat. Reed says, “Are you ready for our midnight date, my beautiful Cinderella?”
At Reed’s comment, Bryce’s face falls, full understanding crashing down on him—and I have to press my lips together to keep from giggling at his cartoonish expression. Not because I’m taking any pleasure in this awkward, embarrassing moment. But because it’s now clear Bryce assumed I’d been taking Reed’s drink order when he first walked up, not getting ready to head to Reed’s house to bone him. And seeing him figure things out is genuinely amusing to me. But, also, simultaneously, rather unpleasant.
“I need a minute,” I say to Reed. “Bryce? Can we chat for a second?”
Bryce looks like a deer in headlights. But he nods and follows me to a corner.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, before Bryce can speak. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. And I didn’t know Reed would be here, either. I had no intention of humiliating you.”
“You said you’d be getting off work at two thirty,” he says dumbly. “It’s only midnight.”
“I wasn’t lying,” I say. “Without my knowledge, Reed arranged with my boss to get me off a couple hours early.”
“What?”
I flinch at his sharp tone. If I felt like giggling at his reaction earlier, I don’t now, as his shock seems to be morphing into anger before my eyes.
“I met Reed earlier today,” I say, my heart pounding. “At that event I was running to when we bumped into each other. But that doesn’t matter. Even if I hadn’t met him, I was going to call you tomorrow to tell you I don’t think we’re compatible.”
“Not compatible?” Bryce says, like I’ve just said I think the world is flat. “But... we’ve got amazing chemistry. I told you—you’re stone-cold wife material.”
“But, see. That’s the thing. I’m not. I mean, I might be one day. But not now. I’m not looking for a relationship, Bryce. And it’s clear to me you are.”
He looks disgusted as it dawns on him: if she’s not looking for a relationship, then she must be headed off with Mr. Music Mogul for a meaningless night of fun... which therefore means she’s not even close to the wife-material kind of girl I thought she was. “But isn’t he, like... forty?” he blurts.
My jaw sets. “He’s thirty-four.”
“What the hell, Georgie? I know he’s rich and connected and all that, but—”
“I don’t care about Reed’s money or connections. And screw you for implying that. We’ve got chemistry, plain and simple.” God, I hope I’m telling the truth about that. Is it possible I’m being blinded by Reed’s power and money and the fact that he has the ability to make Alessandra’s dreams come true? I don’t think that stuff is what’s attracting me, and making me look past some kind of dickish comments, but I can’t deny Reed’s star power is part of his appeal. But only because he’s so confident and sure of himself. I mean, if Reed weren’t “Reed Rivers,” but equally confident and commanding, I’m sure I’d still be willing to traipse off to his house tonight, for what’s almost assuredly going to be the best sex of my life. Wouldn’t I?