I giggle into the embrace . . . okay, she isn’t what I imagined.
Jameson smiles and then leans in and kisses my cheek. “Lovely to meet you, Claire. I’ve heard so many good things.” He gives me a genuine smile, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh, thank God . . . he’s not as scary as I thought.
“Just so you all know, I am Claire’s favorite Miles. Just putting it out there,” Christopher says as he raises his champagne glass to me.
“Actually, I am,” Tristan replies deadpan as he pulls my chair out.
I smile and take a seat next to Emily.
Tristan sits beside me and takes my hand on my lap for reassurance.
I love him.
“So, Claire,” George addresses me as the group listens in. “You own Anderson Media?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles warmly. “I knew your husband. He was a good man.”
“He was.”
“I attended his funeral. It was a beautiful service.”
I smile sadly, wishing the conversation hadn’t gone this way.
Tristan squeezes my hand, and I gratefully squeeze it back.
Elizabeth changes the subject. “So you have children?”
Oh fuck . . . this is the night from hell. “Yes.” I smile. “Three boys.”
“How do they like Tristan?” Christopher laughs. “I hope they’re giving him a run for his money.”
“It would be payback if they did,” George mutters dryly. “He was a coot of a kid.”
The group laughs, and I feel a little more at ease.
“Do you want to go and get a drink?” Tristan asks me.
“Yes, please,” I answer a little too eagerly.
“I’ll come,” Emily says. She’s attractive and lovely—naturally beautiful and refreshingly unpretentious.
We stand and make our way to the bar. “What do you want, babe?” Tris asks.
“Fucking anything,” I whisper back.
“Okay, drunk and disorderly in front of my parents, coming right up,” he replies.
I grab his hand and pull him back to me as he goes to walk off. “On second thought, one drink. Don’t let me drink any more than that. Being drunk here is my worst nightmare.”
He and Emily chuckle, and he turns to her. “What do you want, Em?”
“Bubbles, please.”