Brett extends his hand to the man.
William shakes it. He winks at me. “I bet you say that about all of your clients,” he says.
“Ah, only the ones I like,” I joke.
He laughs and gestures to the woman in red. “This is my wife, Tanya.”
We greet Tanya.
She smiles shyly which is a little surprising. She looks like the sort of woman who owns any room she steps into.
“You have a beautiful home, Tanya,” I say.
“Thank you.” She smiles. “I’m an interior designer and it’s all my own work.”
“Wow, really?” I say.
She nods her head and blushes a little.
“Honey?” William says to her. “The Jensons have just arrived.” He turns to me and Brett. “Please excuse us,” he says. “We’ll catch up later on ok?”
I smile and nod. Tanya smiles shyly again and the pair move away.
“She isn’t what I was expecting,” I say to Brett. “I’ve never met her before, but I always thought she would be like William. Kind of loud you know? I didn’t expect her to be so shy.”
“She’s probably not used to getting a word in, if William is the loud one.” Brett grins. “And at a party like this, she’s probably under strict instructions to look pretty and not steal his thunder.”
I can’t help but laugh. He might just be right about that. I look around the room as we talk and I spot three of the different prospects Mr. Connell has been courting. I point them out to Brett and give him some background information on each of them.
He listens attentively and nods his head.
As I’m almost finished telling him about the last potential client, a large man spots us and starts making his way towards us. He grins, a warm, friendly grin and I feel a pit of dread in my stomach. I have no idea who he is, but clearly he knows me. How could I have forgotten a client so completely that I don’t recognize his face at all?
It’s only when I glance at Brett and see him grinning too while stepping towards the man, do I realize with relief that it’s Brett he recognizes, not me.
He reaches us and shakes Brett’s hand warmly, then pulls him into a hug. “How are you?” he asks, holding Brett at arm’s length for a moment and looking him up and down. He goes on without giving Brett a chance to respond, “I didn’t know you were back in the city. And if I had have known, I still would never have guessed you’d be at a party like this.”
“That makes two of us.” Brett’s grin fades a little. “I only got back to the city yesterday. My father had a heart attack and I’m overseeing his company for a couple of weeks until he’s back on his feet.”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’ve put my foot right in it haven’t I,” the man says, suddenly looking awkward.
“No, honestly, it’s fine,” Brett insists. “My father is all right. He just has to rest for a couple of weeks.”
The man nods. He half turns away for a moment, scanning the room. His eyes land on a woman wearing a yellow knee length dress. “Judy,” he shouts. She looks over and he beckons to her. “Come on over here. Brett’s here and he’s all grown up.”
I smile to myself as the woman comes over.
She grabs Brett by his upper arms and kisses first one cheek and then the other. She laughs and rubs away the lipstick marks she’s left. “Well, if it isn’t little Brett Connell. Mind you, you’re not so little now. I think you were around eleven or twelve the last time I saw you,” she exclaims.
“How are you Mrs. Simmons?” Brett asks.
It’s strange hearing him address the woman as Mrs. Simmons rather than using her first name, but from the short exchange they’ve had, I’m guessing the couple are old friends of the Connells and Brett probably grew up addressing the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Simmons because of his father’s insistence on everything being formal and proper.
“Oh, I’m good thank you,” Mrs. Simmons says. “And how about you? What are you doing with yourself these days?”
“Well, I’m currently sitting in for my father for a few weeks,” Brett says, carefully skipping over the part about the heart attack, not wanting to make the same mistake as he made with Mr. Simmons and making everything awkward. “But I have my own company now. I’ve actually been in France for the last year overseeing the opening of a new branch out there.”
He’s been in France. That explains why I haven’t seen him in a year. So from the argument I overheard with him and his father, it seems like Mr. Connell tried to do something to stop Brett from expanding his business overseas.
“Oh, how exciting!” Mrs. Simmons gushes. “I love France.”
“Me too,” Mr. Simmons puts in. “There’s a hell of a market for asset management over there right now. And of course, it doesn’t hurt that it’s such a romantic place right? Not for a young guy like you.”
I get the impression he added that last bit for his wife’s benefit.
Brett looks kind of awkward and he just smiles.
“So?” Mr. Simmons presses him. “Have you met any nice girls out there? Anyone special?”
Brett shakes his head.
I sigh with relief. No wife. No significant other. Not that it should matter to me. But it does. No matter how much I try to tell myself nothing can happen between Brett and I, and that he has shown no signs whatsoever that he’s even interested in me, hearing that he’s not taken still makes me feel good.
My sigh draws their attention to me.
I feel myself blush when all of
