Or maybe he just has the hots for Declan.
“So, is he your ex?” Will asks as he whips a champagne flute from a passing waiter.
“He’s my colleague,” Claire says, distracted.
“But you’ve hooked up.”
“No. I mean we kissed once. But nothing more.”
Will stares at her in disbelief. “You’re in love with the guy and you haven’t slept with him.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Claire says.
“Good. What if he’s bad in bed?”
“What?”
I try to step on his foot in my stiletto heel, but he dodges me easily.
“You need to be prepared,” he says. “You’re accumulating months of buildup in your mind. All that tension, all that hope. You like him, you love him, maybe he’s a good kisser. You finally get together and…” He trails off with a shrug. “He’s like a wet fish.”
“He won’t be bad in bed,” I say firmly but Claire’s panicking now, so I stare at Declan until he gets the hint. His hand moves from her back to slip around her waist, his expression serene.
“Let’s get a drink,” he says. “Alone.” And together they stride off into the party, leaving me with Will.
He meets my pointed look with one of his own. “You know I’m right.”
It’s going to be a long night.
An hour later I’m standing by myself on the terrace, watching Claire through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Thirty minutes ago Declan successfully maneuvered them into Mark’s circle, where they’ve remained. Declan is talking. He’s been doing most of the talking since they joined. And whatever he’s saying must be hilarious because the group has been laughing nonstop since then.
His hands are all over her. Touching her waist, her arm, her hair. He’s looking at her, he’s smiling at her, he’s definitely at a three point five if not a four by this stage. Which, to be totally honest, I don’t think the situation calls for.
“This is fun,” Will deadpans, appearing before me with fresh glasses of champagne. “Why haven’t we done this before?”
I push him to the side so he’s not obstructing my view. “If you knew you wouldn’t like it, why did you come?”
“I thought at the very least you’d talk to me.”
“I am talking to you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re standing there sulking. And stop fidgeting,” he adds, handing me a glass.
“It’s these shoes,” I grumble, shifting my weight. “They’re killing me.”
“You’d make the worst prom date, you know that?”
“I would never have gone to prom with you. I was extremely popular in high school.”
“No, you weren’t. Popular girls don’t run away to New York. They stay in their hometowns and have lots of babies.”
“What’s it like inside your head?” I wonder out loud. “With everyone in their neat little boxes, all equally hated by you.”
“It’s organized. And uncomplicated. And I much prefer it to whatever melodrama is happening inside of yours.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? You still like the charming Irish man.”
I don’t answer and turn instead to face the panoramic views of Central Park’s treetops and the famous skyline beyond. It’s a view that should have awed me, no matter how many years I’ve lived in this city, but instead all I want to do is turn back around and continue my Declan watch.
“I’m sorry I made you cancel on your dentist,” I say after a minute.
“That’s okay,” he says with a sigh. “The thought of sleeping with someone who knows that much about my teeth freaks me out a little.”
I laugh and take a sip of my champagne. “I appreciate it nevertheless.”
“Yeah well, Amal said she liked my tie.”
“It’s a lovely tie.”
“Matthias came to see me the other day.”
I blink at the change of subject. “About what?”
“You. He wanted to know ‘how you are doing.’ That last bit is a direct quote.”
I frown, confused. Matthias has barely spoken to me since I turned him down for our drink redo. He’s been polite in the office but the way he’s avoided me more or less made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with me. Especially since I’ve taken on Declan’s project.
“What did you say?”
“That you were just fine,” he says seriously. “No thanks to him.”
“You didn’t.”
“Not the second bit.”
“I don’t know why you don’t like him,” I say, exasperated. “He’s a good guy.”
“If you believe that, you’re more naïve than I thought,” Will says, but he turns before I can ask him what he means. “Lover boy’s coming.”
I glance over my shoulder, my thoughts instantly changing direction when I see Declan heading our way. Behind him, Claire remains at Mark’s side.
Declan grabs a red wine from a nearby waiter. “I could get used to the escort business,” he jokes as he joins us. “What’s wrong with you,” he adds, glancing at me. “You’ve been standing in the same spot all night.”
“She can’t walk in her shoes,” Will says.
“I’m fine.” I sip my champagne as my eyes drift back to Declan. He knew I was here. He was watching me just like I was watching him.
Will finishes his glass and sets it down. “I’m going to look for Amal again,” he announces and wanders off before either of us can say anything.
Declan’s free hand slides into his pocket, his eyes drifting purposefully down my body.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask sharply.
His grin is instant, glorious. I feel it on every inch of me.
“How’s my office coming along?” he asks.
“Brilliantly. You could see for yourself if you joined any of our progress calls.”
“It’s hard to get away from the bars,” he says. “Mika fills me in.”
“And what does she say?”
“That you won’t stop asking after me.”
“Funny.”
“You know, in a couple of weeks it will all be done,” he says, settling against the balcony. “No more professional relationship.”
“Do I have to remind you you’re on a date with my roommate?”
He gives me a look before turning pointedly to where Claire and Mark stand, laughing together.
“She’s dumped me,” he says sadly. “And you’re making it very hard to concentrate on her.”
“I’m standing outside.”
“In that outfit.” His eyes skim over me again. “Are you wearing it on purpose?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You wore that dress the night we went to the pub. The night before the wedding.”
“No, I…” But I glance down, remembering. “A lucky guess.”
“Excuse me?”
“Guys don’t notice dresses let alone remember them.”
“They remember ones like that.”
Oh God. I sigh inwardly, steeling myself. “Declan—” I begin.
“Oh no,” he says, interrupting me. “I know what ‘Declan’ means. You’re trying to get rid of me. And I’m telling you right now that I don’t accept.”
“You don’t accept?”
“Ironic isn’t it,” Declan continues. “I’m here to make Mark jealous but in return, I’m also making you jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“You want to go somewhere after this?”
“No.”
“Why not? New York City. Pretty girl. Big dreams. Or we could find a dark corner. A coat closet perhaps. Make out.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to Will,” I say, sarcastic.
“We can invite him too if you like.”
“I’m here till Claire leaves. And besides…” I trail off as he steps closer, his face mere inches from mine. The city lights reflect in his eyes as he looks at
me, along with the moon and the stars, and oh God. I take another sip of champagne as my mouth runs dry.
“Besides what?”
I smile weakly. “I really can’t walk in these shoes.”
“I’d carry you but—”
“Your back, yeah, I know.”
“I can think of other things we can do.” His voice has gone so quiet I have to lean in to hear him. “Where’s your necklace?”
“What?” I frown, confused at the sudden change in direction.
“The night at the hotel you were wearing that dress and you had a gold necklace with a little…” He makes a circular motion at the base of his throat. “Round thing.”
“It was a drop pendant.”
“I liked it.”
I have a sudden flashback, a forgotten memory of him catching it gently in his teeth as he moved over my body. A tingle runs down my spine.
“Are you cold?” he asks, noticing the shiver.
“A little.”
“A little,” he repeats softly and, oh, I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him badly but before I can Will appears before us, looking unusually worried.
“If you two can stop dry humping each other with your eyes,” he says. “Your friend has a problem.”
23
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Claire bats at the red wine stain as if trying to strike it from her dress.
“It’s fine,” I lie. “No one will notice.”
“It looks like I got my period,” she hisses.
“No. It looks like you spilled some wine. This is not the end of the world.” I pluck some tissues from a carefully arranged box and wet them under the faucet.
“You’re just going to spread it.”
I dab ineffectively at the mark. “You’re making me nervous.”
“You’re making me nervous.” She rests the back of her head against the door as I try to get it out. It was a bad spill, going all down the front of the dress. “I’ve definitely stained their floors.”
“As if no one ever spilled a drink before. And I doubt Mrs. Griffith will be on her hands and knees cleaning it herself.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she moans. “And it was going so well.”
“Is going well. Is.”
“He was looking at me,” she continues as if I never said anything. “He was looking at me like he saw me.”
“It’s going to be fine. It’s coming right out.”
“He touched my arm. For a full three seconds and he introduced me to his friends. Not as his colleague but as Claire. This is Claire, he said. And they looked at me like they knew me. Like he’d talked about me.”
I throw the tissue in the trash and reach for another.
“It’s because he’s funny,” she continues. “That’s why. He made a joke and I started to laugh and I missed my mouth and I spilled the wine and it is now the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.”
“It could be worse. You could have spit it all over him.”
“Too soon, Sarah. Hey!”
She’s thrust into me as the door opens behind her.
“Hello?” I say as Declan slips inside. “Ladies room much?”
“You two are taking too long.” he says. His eyes flit over Claire, assessing the damage as she sits with a huff on the toilet lid. “How do you want to play this?”
Claire looks up at him, confused. “What?”
“You’ve got to think of the plan here,” he continues, his tone brisk and professional. “We have an issue. How are we dealing with? How will we spin it?”
“This isn’t a political campaign,” I say, exasperated.
But Claire is frowning at Declan, her brow creased in concentration.
“Nothing’s changed,” Declan says patiently. “Mark still thinks I’m your date. Now am I the caring date who whisks you off to get the stain from your dress or am I the asshole who doesn’t want to leave the party?”
“Um…”
“You’ve got two seconds to decide.”
“The asshole,” she blurts. “Play the asshole.”
He grins. “I was born for the role. You ready?”
“No.”
“Well, we can stay in the bathroom until he goes or we can go out and get you laid. What’s it going to be?”
She doesn’t answer at first and I’m about to snap at him again for his crassness when she grabs onto his hand and pulls herself up.
“Atta girl,” he says gamely and steers her out of the restroom. I follow them, about to drag her back inside when I see Mark at the end of the hallway, waiting for her. I watch, surprised as he hurries over to them, concerned. Declan plays his part well, his face tight with impatience, his shoulders stiff as he tries to take Claire back to the party. There’s a moment’s conversation that I’m too far away to hear before Declan abandons them, striding into the main room.
Mark offers Claire his arm, his head bent attentively to her as he guides her toward the elevator. I follow at a distance, still clutching the tissues, not believing what I’m seeing as he collects her purse from the coat attendant and leads her to the elevator and… takes her home?
I’ve already found someone.
I’d scoffed when Claire had said that to me before. If I’m being honest with myself, a part of me secretly pitied her for the way she carried a torch for him all this time. But it looks like she was right. She was right all this time and she didn’t really need Declan to make him jealous, she didn’t need me to hold her hand. She just needed to trust her instincts. And her instinct said yes.
Declan sidles up to me soon as the doors close. “Impressed?”
“Yes,” I admit, clearing my throat. “Very. She’s been making googly eyes at him for three years.”
“I did drama in school.”
“Thank you,” I say. “For doing this. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course, I did. I told you, didn’t I? I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. And Mark seems nice.”
I grimace. “Don’t say that. I’m worried he’s going to break her heart.”
“Nah,” he says quietly. “He likes her. And Claire knows exactly what she’s doing even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”
“And how do you know that?”
“She picked me, didn’t she?”
“You’re very sure of your abilities to make other men jealous.”
“Have you seen this suit?” He gestures down at himself and I look away because, yes, I have seen that suit. I’ve been staring at him in that suit all night.
He nudges my arm. “Hey, smile. I got you a present.” I watch in confusion as he talks to the coat attendant, who proceeds to bring out a pair of worn sneakers like we’re in a bowling alley.
“Who needs diamonds?” Declan says, presenting them to me.
“Where did you get those?”
“I didn’t steal them if that’s what you’re thinking. Claire brought them in that giant purse of hers. She said I could borrow them.”
I almost snatch them from him. Claire’s half a size bigger than me which is more than doable if I do the laces tight. I sit on one of the cushioned stools dotting the hallway and almost groan when I slip them on.
Declan scoops up the discarded devil heels. “What do you want to do with these?”
“Besides throw them over the balcony?” I hold out my hand to take them, but Declan doesn’t move.
“I can carry them.”
“I’m sure you can but you don’t need to. I’m going home.”
“You can’t go home.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because Claire’s going home.”
“So? I’ll…” But he’s right. Claire is going home. Home with Mark. Crap.
“Whoops,” he says cheerfully. “Didn’t think about that, did you?”
“Did you guys say you were going?” Will appears in the doorway, looking disappointed.
“Yes,” Declan says.
“But separately,” I add.
&
nbsp; Will frowns. “Does this mean I have to leave?”
“You can do what you like,” I say, exasperated.
“Well, I’m staying,” he says. “I’m making rich friends. Enjoy your tension or whatever is going on here.” He pauses before he goes, touching my arm lightly. “Make good choices.”
He turns without another word and disappears back into the party.
“He confuses me,” Declan says after a moment.
“Try being friends with him.”
“So what do you want to do?” He smiles at my irritated look. “Some find my insistence endearing.”
“Don’t you have to be at the bar or something?”
“I took the night off.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m pleased. Even I can admit that. I spent all evening watching him with someone else. And even though it was Claire and even though I know it wasn’t real, it still hurt like hell and now here he is, telling me in no uncertain terms, that the only thing he wants to do is spend the rest of the night with me.
“I could eat,” I admit. The scraps of finger food on offer left little to balance the amount of champagne I’ve consumed.
“Then we shall eat,” Declan says solemnly and leads me to the elevator.
It’s busy outside. It’s still early for a Saturday night and the air is warm and still.
We walk along the sidewalk, close enough that our arms brush every now and then. Anyone passing us would think we’re a couple. The mere thought of it gives me a thrill.
“Which way?” I ask as we reach a junction.
“You’re asking me?” Declan looks surprised. “I was following you. You said we were going to get something to eat.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know this part of the city.”
“And you think I do?” He laughs.
“Well, where do you want to eat?”
He shrugs. “I’m not really hungry.”
I force down a sigh. “Then what do you feel like doing?”
One Night Only: An absolutely hilarious and uplifting romantic comedy Page 21