I take the bet and we listen in. Lief hasn’t ever met a conversation he wants to start, but Valerie shivers. “Not enough whiskey at this event to melt the snow outside.”
“Nearly done. We’re in March now.” Lief says. “Although, there have been recorded years where it’s lasted into April.”
“May further north,” Valerie says. “Did you know seasonal depression is most pronounced in winter in part due to the snow and overcast weather?”
I pay up and shake my head. The ice in my drink has more interesting conversations when they bump into each other. I nudge Gunner. “Make sure that goes towards fun and not … diapers.”
“We’ll see.” He chuckles. “Maybe I can convince Sophie to go out on a date.”
“You’ll need it,” I say.
There’s a dance floor and I’m about to try my luck asking Valerie to dance, but my brother beats me to it. She takes her time accepting, watching him carefully, then finally slides her delicate hand into his.
They follow the unspoken code of slow, appropriate dancing and I roll my eyes. Why my father sent us here, I don’t know. Heading to bars, enjoying clubs, any of that would have been better. This is too stuffy and conservative. The only fun that we could have would be destroying the ho-hum with some actual life.
“Youdolook constipated. Something I don’t know,” Gunner says. “I was relying on you to make me feel alive, or at least give me a good story.”
“Oh, work is fun,” I assure him. “Lots of action, a whole lot of things I can’t talk about because of the NDA, and you should have seen the vixen I brought home two weeks ago. She didn’t leave for two days.”
“Your house or the bed.” Gunner smirks.
I clink my glass with his. “House. We made sure to break in just about every room.”
“Can you confirm, Lief?” Gunner asks, trying to rope him into the conversation.
“The maids are effective, but I wouldn’t recommend a blacklight test.” He answers.
I chuckle. Lief’s lips curve up at the corner, then his eyes flick to the dance floor. I’m not in the habit of telling my friends what to do, but he seriously needs to make a move on Valerie.
I offered her all of us, to give her exactly what Sophie has. She could have all three of us focused utterly and completely on her pleasure and we have plenty of ways to give her that. Pleasure, pain, and everything in between that just makes fucking better.
But Lief is Lief. Even if I did tell him to ask her to dance, he’d shrug, or insist that it’s rude to make the first move. That’s what you get from a guy who grew up in the Netherlands, Norway, and Denmark. Luckily, he met us in college so he’s not completely hopeless.
Valerie and Chase come back and she continues standing, looking at Lief. She asks, “Dance with me.”
Not even a question. He stands and follows her to the dance floor. I smirk into my drink. I bet she’ll ask Gunner to dance too. She thinks she’s teaching me some kind of lesson. Please, I can play the long game. I’ve perfected patience over the years, especially if it means I’ll get what I want.
“You’re barking up this tree all wrong.” Gunner sighs.
I flick my eyes to him. “Calling me a dog?”
“If it barks like a dog, fucks like a dog …”
I roll my eyes. “You’re full of shit.”
“Per Sophie, Valerie likes to have an actual conversation, not be hit on. Maybe when she’s tipsy she likes the direct come-ons, but I bet if you take it down about seven notches, she’d give you more than sass.”
“Who says I don’t like her sass?”
“It might get you laid.” Chase amends. “But what do I know? Not like I … oh wait.”
“Jesus Christ. When is this charity going to be done?”
They serve dinner in answer and I check my phone quickly. Uncle Dino reminds me to avoid drawing attention but considering all the ass-kissing I see these old rich dudes doing to each other, it won’t be hard.
Chase goes to put his name on some things and Gunner does the same, leaving my eyes to wander. There are plenty of hot girls here, but it’s hard to tell who’s family and who’s a smart ex-sugar baby/ new wife. One girl with copper skin makes eyes at me while wrapping her lips around the straw, but I see that huge ring on her finger.
I may be a dog, but this dog doesn’t actively jump into a beating. Married women are off-limits. Convincing a girl to leave a relationship isn’t the kind of hunt I’m interested in. Valerie sits across the table and looks around the crowd, eyes landing on me.