“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Oliver Drake! How dare you come to the party for one of my best friends, just so you can harass me! Is nothing sacred to you? Tonight is about Emma and Jonah, not about your ridiculous vendetta against me.”
Oliver looked around at the dozen or so people who turned and took notice of her loud, sharp words. Apparently their banter was about to escalate to fighting tonight. He had no plans to cause a scene here, despite what she seemed to think. Reaching out, he snatched up her wrist and tugged her behind him. There were French doors not far from where they were standing, so he made a beeline through them and out onto the large balcony that overlooked the east grounds of the Dempsey estate.
“You let go of me!” Lucy squealed as he hauled her outside, the end of her tirade cut off from the guests inside by the slamming of the door. Thankfully, the weather was a touch too chilly for anyone to be out there to overhear the rest of their argument.
“Is nothing sacred to you?” He turned her question on her. “Stop causing a scene in front of my friends and colleagues.”
“Me?” Lucy yanked her wrist from his clutch. “You started this. And they’re my friends and colleagues, not yours.”
Oliver noticed the palm of his hand tingled for a moment at the separation of his skin from hers. He ached to reach out and touch her again, but that was the last thing he needed to do. Especially right now when she was yelling at him. “Yes, you. And you don’t get to lay claim on everyone inside just like you laid claim to my aunt’s fortune. They’re my friends, too.”
“I didn’t lay claim to your aunt’s fortune. I would never presume to do that, even if I had the slightest reason to think I should get it. Despite what you seem to think, it was a gift, Oliver. It’s a kind thing some people do, not that you would know what that’s like.”
“I am kind,” he insisted. The collar of his shirt was suddenly feeling too tight. Oliver didn’t understand why she was able to get under his skin so easily. He’d felt his blood pressure start to rise the moment he’d seen her in that little dress. And then, after he touched her… “You don’t know anything about me.”
“And you don’t know anything about me!”
“I know that yelling is very unbecoming of a lady.”
“And so is manhandling someone.”
“You’re correct,” Oliver conceded and crossed his arms over his chest to bury his tingling hand. “I’m not a lady.”
Lucy’s pink lips scrunched together in irritation, although there was the slightest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Could she actually have a sense of humor? “You’re not a gentleman either. You’re a pain in my a—”
“Hey, now!” Oliver interrupted. Ixnay that thought on the sense of humor. “I didn’t come here to start a fight with you, Lucy.”
She took a deep breath and looked him over in his favorite charcoal suit. He’d paired a pink tie with it tonight in a nod to Jonah’s baby, but he doubted Lucy would be impressed by the gesture. At the moment, he wanted to tug it off and give himself some room to breathe, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him react to her, good or bad.
“So why are you here?” she asked.
“I’m here because I was invited. Jonah and I are friends from back in prep school. Did Harper not tell you that?”
“No, she didn’t.” Lucy looked through the window with a frown lining her face, then down at her dress. It was short, ending a few inches above her knee with a band of iridescent white beads that caught the light as she moved. “Although a lot of other things make sense now.”
Oliver couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of him in the moment. “You actually thought I’d driven two hours out of my way just to come here and stalk you tonight?”
Lucy pouted her bottom lip at his laughter and turned toward the stone railing of the balcony. “Well…it’s not like we’ve ever run into each other before this. You have to admit it seems suspicious that you keep showing up where I am.”
He stifled the last of his snickering and stood beside her at the railing, their bodies almost touching. He could feel the heat of her bare skin less than an inch away. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted.
Oliver turned to look down at her. She was wearing white and silver heels tonight, but even then, she was quite a bit shorter than he was. Outside, the flicker of the decorative candles stationed across the patio made the golden glow dance around her face, a game of shadow and light that flattered her features even more.