My smile is small. Devilish. “I’m with Spencer now.”
“Donato? God, he’s a gorgeous piece. Has a mysterious edge of danger to him that intrigues me.” Monty sighs and shakes his head. “I bet he fucks like a beast.”
“Monty,” I admonish, though there’s not much emotion in my voice. “So dirty.”
“You like it.” He glances around the crowded room before his gaze returns to me. “Where’s Summer?”
“She should be here soon.” Nerves bubble up, making it hard to speak. I’m both excited and worried to see her. I know she’ll be fine, and so will I, but the guilt I still carry over the way I treated her so long ago is ever present, and taxing.
I’m the one who put this luncheon together in the first place. I know her and Monty are extremely close, and he’s always been a good friend to me as well. Considering I’ve never had a large number of friends, I’ve always cherished him.
It seemed only right, to have lunch with the two of them. He could be a good mediator between Summer and me, if we needed one.
I send him a look. “I hear you and Cliff are getting cozy.”
Monty turns immediately coy. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Not according to Clifford.” I’ve been in constant contact with my friend since I returned to the city. He’s sad I moved out of his building, but he’s happy that I’m with Spencer.
He’s your soulmate, he tells me.
I suppose he’s right. It’s been Spence and me since I was thirteen.
Monty drops the pretense. “Fine. He’s a doll. So cute. Very attentive. Great kisser. Interesting conversationalist.”
“Wow. Looks like he checks all of your boxes.”
“I know. Praise be, a miracle has occurred.” Monty’s smile is wry. “I wouldn’t call myself in love though.”
“It hasn’t been very long.”
“A few months.”
I blink at him. “Really? Already?”
Monty nods, reaching out to grab his drink, and takes a sip. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“Or when you’re supposed to be in mourning,” I add.
“Please. If jumping on Spencer Donato every chance you get is called mourning, then sign me up.” Monty waves a dismissive hand. “Tell me how you two got back together.”
“We ran into each other at Whit’s wedding, and it sort of sprouted from there,” I say truthfully.
“I hear he’s got you holed up in that gorgeous apartment his father purchased with blood money and he won’t let you out of his sight.” Monty glances around the restaurant once again, a little more exaggerated this time. “Is he here? Spying on us? Making sure I don’t try anything on you?”
I roll my eyes. “Stop. You’re being silly. He lets me out of his sight.”
Barely.
“If he keeps you naked in his bed, I’m sure you’re not complaining.”
“I’m not.” I point at the drink he’s still clutching. It’s pink and frothy and looks delicious. “I want one of those, please.”
“Whatever the princess requests, she gets. Oh waiter!” Monty raises his arm, snapping his fingers, and I make a sheesh face because oh my God, so rude.
The server comes running right over. He’s young and gorgeous and staring at Monty with stars in his eyes. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Another one of these for me and one for the lady.” He inclines his head toward me. “Should we order one for Summer?”