“Duncan is my cousin and a friend of Alec's,” the woman answered.
“I knew Duncan and Alec were friends. We all went to high school together. But I didn't realize he was your cousin.”
“Gianna tries to keep it a secret. I would too if Duncan was my cousin,” Alec, the only man at the table, said.
“I can sympathize with you, Gianna. I prefer people don't know I'm related to Alec.” Leah nudged Tory's arm. “You never tell anyone either, do you?”
Tory shook her head and picked up her water glass. “Not unless I have absolutely no other choice.”
“Since clearly no one will miss me, I'm going to see how Duncan is holding up. I'll be back.”
“Tell him I said hi and good luck,” Gianna said.
After kissing Gianna on the cheek, he stood. “Will do.”
Other than Alec, if anyone in the room knew Duncan well, it would be his cousin. And since Gianna was sitting right across the table, Tory wasn't going to waste the opportunity to ask her some questions. There was only so much you could learn from the internet. So Tory waited until her cousin left before speaking.
“Gianna, if Duncan wasn’t your cousin, is he the type of person you'd want to go out with?”
* * *
Like the restof tonight's sacrifices, Duncan arrived forty-five minutes ago. And since the organizers of tonight's hell wanted to keep the bachelors out of sight until they took the stage, a foundation employee had immediately escorted them to an empty room adjacent to the ballroom. After a brief presentation regarding how the evening would proceed, Courtney, the fundraiser's director, thanked them for taking part and then left them alone.
Now six men were playing cards while discussing the football games tomorrow, and four others were having a heated conversation about politics. Duncan wanted nothing to do with either of the groups.
“You look like you're as happy as I am to be here.”
Duncan couldn't recall the man's name, but he'd seen his picture on the fundraiser's website.
“My name's Clay,” the dark-haired man said, extending his hand.
“Duncan. Yeah, I can think of a lot better ways to spend a Saturday night,” he replied as he shook Clay's hand. “Sounds like you didn't willingly sign up for this, either.”
Clay's scowl confirmed his guess. “Hell no. Because it's for charity, my agent thought it was a good way for me to get some positive publicity. My father agreed. Considering Gregg Miller's career, I'd be an idiot not to listen to him.”
The actor's career spanned more than thirty years, so if anyone could give good advice, it would be him. “He has been mildly successful,” Duncan said, smiling for the first time all night.
“That's one way to put it. So how did you end up here?”
“I lost a bet.” Duncan frowned as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for the hundredth time this week.
“That's rough. At least I get something out of participating. I heard this is Henry Blakey's second time doing this. You'd think once was bad enough.” Clay gestured toward the table where Henry sat dealing cards.
Duncan would never consider Henry a friend, but the man did a lot for various charities. “Henry supports a bunch of charities, so that's probably why he agreed to come back this year.”
“I'd think writing a check would be easier and far less painful.”
Before he could agree, a hotel employee approached with Clay's drink.
“Thank you,” Clay said, accepting the martini glass.
Rather than walk away, the employee asked, “Can I bring you something, sir?”
Why not?He needed to pass the time and wasn't driving anywhere tonight. “I'll have a whiskey sour.”
“Make that two, please,” Alec said as he walked up behind him.
“They'll let anyone in here tonight,” Duncan said in lieu of a proper greeting.