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Authors: Kaye Dacus
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you.”
He inclined his head. “My pleasure.”
Before she could say anything else to him, he turned to assist an older woman down. Flannery lifted the long skirt of the evening gown and, slipping her hand through the crook of Jack’s elbow, headed into the hotel.
Yep, she might be envious of her friends’ happiness and coupledom, and she might even be lonely and afraid of being alone for the rest of her life. But she was nowhere near desperate enough to go out with someone like Jamie O’Connor. No matter how polite he’d decided to be tonight or how highly Jack thought of him.
Chapter 5
A side from the towering white cake and the beautiful woman in the wedding dress, the ballroom reminded Jamie forcefully of a formal dinner at the end of a sales conference. Seats had apparently been very carefully assigned; even though the salad course was just being cleared away, from his position at a table near the front of the cavernous room, he’d already counted eighteen instances of business cards being exchanged.
Why hadn’t he thought to print up some cards with his personal contact information to bring with him tonight? Oh yeah—because he’d been under the impression he’d be attending a wedding , not a business-networking event.
Instead of joining in the get-to-know-you chatter around his table, Jamie just listened. Only one of the other three ushers sat at the table with him, and out of the three, Dennis Forrester was the one Jamie would have picked last if forced to choose. But as Dylan and Jack sat at the head table with their dates—the two maids of honor—Jamie had to make do.
Usually he’d be in his element in a room full of five hundred people. Tonight, though, the noise of the voices, the silver against china, and even the soft sound of the band on the stage at the other side of the room clawed all the way up his last nerve and jumped all over it.
He stole another glance at the front of the room. He hadn’t imagined it during the wedding—Flannery McNeill looked decidedly unhappy. Oh, she tried to hide it, laughing and talking with Jack Colby on her right and Caylor on her left, but an almost-visible aura of melancholy surrounded her.
Not his problem. He returned his attention to the dinner plate in front of him. Filet mignon and salmon. Could this get any more cliché? The small, bacon-wrapped steak did at least come with a blue-cheese butter sauce on top of it, so that added something a little different.
“Jamie, you said you work in sports marketing?” Dennis Forrester, now apparently finished finding out everything about their table companions, turned his focus on Jamie.
Jamie cut a small bite of the steak. Right between rare and medium rare—just the way he liked his beef. “Yes, for the Gregg Agency.” As far as Jamie had seen, the news of the merger with the Memphis company hadn’t hit the business journals yet.
“Ah.” A flash of something—speculation? knowing?—flashed through Dennis’s brown eyes. “I’ve worked with Armando Gregg on a few boards and committees of different charities around town. Good man.”
If you insist . Jamie nodded.
“How long have you been there?”
“Thirteen years.” Actually, when he’d looked at the calendar, his final day would be just two weeks shy of the anniversary of his start date.
“So I guess you know Cole Samuels, then.” Dennis cut into his sweet potato puree–stuffed, roasted Portobello mushroom. For a fleeting second, Jamie wished he’d ordered a vegetarian plate, too. He didn’t like a lot of veggies, but he could eat yams and mushrooms with every meal.
“I haven’t had the chance to meet him, but I’ve been talking with his agent about a few opportunities.” The steak was pretty good, too. Jamie glanced over to the table on the other side of the long head table where Cole Samuels sat. After catching four touchdown passes to help win the Super Bowl—and then being named league MVP for the year—Cole Samuels was
He inclined his head. “My pleasure.”
Before she could say anything else to him, he turned to assist an older woman down. Flannery lifted the long skirt of the evening gown and, slipping her hand through the crook of Jack’s elbow, headed into the hotel.
Yep, she might be envious of her friends’ happiness and coupledom, and she might even be lonely and afraid of being alone for the rest of her life. But she was nowhere near desperate enough to go out with someone like Jamie O’Connor. No matter how polite he’d decided to be tonight or how highly Jack thought of him.
Chapter 5
A side from the towering white cake and the beautiful woman in the wedding dress, the ballroom reminded Jamie forcefully of a formal dinner at the end of a sales conference. Seats had apparently been very carefully assigned; even though the salad course was just being cleared away, from his position at a table near the front of the cavernous room, he’d already counted eighteen instances of business cards being exchanged.
Why hadn’t he thought to print up some cards with his personal contact information to bring with him tonight? Oh yeah—because he’d been under the impression he’d be attending a wedding , not a business-networking event.
Instead of joining in the get-to-know-you chatter around his table, Jamie just listened. Only one of the other three ushers sat at the table with him, and out of the three, Dennis Forrester was the one Jamie would have picked last if forced to choose. But as Dylan and Jack sat at the head table with their dates—the two maids of honor—Jamie had to make do.
Usually he’d be in his element in a room full of five hundred people. Tonight, though, the noise of the voices, the silver against china, and even the soft sound of the band on the stage at the other side of the room clawed all the way up his last nerve and jumped all over it.
He stole another glance at the front of the room. He hadn’t imagined it during the wedding—Flannery McNeill looked decidedly unhappy. Oh, she tried to hide it, laughing and talking with Jack Colby on her right and Caylor on her left, but an almost-visible aura of melancholy surrounded her.
Not his problem. He returned his attention to the dinner plate in front of him. Filet mignon and salmon. Could this get any more cliché? The small, bacon-wrapped steak did at least come with a blue-cheese butter sauce on top of it, so that added something a little different.
“Jamie, you said you work in sports marketing?” Dennis Forrester, now apparently finished finding out everything about their table companions, turned his focus on Jamie.
Jamie cut a small bite of the steak. Right between rare and medium rare—just the way he liked his beef. “Yes, for the Gregg Agency.” As far as Jamie had seen, the news of the merger with the Memphis company hadn’t hit the business journals yet.
“Ah.” A flash of something—speculation? knowing?—flashed through Dennis’s brown eyes. “I’ve worked with Armando Gregg on a few boards and committees of different charities around town. Good man.”
If you insist . Jamie nodded.
“How long have you been there?”
“Thirteen years.” Actually, when he’d looked at the calendar, his final day would be just two weeks shy of the anniversary of his start date.
“So I guess you know Cole Samuels, then.” Dennis cut into his sweet potato puree–stuffed, roasted Portobello mushroom. For a fleeting second, Jamie wished he’d ordered a vegetarian plate, too. He didn’t like a lot of veggies, but he could eat yams and mushrooms with every meal.
“I haven’t had the chance to meet him, but I’ve been talking with his agent about a few opportunities.” The steak was pretty good, too. Jamie glanced over to the table on the other side of the long head table where Cole Samuels sat. After catching four touchdown passes to help win the Super Bowl—and then being named league MVP for the year—Cole Samuels was
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