Chase stiffens.
I force a smile. “I’m on vacation.”
“Monday, then.” Brett’s grin widens as he glances at his date. “I think you’ll agree, we have plenty to discuss.”
I still at the clear threat in his words.
Brett chuckles and slides his arm around Phoebe’s waist. “I’m sorry, I’ve completely forgotten my manners. Have you met my date? This is Miss Phoebe Evangeline West.” He looks back at me, glee in his eyes. “Wasn’t it lucky that she was free tonight?”
“Luck is one word for it,” I murmur.
Chase’s grip tightens on mine — a warning. “A date you didn’t have to pay to spend the night with you? Good for you, Brett.”
His tone is so light, no one would ever suspect the hatred running deep beneath his teasing words.
Brett chuckles, like it’s all in good fun, and the woman at his side — who I’ve been steadfastly ignoring right up until this moment — lets out a peal of innocent laughter. The sound is so pure, so joyous, I can’t help my eyes from sliding to hers.
She looks like me, five years ago.
The realization slams into me, harder than a punch to the gut. We’re almost the same height, both petite with compact, curvy frames — hers, at the moment, is zipped into a stunning ivory gown that floats down to mid-calf, and strappy, skyscraper-high heels I’d never be able to walk in. Our hair is the same shade, though hers is straight as a pin and cut into a sleek, angular bob — shorter in the back, with longer ends that just brush her shoulders in the front. She’s got awesome bangs across her forehead — the fringed, too-long-on-purpose kind that hang into her eyes — and she radiates confidence, just standing there looking at me.
When her eyes lift to mine — almond-shaped, hazel, sparkling with life — I’m so dazzled by the beauty of them, I don’t even feel relief that they aren’t blue, marking at least one difference between our looks.
“Brett don’t be so stuffy.” She sticks her hand out with a roll of her eyes and a grin on her lips. “It’s just Phoebe.”
For a minute, I struggle for composure, staring at a girl who clearly has no idea who I am, wondering how on earth I should possibly act around her. Thankfully, Chase’s hand tightens on mine in a quick squeeze, and I snap out of my stupor.
“Gemma,” I murmur, reaching out with tentative fingers to take her hand. “Gemma Summers.”
“Nice to meet you, Gemma Summers.”
I attempt to smile back at her. “You too.”
“Killer dress.”
“Oh, thanks.” I glance down at myself, still in disbelief that such a gorgeous design is onmybody. “I borrowed it from a friend.”
“Well, it’s fabulous. I’ve been staring at it all night — and not just because it’s the only spot of color amidst all this navy and black.” She makes a gagging face. “My great aunt Tessie is more daring with her fashion choices than some of these women, and she’s ninety-six. Then again, she’s also been known to strip down to her birthday suit and run through the halls at the nursing home, so she’s not always the best judge of proper attire.”
I laugh, despite myself. “Well, if the people here had as much life as your aunt, it would probably be a much better party.”
“Undoubtedly.”
I grimace. “Though I could do without seeing some of these people in the nude.”
She laughs with such infectious, uninhibited joy, I can’t help but smile at the sound of it.
“Phoebe, why don’t you and Gemma get a drink?” Brett’s voice cuts through the moment like a knife strike. “My cousin and I have some things to catch up on.”
My eyes move to Chase, a question in their depths, and he gives a terse nod.
“But—” I start to protest.
“Just for a minute, sunshine.” Chase squeezes my hand tight before dropping it and turning back to Brett, anger radiating from his every pore. I open my mouth, fully prepared to insist on staying by his side, but the feeling of an arm looping through mine distracts me.
“Another glass of wine sounds perfect,” Phoebe says, leading me toward the bar with such familiarity, you’d think she’d known me years, not minutes. “They probably have to discuss something terribly boring, like a merger. An acquisition. Profit margins.” She makes another gagging sound. “It’s enough to drive a girl to drink.”
“Hence the open bar.”