Something flicked in her gaze as she moved to stand next to him.
“You look good.” Her gaze glided over him from head to toe. A small smile appeared on her lips.
“You’re working this event?” He didn’t return the compliment. He was sure she was waiting for one, but she wasn’t going to get it from him.
“You know I am always a big supporter of the city’srevitalization projects.” She tilted her head to the side while her smile widened. “And I heard you would be here.”
Of course she’d heard.
He took a champagne flute from a circulator, not because he wanted it, but because it gave him an excuse not to respond to her.
“We need to talk, Vic.” She pressed closer to him.
“No, we don’t.” He threw her a glare that would have lesser men running from him. He wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit. No tonight. Hell, not ever.
“Maybe I was being rash that night,” she murmured.
She tried an innocent expression, but Vic saw right through it.
“We both said some things that we regret,” she added. “I shouldn’t have brought up marriage and kids the way I did. I know it overwhelmed you?—”
“Syd.”
This time, she paused at his chilled tone. Her eyes widened as she took him in.
“Ending it was the right call,” he said. “For both of us.”
She immediately glanced around as if to check if any of the patrons were paying attention to their conversation. She faced him, her eyes hardened a fraction.
“I disagree.” This was the real Sydney, the one who didn’t like losing or being seen as anything other than perfect.
An attendee near them gasped. They were taking in one of the renderings of the Artisan Avenue.
“It is stunning. The expansion along the lakefront is a genius idea!” the woman said. She continued to note different things to the gentleman standing with her.
Sydney turned to them and leaned close.
“Honestly,” she said to the man with the woman. “Modernizing a historic structure this aggressively feels, I don’t know…wrong? It cheapens the legacy of the history of the building. Some designers don’t understand that.”
Vic narrowed his gaze on Sydney. What the hell was she doing?
“She’s an architectural designer. I don’t think that is the same as an architect,” Sydney added with a devious smile. “Sometimes it shows.”
Vic couldn’t respond. He couldn’t because his eyes were on her.
Tachina.
Her gown was a deep emerald that hugged her waist. The color glowed against her tawny-brown skin. Her hair fell in curls that framed her face. Her lips shined, and her eyes were bright. She looked happy.
And she was not alone.
A tall guy, with a clean cut, broad shoulders, with dark-brown skin stood next to her with an arm placed strategically behind her to keep her close to him as they walked into the room.
A date.
Vic felt as if someone had punched him the stomach.
The man leaned in close to Tachina and whispered something in her ear. She laughed. Vic could hear the melodic sound from where he stood. She patted the man on his chest as they paused in front of one of the renderings.