“Marshal,” Jason says as he hands me a glass and others from our office gather around. Jason turns to all of us. There are three men and four women. We’re the team that worked on the bid. We’re the team that just landed Jason the biggest (and potentially even bigger) deal he’s ever had. “You did it. Thank you,” he says.
We all clink our glasses.
The bar is getting more crowded as we wait for our table.
“Do you know Jackson Carmichael?” Melinda Beavo, a very talented architect and member of our group and a married woman, asks quietly, following my line of vision.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’ve been staring at him for the last fifteen minutes.”
“Do you know him?” I ask, keeping my voice and anger at bay.
“A little. I’m not a member of his fan club, but from what little interaction I’ve had with him, I believe it’s a club of one.”
She makes me smirk. “So you do know him.”
“My husband has done some work with their law firm. My connection is distant, but I’ve had enough encounters to know he is a conceited piece of...” She lifts her glass of red wine to her smiling lips. After taking a drink, she asks, “Why do you care?”
“His fan club has recently inducted a new member. He’s engaged.”
“To that blonde over there, the one he’s been schmoozing with since we arrived?”
“Nope,” I say matter-of-factly.
“How well do you know his fiancée?”
I like Melinda. She’s maybe ten years my senior and has worked hard for her place in our firm, yet she’s never talked down or acted like she knew more than any of the newer members. She’s been open to our ideas while willing to point out her own. She’s a team player, which is about the best compliment I could give anyone. I look directly at Melinda. “His fiancée is my friend. I’ve known her...forever.” I shrug. “She’s probably my best friend.”
“That explains why you look like you want to punch something.”
My poor teeth are ready to splinter as I increase the pressure. “I was thinking more of someone.” I look around the bar, but Sami is nowhere to be found. “I want the piece of shit to know I’m here.”
“You could yell across the bar, but I suggest a more direct approach.”
I look at our group, all chatting and smiles. This is an occasion that deserves celebration. However, my thoughts are consumed with what I’m seeing. I can’t hear what Carmichael and the blonde are saying, but I’m not naive. I’m about as far from it as one can get. I recognize the moves, the body language, the fluttering of her hands and the way he leans in to speak.
Fuck, I perfected those moves.
“Melinda, if anyone asks, will you tell them that I went to speak to a friend and I’ll be right back?”
“Friend?” Her eyes narrow. She reaches for my arm and leans closer. “Be open-minded.” When she releases me, she grins. “See, that—my touching your arm and leaning toward you—was innocent, but from across the bar...”
“Yeah, sure.” Melinda’s touch lasted maybe five seconds. I’ve been watching Carmichael for over fifteen minutes. “I’m very open-minded.”
Open-minded that Jackson Carmichael is a horse’s ass.
With each step, I remind my heart to slow and my blood pressure to calm. I haven’t felt this protective of Sami since college when there was an asshole at a party making his moves on her. Thankfully, he never pressed charges. I’d heard he sported a black eye for a bit. As I neared the group of people, I reminded myself that Sami thought of Carmichael as her forever.
She’d also considered Todd and Josh to name a few.
Josh turned out to be a good guy. He was hired by the Lions. It also happened that after he moved away from Ann Arbor, he discovered what he hadn’t been willing to admit. Josh prefers men to women. A smile comes to my lips as I remember the way Sami took it.
God, she was great.
Last I heard, she and Josh are still good friends.
She’s dated other men along the way, but none of them had put a ring on her finger.
As I rounded the end of the bar, my gaze went from the snow-covered balcony to the dark-haired man at the bar. By the change of his expression, he saw me too.
“Michaels,” Carmichael said with a nod and a sobering expression. “What are you doing here?”
I straightened my shoulders and utilized every inch of my height. “It’s a bar.” I lifted my tumbler. “I’m having a drink. What are you doing here? And” —I nodded at the blonde, who was now scanning me in a way I recognize— “who is your date?”
Carmichael bristled. “This is our newest intern, Ellen Modarski. Ellen, this is Marshal Michaels.”
She lifted her hand my direction. “Very nice to meet you.”
“We’re waiting for our table.” Carmichael’s gaze goes behind me as he tries to make himself appear taller. “And here’s my date.”
As if she materializes out of thin air, Sami steps around me, reaching for her fiancé’s outstretched hand.
“Jack, I’m sorry I’m late.”
She hands him a key fob. “No valet. I parked it myself.”
Jack nods, taking the fob from her.
Before she realizes I am even there, I have a flashback of a dance and a red dress. Hell, the one she is wearing now covers about as much skin as that red one did back then. In her defense, this one is cut differently, not as revealing on top, but damn, how did she walk on the icy sidewalk in those shoes?
Sami spins my direction, her smile wavering and recovering. “Marsh, what’s going on?”
The knot in my chest pulls tighter as I force a smile. I want to tell her the truth. That’s always been our thing. But do I really know the truth? Maybe Melinda is right. Maybe it was all innocent. I clear my throat. “I’m here with some of my coworkers celebrating a big deal and saw Carmichael. I stopped to say hi.”
Carmichael nods. “I heard McMann landed the Sirius Hotel deal.” He extends his hand. “Congratulations. I should buy you a drink.”
I force myself to take his hand. “No, thank you.” I turn to Sami. “Hey gorgeous, how about lunch sometime?”
“I’ve never been able to turn you down.”
When Ellen looks from Sami to me and back, I feel the need to save my best friend, to protect her. I’m not sure if it’s necessary, but I can’t stop myself. “Old friends,” I explain.
“Since you were five?” Carmichael says in the form of a question.
“Since Sami kicked my ass. Watch out. She has a mean right hook.” Sami’s smile warms my heart, slowly unknotting my worries.
“I’ll text you,” she says before turning to Ellen and talking to her, completely unaware that moments earlier that woman was flirting with—no, her fiancé was flirting with that woman.
I can’t say I feel better as I walk away, but I don’t feel worse.
Did I just save Sami from witnessing what I’d been watching?
If I did, is that good or bad?
By the time I make it back to the others from my firm, I’ve chosen to believe it is all innocent and good. I glance across the bar to see her smile. It lights up the entire room. If Sami stood closer to the windows, she would undoubtedly melt the snow.