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Okay. As long as they weren’t admitting things like awakening hormones, he could get on board with that. “That’s good.”
She took his hand. “We are going to ace this.”
He led the way to the table and introduced Eloise to his first business partner, Elias Greene, and his fianc'ee Bridget O’Malley, the couple getting married on Christmas Eve. As they sat down, another friend, George Russell and his wife, Andi, joined them.
When introduced, Eloise smiled and nodded, and the knots in Ricky’s stomach began to unravel. He expected the husbands to fawn all over her, but he would have never guessed the wives would instantly like her.
Andi leaned over and caught Eloisa’s hand. “I love your dress.”
She laughed. “What? This old thing?”
Andi sniffed. “Okay. Don’t tell me where you got it.”
“Actually, I do a lot of my own designing.”
Andi’s mouth fell open. “You made that?”
“I bought it, then sort of reorganized it to suit my tastes.”
Ricky liked the way she stuck with the truth. She didn’t announce that she was broke, but she didn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t. He took a sip from his water glass, his nerves settling and his faith in their deal reviving. She was doing very well.
They ate salad, filet mignon and simple baked potatoes, and an elaborate chocolate mousse creation for dessert, then Paul gave a toast that was more of a thank-you for coming and blessing to all in the new year, Then the dancing started.
Eloise turned to him with a smile. “I know you’re dying to dance.”
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t. Her dress had no back. He was going to have to put his hands on her.
But his friends expected him to dance, so he gave her points for being a step ahead of the game.
He rose and took her hand. They threaded through the tables to the dance floor and kept going until they were in the center of the throng of people. This far into the dancers, they couldn’t be seen by his friends at their table or even by anyone curious enough to seek them out.
As he pulled her to him, he let his hand fall to the small of her back and found soft, supple skin. But a quick mental review of her dress told him that if he were to lower his hands until he found fabric, he’d be fondling her butt.
Leaving his hand where it was, he cleared his throat. “Interesting back on this dress.”
She laughed and winced. “Sorry.”
“Oh, no. It’s not a problem.” Most guys would kill for the opportunity to touch you like this. But, of course, he didn’t add that out loud. He looked down into her smiling face. “You seem like you’re having fun.”
“Honestly, the steak alone with worth the evening for me.”
He twirled them around. “Not much steak in the diet of someone scrambling to make a living.”
“Or champagne. Or even salad most days.” She caught his gaze and smiled. “Thanks.”
His heart flip-flopped. It had been a long time since he’d made someone happy. It humbled him that this woman was so broke she thanked him for food.
He winced. “You’re welcome. But we still have to introduce you to a few people tonight, so you get your side of the arrangement too.”
“Maybe tonight should just be my getting-my-feet-wet night.” She glanced around. “Is this your usual crowd?”
“Usual crowd?”
“You know. Are these the people who typically get invited to the events you attend?”
Puzzled, he let his gaze ripple from face to face of the people on the dance floor. She was right. He did have a “usual” crowd. He’d see most of these people again and again until January second, when the party circuit would end.
“Yes. But other parties will have additional guests, depending on the event. You won’t see any of these people at my office party. You’ll see one or two at the fraternity reunion. You’ll see them all at Elias and Bridget’s wedding. And you probably saw most of them at Tucker and Olivia’s.”
He twirled them around again, and she laughed.
His gut tightened. Every instinct he had came to life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made someone laugh. Or the last time he’d had fun. But he was having fun now.
* * *
When the music ended, he removed his hand from the softness that was the small of her back and immediately directed her to the couple beside them, Mimi and Oliver French.
She politely shook their hands. “I think I read about you in the Journal last week.”