FOUR
Niall
I stood, staring at where she’d emerged from the lift, and fell utterly speechless. She’d changed in under ten minutes, but looked . . . stunning. In an instant, I was both thrilled to be near her and resentful that this complicated wrinkle—the presence of Ruby—invaded what could otherwise be a dry, rote, and easy business summit.
Swallowing, I motioned behind me to the entrance of Knave. “Shall we get a bite?”
“Yes, please,” she said, and her enormous smile, her long silhouette slightly vibrating with excitement, pulled every remaining thought from my mind. “I could eat an entire cow right now. I hope they have a steak the size of your chest in there.”
I felt my eyebrow lift in amusement.
She laughed as she dug through her clutch for something, mumbling to herself, “I swear I’m normally more intelligent than this.”
I wanted to protest that Ruby was ebullient and refreshing. But I held my tongue; this time, her observation hadn’t really seemed to bother her.
“My brother will be there,” I reminded her. “And his friends. I hope this is okay. They’re good people, just . . .”
“Guys?” she finished for me.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, I can handle guys,” she said, falling into step with me. I noted, perhaps not for the first time, that she had the ability to say things that might sound peckish had they come from my lips but sounded playful and lighthearted coming from hers.
“I imagine you can.”
Turning to look up at me at the hostess stand, she said quietly, “Is that a compliment?”
Her eyes twinkled under the spots of overhead lights just inside the bar, and again, she seemed to know already that whether or not it was a compliment, it certainly wasn’t an insult. The truth was, it had been praise. What I should have said was that she seemed able to handle almost anything.
“I wouldn’t dream of insulting any of your skills.”
“See?” She shook her head a little. With a teasing smile, she said, “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me. You’re so dry. Maybe I should have you hold up a sign.”
I hummed in response, giving her a wink before turning to the hostess. “We’re meeting some people here.” And as I spoke, just over her shoulder I spotted my brother and his friends. “Ah, there they are.”
Without thinking, I took Ruby’s elbow and led her to a table surrounded by low, velvet couches and plush ottomans. Her arm was warm and toned, but once I realized how close to flirtation this had come I released it. It was the way I would lead a date to a table, not a coworker.
Our approach was noted when we were still several tables away, and the men seated—Max, Will, Bennett, and George—stopped talking to watch us. Ruby was tall but slight in a sort of gangly way, but you wouldn’t particularly dwell on it. Her posture was perfect, her chin always straight. She had the grace of a long-limbed woman just barely inside the door to adulthood.
Four pairs of eyes moved from Ruby’s face down her svelte body to her feet and back up before turning to me with renewed brightness.
Bloody hell.
I knew without having to hear one word from his mouth what my wanker of a brother was thinking. I gave him a subtle shake of my head but his grin only expanded.
Everyone stood, greeting me and introducing themselves to Ruby in turn. Hands were grasped, names given, and pleasantries exchanged. A tangle of nerves clutched me. This no longer felt like a business dinner or even a social dinner with my mates. It felt somehow that Ruby was on display, that I was presenting her. That this was an introduction.
“I feel like I’m at a job interview,” she said as she took her seat beside George on a red velvet sofa. “All these suits.”
I swallowed, feeling my face heat in embarrassment and relief as I realized she hadn’t shared my sense about the evening. We hadn’t been flirting after all.
I was rubbish at reading cues.
“The danger of Midtown, I’m afraid,” Bennett said with an easy smile, and waved down the waitress to come take our order.
“A gin and tonic, with as many limes as you can get in there,” Ruby said, and then glanced briefly at the limited bar menu. “And the prosciutto sandwich, please.”
A woman with a fondness for gin and tonics, my favorite evening cocktail? Christ almighty. Even Max caught my eye, brows raised as if to say, Well, well, well.
“I’ll have the same,” I said, handing the waitress the menu. “Though one lime is fine.”
“So how do you all know each other?” Ruby asked Max.
“Well,” he tilted his head toward me, “this one’s my younger brother, of course.”
Ruby smiled. “I heard there’s quite a gaggle of you.”
“That’s right,” Max said with a small laugh. “Ten of us.” He pointed to the men at his side. “Bennett here I met in uni; Will I met when I moved to New York and we made the poor decision to open a business together—”
“Your wallet cries in regret daily,” Will said, dryly.
“George here works with my wife, Sara,” Max finished.
“I’m her Boy Friday,” George clarified. “In charge of schedule, refilling the flasks in her desk, and hiding Page Six from her whenever she and Max get caught out and about.”
With the five of us already acquainted, our attention justifiably fell to Ruby, though I suspect mine may have regardless. In the dim candlelight, and against the backdrop of mirrored walls, heavy velvet curtains, and the dramatic polished wooden décor, she seemed to nearly glow.
“How long have you lived in London?” Bennett asked. “You’re clearly not British.”
“San Diego native,” she said and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Bennett’s eyebrows rose. “My wife and I were married at the Hotel Del on Coronado.”
“Gorgeous!” Ruby’s smile could light this room in the dead of night. “I’ve been to a couple of weddings there and they were stunning.” Ruby thanked the waitress when she set down her drink, and lifted it to take a sip. “I graduated last June and moved to London in September, so about six months,” she said. “I’m in the internship program for one year at Richardson-Corbett, but I’m attending Oxford this fall for graduate school.”
“Ah, another urban planner?” Max asked, glancing over at me.
“No,” Ruby said, shaking her head a little. “Structural engineering.”
My brother sighed in mock relief. “So then you’ll agree with me that urban planning is the most boring profession ever created?”
Laughing, Ruby shook her head again. “I hate to disappoint you, but I was an urban planning—public policy minor.” Max groaned playfully. “I hope to eventually come back to Southern California in a superhero costume and completely revolutionize the mass transit system there, or the lack thereof.”
I found myself leaning closer a little, to hear her better.
“Southern California is clogged with cars,” she said in the continued silence. “Everyone travels between southern cities by car and train, but there isn’t an easy way to navigate cities from within without driving. Los Angeles grew so fast and so wide without an integrated transportation system, so it will be about retrofitting an already complicated urban setting.”
Looking to me, she said as an aside, “It’s why I want to work with Maggie.” Taking a drink then going back to the others, she explained, “Margaret Sheffield, the woman I hope to study under, helped design building infrastructure around established Tube stations and in tight urban spaces. She’s kind of a genius.”
Even Bennett joined the rest of us in regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
“Jesus Christ. How old are you, Ruby?” George exclaimed.
I was grateful to have George at the table. He was willing to ask all of the questions I wanted to, but never would.
She reached up, tucked her hair behind her ear again in a gesture I’d come to translate as her single, uncomfortable tell. “Twenty-three.”
“You’re practically a zygote,” George said, groaning. “All that ambition and you’re not even a quarter century old.”
“Well, how old are you?” she asked, her sunshine grin taking over her entire face. “You don’t look much older than me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” George whined. “It’s depressing. I’m practically approaching Viagra.”
“He’s twenty seven,” Will answered, shoving George playfully.
“But seriously. Let’s get to the important stuff,” George said. “Do you have a boyfriend, adorable-twenty-three-year-old-Ruby?” My attention darted down and I stared intently at my drink. “And does he have an equally adorable gay friend?”
“I have a brother,” she hedged, and then frowned apologetically. “I find him to be pretty adorable, but sadly, he’s straight. I could have made a fortune charging my girlfriends for sleepovers in high school.”
Bennett nodded and said, “I like your entrepreneurial spirit.”
George leaned in, saying, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you sidestepped the boyfriend question. Do I need to play matchmaker while you’re in New York?”
“I honestly don’t think you want to go there.” Ruby lifted her glass and perched her straw on her lips, meeting my eyes. “This one here can attest, only a half hour ago I looked like a streetwalking crackhead.”
“On the contrary,” I argued. “No one wears a hotel robe with more dignity.”
She giggled and then coughed as she swallowed. “You’re my favorite liar.”
“I’m being sincere,” I told her, putting my tumbler back down on a cocktail napkin. “I was also impressed with the way you managed to get a hair pointed in each direction. Few can achieve that simply by napping in a hotel bed.”
She shrugged, her smile nearly giddy over our verbal banter. “Many have tried to teach me the ways of sleek hairstyling. Many have failed.”
I looked up to a table of grown men, watching us with rapt interest. I was definitely going to get the third degree from Max later.
“So, no boyfriend,” George said, grinning wolfishly.
“Nope,” she answered.
“And not interested in anyone in particular?”
Ruby’s mouth opened and immediately snapped closed as her cheeks bloomed pink. And then she blinked around the table, narrowing her eyes. “You can’t tell me you guys all get together for drinks and talk about relationships. Are we moving on to shoes next?”
Bennett tilted his head toward George. “It’s this one. Get him in a bar and it’s always like this.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Ben-Ben,” George drawled, “you’re the boss in the day, I’m the boss after dark.”
Bennett stared at him coolly, and I watched George struggle to not fidget under the pressure. “George,” he said, finally, fighting a laugh, “you have never said that to me.”
In a burst of relieved laughter, George said, “I know but it sounded so good. I’m just trying to impress Ruby.”
“Ruby, you’re going to steal George away from me,” Will said, smiling.
“Not likely.” George reached forward to tap Will’s nose with each word: “She. Doesn’t. Have. The. Right. Parts.”
“Okay, then,” Bennett said, lifting his drink and taking a long swallow. “Back to discussing body parts. All is normal.”