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I shiver at the sudden mention of his name—and at the prospect that Hannah would try to flirt with him at tonight’s event. I can’t judge her. Although I wouldn’t allow myself to do anything in public, I’m sure I’ll be aware of him all night once he arrives. As will most of the women here, I suppose.
I shake off that thought and force myself to smile.
“Let’s just focus on doing our best work here tonight,” I tell Andrea. “Let the content speak for itself to Carol. I’ll cover Facebook.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I keep an eye on Hannah as I make the rounds through the party, posting photos while mixing it up with fun facts about the new line of equipment. All of it—the tone, the type of language I’m using—is in line with the new branding approach, and I’m proud of it. This is my project, and not even Hannah’s utter dismissal of me as project lead is going to get to me.
This launch party is kind of my launch party, and I’m going to own it.
My circulation through the party takes me back to the equipment to try to capture some interactions between partygoers when I accidentally bump into an older woman.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder. I’m taller than her even though I’m only wearing kitten heels, but there’s something regal about her that has me a little afraid about how she’s going to respond to my clumsiness.
“Don’t be silly,” she says, waving her hand at me before patting my hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “It was my fault entirely. You’re a woman on a mission.”
I laugh. “I suppose I am. I was running over here because it seemed like people were congregating around the equipment and I wanted to ask them what they thought about it.”
The woman leans in and winks, her blue eyes sparkling. “Well, you can ask me, if it helps your mission.”
I perk up. “Really? Have you used the equipment before?”
“Can’t you tell?” she asks, striking a pose before laughing at herself. Her laugh is infectious—I can’t help but join in.
“You look great,” I tell her.
“You’re sweet, but you’re a liar,” she informs me cheerfully. “Ah, youth. Wasted on the young. I hope you’re seizing every moment you have.”
“I’m doing my very best,” I say. “So what do you think about the new line?”
“I think it does what Dynasty says it does. I don’t use my equipment as often as my grandson wants me to, I suppose, but he’s kind of a fanatic. I never feel like I’m out of my depth. It’s very intuitive.”
“Hey, as long as you’re enjoying yourself and feeling good about doing it, that’s all that really matters,” I tell her.
“You need to talk to my grandson, then,” she says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “He thinks I need to be cranking my creaky bones on that damn thing an hour every single day.”
I laugh again. “If you really want me to try, I’ll put in a good word about the good life—doing what you want and when you want and enjoying your Dynasty equipment.”
“Great,” she chirps, beaming over my shoulder. “Now’s your chance. Here he is.”
I turn and my stomach just about drops out of my body.
Declan has strolled up, unnoticed and unannounced, and he’s been looming behind me for god only knows how long.
“Thanks for coming, Gran,” he says, eyes sparkling briefly at me before he bends and kisses her cheek.
Even though he’s so much taller than her, there’s something different about his height around her larger-than-life presence. It’s like seeing him around her removes a piece of armor that had previously been intact. Vulnerable—that’s what he is. I feel lucky to be witnessing his unguarded grin at his grandmother.
“I’d ask if you’re staying out of trouble, but I know better by now,” Declan says dryly, straightening and shaking his head at her.
“Sure you do,” she says before sticking her hand out at me. “I’m Nora, by the way.”
I take it, surprised by the strength of the grasp. “Sophie. Pleased to meet you.”
“Sophie has something to say to you,” Nora says brightly up to Declan, whose attention I now hold completely.
My mouth dries immediately and I splutter. “Um, sort of! Just about the equipment. And your gran—Nora’s use of it.”
