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Nathan’s laugh held a wealth of skepticism. “That’s what I said about Emily. I won’t say anything to Lachlan. I never saw the photo, okay? But you’d better be damn sure you know what you’re doing. The future of our company, and Nathalie’s life, may depend on it.”
“I understand. Caleb will be here by the weekend.”
“Guess that means you won’t be here to attend the engagement party for me and Emily on Saturday evening?” Nathan let out a gusty sigh. “Her daddy insisted on making it a formal to-do at The Army and Navy Club. She’s in a snit, and I’m trying to duck and cover.”
Ryder could hear the pained expression no doubt plastered on the big Texan’s face and sympathized. Emily Dane and her father, a retired four-star admiral, were constantly butting heads because they were both cut from the same stubborn cloth. “I wish I could, but I already have a prior engagement.” He needed to be back in the UK if he was to keep his promise to Grace and attend the final round of the golf tournament on Sunday as her date.
There was a soft knock on the office door. Nathalie stood at the threshold. “I’m ready to go.”
Chapter Seven
Ryderheldopenthedoor to the Fable Grille and Wine Bar in Tysons Corner. The networking event was being held in a private room in the back.
Nathalie was jumpy. She’d sequestered herself all day in her lab and he couldn’t tell if it was work, or him being her date, that made her jittery.
Danny Mayhew, one of Nathan’s former SEAL teammates and a recent Dìleas hire, arrived earlier, and had texted Ryder the layout of the restaurant. Danny sat at the bar, nursing a fizzy drink, as highlights of the previous night’s American football game played on the TV behind the counter.
Nathan’s fiancée, Emily, called Danny “surfer dude” and Ryder could see why. His tousled blond hair framed his face and fell to just short of his shoulders. The bushy beard he’d sported when Ryder saw him in Afghanistan was down to a close-cut trim. Danny presented himself as a fun-loving, carefree bloke, but Ryder had seen exactly what the former SEAL was capable of.
Ryder ignored Danny as he and Nathalie made their way past the tables in the main dining room to the private room. When they stepped inside, Ryder scanned their surroundings. The room held ten white linen-covered round tables that each seated four. One dark paneled wall housed a built-in glass case with red wine bottles stored neatly in wooden racks. Another linen-draped table with a selection of hors d’oeuvres on silver trays lined the other wall. At the far end, a cash bar was set up beneath a video screen.
Other than the black-clad server behind the bar, he was the only male present.
Nathalie made a beeline for a drink. “A glass of Sauvignon Blanc, please,” she told the bartender. She glanced over her shoulder at Ryder. “Do you want anything?”
“Soda water with lime.” A drink would help him blend.
Drinks in hand, Nathalie took a visible breath and faced the room. “Follow me.” She handed Ryder his glass and headed for a group of women conversing near the hors d’oeuvres.
They greeted her warmly, their curious gazes flitting from her to Ryder.
Nathalie made the introductions. “This is my, uh, college friend, Ryder Montague. He’s in town on business, so I asked him to tag along.”
Ryder dutifully answered questions about what he did for a living, keeping it as vague as possible.
Once he’d satisfied their curiosity, the women turned the conversation back to each other.
He stood next to Nathalie and listened as she took part in the discussion about the strategic initiatives outlined in the DoD’s upcoming National Defense Strategy report. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride in the intelligent, passionate woman next to him as she spoke, her artist’s hands weaving through the air for emphasis. She still left him far behind with her grasp of complex technologies.
The man who finally captured her heart and held onto it would be a lucky bastard.
He glanced longingly at the bottle of bourbon resting on top of the bar and took a gulp of his alcohol-free drink.
“Uh oh,” muttered the woman with the shoulder-length blonde hair who’d introduced herself as Janet. Her gaze fixed on the room’s entrance. “Here comes the barracuda.”
Ryder observed the woman with short, dark brown hair, dressed in a red power suit with matching lipstick, as she made her way around the tables to them. She appeared to be in her late forties and, unlike most of the other women in the room, was dressed to impress.
Or intimidate.
Nathalie’s olive pantsuit might appear understated next to this woman, but she looked classically elegant and professional.
“Nathalie, I’m glad you made it.” The woman in red’s eyes slanted to Ryder, curiosity brimming in their brown depths. “And who is our guest?”
“Hello, Connie.” Nathalie’s greeting held a note of tension. “This is Ryder Montague, a college friend.”
Connie extended red polished fingers to Ryder. “Connie Hubbard, CEO of AEI. We provide engineering, design, and manufacturing expertise for the US and NATO aerospace industries.”
He gave her a polite smile and dutifully grasped her hand briefly before letting go. “It’s nice to meet you, Connie.”