Page 47

If the girl decides to show up.
And like I divined it, Serena walks into the boardroom, giving an apologetic smile as she takes a seat across the table from me. “Sorry, I got held up.”
Oh, so she can manage to make it today, but not yesterday when we actually needed her?
Although, I shouldn’t be complaining. Her absence led to that kiss.
Dad turns the force of his glare onto Serena, who shrinks in her seat. Maybe I’ll finally have someone to share the burden of being the disappointment of the family with.
Mackenzie continues to outline the progress we’ve made, as well as what’s still scheduled, until Archer pops his head in the room to tell Dad they’re waiting for him at whatever oh so important meeting is next.
Serena immediately perks up, staring at him unabashedly, but he doesn’t even appear to notice her before leaving. She visibly wilts in her seat, lowering her lashes, more somber than usual.
God, now she’s got me feeling sorry for her too. And I’m the one marrying her.
“Let me know who RSVP’s to the wedding,” Dad says, rising from his seat. “And who doesn’t.”
No words of praise for the work we’ve done, not even an acknowledgment of meeting any kind of basic standards.
He exits, leaving a vacuum in his wake, and I glance at the two women, ready to get this next part of the day over with.
I clear my throat, catching their attention. “My town car’s waiting downstairs.”
Mackenzie nods, packing up her bag as Serena’s face takes on a miserable expression. Yeah, I’m not happy about having to go to a dancing lesson with her either.
We take the elevator down, Mackenzie directly next to me, her gardenia-scented perfume drifting over. I inhale, wishing I could back her up against the wall, lean in to her neck, and breathe in that delicious scent before I kiss her again, over and over until I have the shape of her mouth memorized.
Serena scratches at her arm idly and I’m suddenly brought out of my fantasy. You’d think it’d be more awkward being in a cramped space with both my fiancee and the woman I kissed yesterday, but it’s actually… not. It would be different if I felt something for Serena, but we’re practically strangers. And while I can objectively appreciate her beauty, it does nothing to stir anything inside me. Nothing to heat me up, excite me.
Not the way Mackenzie does.
The woman who stands up to Harold fucking Bishop to defend me. I still can’t believe that. And if she regretted that kiss yesterday, she wouldn’t have supported me today, right? Which means… she must be okay with it. She’ll let me do it again.
Please let it happen again.
If there wasan Olympic sport for distressed sighing, I’m fairly sure Cesar Montanez would medal at least bronze.
“Your steps,” he sighs to Serena. “You go back as he goes forward. Do you understand?”
She stomps on my foot, the thing practically numb by now, and lets go of me, shame radiating off her. “I’ve never been very coordinated,” she mumbles.
“No kidding.” I don’t bother lowering my voice, taking the opportunity to wander over to Mackenzie, who’s sitting over by the stereo in the private room at Cesar’s Dance Studio. “I thought you said this guy was the best instructor in Manhattan.”
“He’s not a miracle worker,” she says, watching him try to guide Serena through the correct foot placement. “Give him time.”
“I’m not going to lessons every week. I already know how to dance.” I’m willing to do a lot for the wedding, but it’s because I get to be with Mackenzie. She’s the one who makes it bearable.
Not Serena with her ice cold fingers and insistence on trampling over my feet.
“And how, may I ask, did you become such a good dancer? I have to admit, I was a little surprised.”
“You liked my smooth skills?”
She gives a sly smile. “Oh, is that what they were?”
“Yep. And when you’ve been to as many benefits as I have, you pick up a thing or two.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but is interrupted by Cesar waving us over.