Twice Smitten (A Modern Fairy Tale) Read Free Page A

actual relative coming to the wedding. Yvonne’s usually coiffed ebony hair was curled in tight spiral loops around her face. A grimace marred her beautiful face when she noticed his stare. Drew could feel the threat of polite conversation. He cleared his throat, about to speak, when a crush of people stood and headed to the back of the rented hall.
    “The wet bar is open,” he said in relief.
    Greg swallowed his champagne before he spoke, “Go for it, man. You still have to be eloquent and poignant for the speech.”
    “Don’t remind me.”
    “Look at it this way, I’ll never disown you if you screw it up.”
    Drew took in the room, half filled with their relatives who considered him the family fuck up. He wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer. Most didn’t know what he did. With his background, they probably assumed he made money through crime.
    The last thought made him smile. In a way he was a con man. He sold advice to advertisement companies. Probably, indirectly, even had sold ice to an Eskimo. He was the black sheep, but everyone dressed in formal wear, degrees lining the walls of their corner offices and initials added to their names, were herding like sheep to the wet bar. Like he was about to. Life always came down to common denominators.
    “Yeah, well, you’re the only one worth the trouble,” Drew said.
    The champagne glass stopped at Greg’s lips. “Are we having a Kodak moment?”
    “You wish, you softie.”
    Drew kept back the questions about Abby. He’d seen the exchange before the ceremony. There hadn’t been tears. Abigail wouldn’t make a spectacle of herself to begin with, but he’d expected a lot more emotion from the woman facing the man she walked away from. Instead, she’d looked happy. When their gazes met she looked disturbed and a little irritated. Without meaning to, he searched for her in the crowd. He found her halfway from the front of the line.
    “Duty calls.” Drew shed his jacket.
    The sudden freedom had his limbs loose and made it child’s play for the smile to charm his way right behind Abby, but then an idea took hold. Direct contact was too easy to get a rise out of her.
    He slid behind the redhead and whispered in her ear, “Can I get you a drink?”
    “Drew,” the redhead said. “Right?”
    A man had to be dead in order to not feel a punch to his gut when in this woman’s sights. “Right. So, what are you drinking?”
    “Nothing you have to offer. You cut in line,” Abigail stated the obvious.
    Drew tsked. “I’m speaking to her.” He placed himself between them and put his back to Abby, which wasn’t the smartest thing to do when she had murder in mind. “And you are?”
    The woman’s hazel eyes sparkled up at him. “It’s Sasha.”
    “Oh. Russian origin and usually reserved for a man’s nickname.” He sucked in a telling breath. “But, you are definitely not a man.”
    Crooking her finger, she motioned for him to lean down. Kissable lips fluttered against his ear. “She’s going to gut you for that.”
    Drew laughed as he pulled back. “Hoping for it.”
    “Really?” Her brows arched in interest.
    “How long do you think it’s going to take?”
    Ruby-red stained lips pursed. “You might have a minute.” She placed a hand on his chest. “Get me a bourbon.” She moved her warm hand and pointed to a table where the other friend sat. “Bring it there.” Leaning forward again, she whispered, “I’m getting the hell out of dodge.”
    “You so much as watch her walk away I will poke your eyes out,” Abigail said behind him.
    To add fuel to the fire, Drew cupped his hands in front of his chest when he faced her. “She’s a grown woman.”
    The line moved forward and he went with it. Abigail snatched his wrist and yanked down his hand. “That’s my friend. She’s nice. She’s smart. She’s not your type.”
    He covered the scowl with a smile. “And what is my type, Abby?”
    She blew out a puff of air and started to scout the room.