Effortless by Lynn Montagano

dangerously close to mine. “I will kiss you. But not now. And when I do, it will be much more than a kiss. Let’s go.”
    Following him out the door on shaky legs, I remained in a silent daze on the ride over to Brent’s. I didn’t register where he lived or pay much attention to the building. I was so hot and bothered by Alastair’s impromptu game that I almost didn’t greet Brent when he opened the door. Finding my composure, I smiled in the most pleasant way I could and walked into the foyer.
    Brent led us through a large sitting room that was draped in sleek, modern decorations. Large French doors led out to a brick patio that must be great to use when entertaining on a warm summer night. Too bad it was a bit chilly out tonight. Music and laughter wafted in from another room.
    “Everyone’s in here,” Brent said, leading us toward the rest of the guests. I noticed a gorgeous spiral staircase and wondered if he’d give us the whole tour.
    The main living room had an open, airy floor plan that blended into the kitchen. I saw Stephanie chatting with her boss, Cassie, by the breakfast bar. The unmistakable sound of someone knocking a glass with a spoon or butter knife filled the air. I cringed, turning toward the noise and saw that Brent was the source.
    Alastair stood next to me with a possessive arm wrapped around my waist.
    “Everyone,” Brent said.
    The guests quieted down and glanced in our direction. All of them knew who Alastair was but looked at me with growing curiosity.
    “I know this was just going to be a quiet little gathering but I have exciting news.” Brent smiled at me and I almost bolted out the door. “Someone has tamed the elusive Alastair Holden. This is Amelia Meyers, the new executive producer for The Archer Hour. Let me be the first to congratulation her and Alastair on their engagement.”
    Quiet shock filled the room for several seconds before some of the guests whispered to each other. A few of the women looked me up and down and shook their heads almost in sympathy. I stiffened, knowing that Alastair’s reputation still preceded him. Brent signaled to a young man dressed in all black. He scurried over carrying a tray with two filled champagne flutes.
    Concentrating as hard as I could, I lifted a glass for myself and waited for Alastair to grab his.
    “A toast,” Brent said, raising his glass, “to the soon to be Mr. And Mrs. Holden. Here’s to a lifetime of happiness.”
    This had to be the most awkward, insincere toast I’d ever witnessed. People sipped and stared and then went about their business, throwing quick glances at me over their shoulders. I downed the champagne in one gulp, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Now I knew why Alastair would make an appearance at these things and leave after only twenty minutes.
    “Congratulations.”
    My heart froze upon hearing that light, airy voice. Olivia walked into view seconds later, smiling at both of us.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    I thought maybe I was being punk’d or having one of those lucid dreams where I was aware of everything happening around me but couldn’t fully wake up. Olivia stood in front of us, smiling as though this was as normal as breathing.
    “This is really very exciting,” she gushed. “Have you set a date?”
    “No,” Alastair answered, shooting her a warning glance.
    She moved closer to me and placed her hand on my arm. Her fingers were so cold and bony it made me uncomfortable. “If I were you, I’d run off to the Maldives or somewhere gorgeous and warm. Sergio wanted an autumn wedding in Italy otherwise I’d have it on a tropical island.”
    I smiled, I think, and made a little noise that I hoped sounded like a laugh.
    “Did you get my invitation, Lia?” Olivia released my arm and looked at me with her big, round blue eyes.
    Alastair’s grip on my waist tightened. I inhaled slowly, hoping to keep an impassive expression on my face. “I did. Thank you for inviting me but—”
    “I hope you