Читать книгу Perfect Proposals Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 17

GABE sat at his big gleaming desk in his vast and spartan office at BonaVenture later that day, ignoring yet more paperwork. His desk was annoying him too much to concentrate. The colour of the walls was making him twitch. Not that he wanted to shop online for interior decorations ever again. When he’d done so for the party he’d actually felt his balls shrink a size.

Instead he sat there and fumed and wondered, if Paige’s apartment was such a clear reflection of her, then what did this office and his apartment say about him that his oldest friend thought he’d find them comfortable?

He sank his face into his hands and rubbed his temples with his thumbs. Since when had he ever wanted to be comfortable? For as long as he could remember, he’d sought brilliance in his life. He’d wanted to make an impression. Every way, every day. Nothing like having your parents die young to show a kid that every moment counted.

And somehow that had twisted into a footloose existence where the only thing that had his lasting imprint on it was a bed.

It was a hard truth to admit. Harder still to know what, if anything, he planned to do about it. Because no matter how far his life was from his original plans, it worked. Look at the success that had come of it. Did he even have the right to want to change things now?

When Nate came into his office followed by his assistant and a tray of coffee and doughnuts, like any cornered animal, Gabe lashed out. ‘Tell me we’re nearly done,’ he growled.

‘But that would be a lie,’ Nate said. The assistant smartly left.

‘I’ve read everything you’ve put in front of me. Listened to a dozen different experts. I’m not sure what else can be brought to the table. Hell, I’ll take a meeting with a bearded lady and her psychic monkey if that’ll convince you I’m up to speed.’

The sober leather chair on the other side of Gabe’s desk squeaked as Nate lowered himself into it. ‘I hoped your time away would eventually wear down the chip on your shoulder. Seems it’s burnished it to a shine.’

Gabe glanced across at Nate, a fighting muscle jumping under his left eye, to find Nate looking tired. More than tired, he looked older. As if the years, the business, had taken their toll on him too. Gabe wrestled his inner bear back into his cave, because he knew he was partly to blame.

‘I’ve been working on this move for nearly eight months,’ Nate said, his eyes hidden as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger deep into his sockets. ‘And all I’ve asked of you is a few days to play catch up.’

‘I’ve hardly been twiddling my thumbs all this time.’

Nate stopped rubbing his eyes. Instead he looked at the ceiling, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘Never said you had, mate. But I can’t do this on my own. Well, I can, clearly.’

Gabe opened his mouth to refute that, but the steel in Nate’s eyes stopped him.

‘More to the point,’ Nate said, ‘I don’t want to do it on my own. When we created this monster together everybody thought we were crazy. But we knew better. And it was fun. Even through the lean years. Look at what we achieved back then. Look at Alex. He wouldn’t be the wunderkind he is now without us. And Harry’s little website now practically runs the web. Then there were the McDumbass twins. What were we thinking there? Good times even when they were bad.’

Gabe’s chest tightened. It had been so good. Exhilarating. Every decision fraught with risk and they’d only had their guts to guide them. And yet they’d got it so right time and time again. When had it all started to feel like so much work? He knew when. The one time he’d got it so very wrong.

Gabe leaned forward, placing his hands palm down on the table so as not to clench them into fists. ‘We agreed back then that I’d take care of the research, you the schmoozing.’

‘Mate,’ Nate said, his smile wry. ‘I let you sacrifice yourself for the sake of the company, because with your overblown sense of moral justice if I’d asked you to stay you’d have walked in a heartbeat thinking that’s what was needed to save us all.’

‘I—’ Would have, for absolute sure. His gran’s voice rang in his head: Work hard, boy, and make me proud. It was the compass by which he lived his life. And it felt as if he’d never stopped paying for the one time he’d lost his way.

In frustration, Gabe pushed at a pile of paperwork that shifted and swooshed to the floor. They both looked at it a moment, neither of them with the energy to clean it up.

‘This is what it comes down to,’ Nate said. ‘List, or not. Sell, or don’t. Make more money than we’ll ever know what to do with overnight, or keep at it.’

‘You got any dice on you?’ Gabe said, and Nate’s jaw clenched so hard pink spots broke out on his neck and cheeks.

‘If that’s how you want to choose, then that’s your business. Just pick.’ Nate thumped himself on the chest with a closed fist. ‘It’s not fun for me any more. How about you? When was the last time you found this fun?’

Gabe stared back.

‘Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought.’

Gabe’s insides felt so twisted he wasn’t sure they’d ever find a way to untwist again. The desire to walk out of that door, only this time to never look back, burned within him. He knew he could go out on his own and survive fine. But something held him back. Whether it was his ‘overblown moral compass’ or something more elusive he could no longer be sure.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Nate said, standing and heading for the door. ‘Get a drink. We can do this later. There’s no rush.’

Gabe, who’d already decided a drink was a damn good idea, pushed himself to his feet. ‘No rush? You spent the last ten minutes convincing me to make a decision!’

Nate’s shoulders squared from behind as his fingers curled around the door. And with a rush Gabe understood.

Gabe said, ‘Did you really think if you kept me here long enough I’d magically begin to realise all that I’d walked away from, and stay?’

Nate turned and leant against the doorjamb, a lazy smile spreading across his face, though there was no humour in it. ‘Well, yeah, actually. It’s time for you to come home. Because if you’re not going to run this thing with me, then I’m out.’

Gabe blinked. He thought of what it had taken for him to come home. The red-eye flight. Sleeping on the floor of his apartment. The million memories, good bad and everything in between, clawing at him from every street corner. The bitter winter cold that never seemed to leave his bones unless he was with Paige—

His inner rant stopped there as if it had run head first into a brick wall.

Paige.

No matter the storm gathering around him, he couldn’t add her to the fallout. The mere thought of her, warm and willing and wanton, was enough to quiet the worst of the noise building in his mind. His time with her was probably the reason he’d made it to this point without imploding. Or simply getting on a plane in the middle of the night. Or noticing Nate’s now patently obvious motivation.

While she’d never even invited him in.

‘So, old friend,’ Nate said, cutting into his abstraction, ‘do we take this thing out for a proper spin together? Or do we make more money than Midas and walk away?’

Nate gave the doorjamb a thump, and left, his voice sliding back through the door as if he were on the other side of the world as he said, ‘Now hurry up. That drink won’t wait all day.’

Paige gazed out of the window of the dark and sumptuous Rockpool Bar and Grill, the lights of the city glittering over her reflection in the glass. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed on a first date. It was as if the breakthrough she’d had that morning about how she felt about Mae’s engagement had unblocked all sorts of things inside her.

And then there was her date, who, for all intents and purposes, should have run screaming the minute she’d opened her door wearing a wedding dress that morning. But he’d stayed. Let her talk. Stripped her bare. Didn’t flip out. That took some kind of man. Intrepid. Generous. Rock-solid. A Grown-Up. A man who knew himself so well he’d never have asked her on a date if there was anywhere else he’d rather be.

When he’d shown up at her apartment door earlier that evening in dark jeans, clean boots and tailored jacket over a grey shirt—his version of dressed up—she’d felt so full it had taken every ounce of energy to appear normal. But he didn’t make her feel normal. He made her feel safe. And for someone who spent her life waiting for the other shoe to drop, it was a trip.

She breathed deep, her nostrils filling with the mouth-watering scent of char-grilled beef, her gaze tripping over the mass of shiny black tables, past portraits of cattle hanging on the walls, to snatch glimpses of Gabe as he paced in the bar. After he pocketed his phone, and jogged up the steps to the dark restaurant, his eyes found hers. And her breath left her lungs in a whoosh as it always did when she found herself the subject of that stunning gaze.

‘Sorry,’ he grumbled as he sat across from her, ‘work.’

She shrugged. Not much caring. She was glad to be there with a guy she liked and respected. One whose company, conversation, touch she’d missed acutely when he was away. But she’d survived just fine. She felt so urbane she could burst.

‘You picked dessert?’ he asked, flicking through the menu.

‘You’re not going to look at the appetisers first?’

‘Never. Rule of thumb is only choose as much pre-dessert dinner as your chosen dessert will allow.’

‘How you look like that when you eat how you do is beyond me.’

He glanced up at her, his eyes dark, but a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘God loves me.’

‘Clearly.’ Her breath caught when he held her a gaze a fraction longer before his eyes swept slowly down her length before landing back on the dessert page. His smile turned to a grin as he said, ‘There. Doughnuts. Lemon curd with vanilla apple and ice cream.’

When he flicked back to the steak selections, Paige leant her cheek in her palm and took her fill. The dark shirt straining across his huge shoulders. The golden lamps created gleaming streaks in his dark hair and shadows beneath his slashing cheekbones. Though she was sure the shadows beneath his eyes had nothing to do with the fall of the light.

He’d had a hard day, which she had no doubt had been made harder still by how it had begun. And yet here he was. A yearning kind of ache blossomed in her chest. And the same fullness she’d felt when he’d appeared at her door. Her heart beat a little faster to compensate.

Gabe looked up from his menu, and caught her staring. His eyebrows rose in question.

‘So how is work?’ she said, glancing away to find her wine. ‘All big secret plans you’re here to work on going well?’

A muscle jerked in his jaw and he frowned at the menu. ‘Well enough.’

‘Nearly done doing whatever it is you came here to do?’ she asked.

He folded the menu and grabbed his drink, not even catching her eye as he said, ‘Not soon enough.’

Whoa. She rubbed at the bare arm of her one-shouldered dress as she came out in a sudden case of goose bumps. ‘So what are you working on, exactly?’

Gabe’s eyes, darker still, slid back to hers. ‘I can’t discuss it.’

‘Why the heck not?’

All he offered was a stubborn lift of his shoulder, and as the blissful warmth she’d been basking in all the long day took on a decided chill her contrary muscle kicked into full gear. She looked right back as she asked, ‘What are you, some kind of spy?’

His mouth twitched, before flattening into a straight line. ‘No. But my work can be … sensitive.’

She looked from one dark eye to the next, looking for a glimmer, a spark, something to tell her he was kidding and she’d missed the subtlety of his tone. But all she got was a big old wall. ‘But you work in investments of some kind, right? Like a mini-bank.’

The pause before he nodded was so long Paige felt every beat of her heart, thumping short and tight. She waited, impatiently, until his distracted gaze caught on hers. ‘I admit it’s been a while since I’ve been on an actual date. But from memory it’s the kind of event where people talk, with work being a common topic. So how about I go first? After the Brazil range we’re going Parisienne for autumn. Your turn.’

She knew she was pushing him. His stillness couldn’t have made it more obvious. But the leap it had taken for her to risk escalating what she felt for him by putting a name on it had been a leap of faith. In this. In him. She’d poured out her heart about the whole Mae thing. Something so deeply personal she hadn’t even been able to admit it to herself. While he was acting like, well, pretty much the definition of a jerk.

She never should have agreed to do this. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for, feeling all anxious and shaky and hopeful. She knew better than to make herself vulnerable to having her emotions screwed with by the actions of some guy.

She tucked her feet beneath her chair, ready to throw down her napkin and get the hell out of there before she did something completely daft, like cry.

Until Gabe casually threw out, ‘My work’s not a game, Paige. Not all frou-frou and garnish. A lot of money’s at stake. And reputations. Hundreds of people’s futures.’

Paige’s fingers still gripped the table, and, ignoring the frou-frou and garnish comment in an effort to stop herself from throwing her drink at him, she said, ‘Good for you. But that doesn’t explain the stoic silence on the subject.’

‘The sharing of privileged information has serious consequences. I have to be extremely careful about who I talk to about my business particulars.’

It was so ridiculous she actually laughed out loud. And then a memory flickered into her head. ‘Mae! Is this about that “insider trading” joke she made back at The Brasserie that night?’

Gabe didn’t even blink as he said, ‘She doesn’t seem to be the most discreet person on the planet.’

Wow. Jerk didn’t even begin to describe how he was acting. While she felt like the world’s biggest fool.

‘Enjoy your dessert,’ Paige said, already on her feet as she grabbed her purse, threw twenty bucks for the drinks on the table. And then, in a last-ditch effort to appear sophisticated and not the trembly mess she felt, she added, ‘Call me when you’re done. I’ll keep your side of my bed warm.’

She stalked out of the restaurant all but blind with rage and hurt and humiliation.

For a moment there, her heart pitter-pattering as she’d watched his beautiful head bent over the dessert menu, she’d actually let herself dream a little that maybe her soft, warm feelings for him meant something. That the fact that he’d seen her in a wedding dress and not fainted was a sign that something special was happening. Something precious. That her luck had changed.

Luck schmuck. For her to think differently about love, she’d need luck, a miracle, and the kind of change of heart for which she’d need a defibrillator, a thousand volts, and a near-death experience thrown in for good measure.

Gabe sat alone at the table long enough to finish his drink, even while it tasted bitter the whole way down. He had every intention of staying till the meal was done. There were doughnuts after all. Until out of the corner of his eye he saw the coat-check stubs, both of them, still on the table, meaning Paige was heading out there, into the freezing cold night, in an outfit that would give her frostbite.

‘Dammit,’ he growled, throwing a couple of hundred down to cover the table, before he grabbed the nearest waiter, jabbed the coat-check stubs in his hands and offered him another fifty if he got the coats in thirty seconds flat.

There was no denying he was angry that Paige had stormed off. Nothing he’d said had been untrue, even while he’d hardly gone out of his way to mollify her when it became clear she was getting upset. It was only because the urge to tell her everything she wanted to know had been so strong. After his run-in with Nate, the desire to get her take, to see the convoluted mess through her clear eyes, was too seductive.

And he’d been there before. Gripped by the need to open up to someone. He’d lost his gran just before he’d met Lydia, and had needed someone soft and warm to listen while he talked. And now he might be about to lose his company, his life’s work, and again he found himself turning to a woman. A cool blonde, to make things that much more convoluted, especially when giving into that urge had screwed things up so royally the first time.

Coats in hand, he shot out of the restaurant, down the long hallway, his long strides landing in the circles of golden light. He burst out into the Crown Casino complex, turned back the way they’d come.

Relief poured through him as he saw her on the next level down, halfway across the dark marble lobby and heading for the street. No way he could have missed her; not in that dress. Red, sleek, with a well-placed frill, a split up the side and one-bare shoulder, it had made it nearly impossible for him to keep his hands to himself, even while she pissed him off.

When she hit the busy night-time crowd outside he might never find her. He ran down the escalator, apologising every two seconds, and he angled past the bustling crowd. And he caught up with her at the edge of the cab rank, standing tall, back straight as the valet hailed her a cab.

Gabe threw his coat over his elbow and placed hers over her shoulders. She didn’t even flinch. As if she’d known he was there. As if her awareness of him was that attuned. Even as he tried to block out every feeling that realisation lit a spark of desire in his blood.

A cab swept up the crescent-shaped drive and Gabe whipped open the back door before it had even pulled to a halt. Paige slid inside and Gabe followed.

‘Where to?’ the cabbie asked.

When Gabe barked, ‘Just drive,’ the cabbie didn’t argue. He set his meter to running and curved into traffic, whistling beneath his breath.

Paige slid her seat belt into place and looked out of the far window. Moonlight glinted off her hair. The city lights reflecting colour onto the curves of her red dress. It had slid halfway up her thighs, leaving her long legs smooth, tempting, crossed, knees pointed determinedly away from him.

‘Paige, look at me.’

She shook her head, and if anything sat straighter. And like a slap to his subconscious he remembered the hurt twisting Paige’s beautiful features as she’d thrown money on the table and offered him her bed for the night.

He fought the urge to kick the back of the cabbie’s seat, and closed his eyes and prayed for patience. And help. Something he hadn’t asked for in a long long time. He’d been so used to doing everything on his own. He’d had no choice. But if anyone out there was listening, he’d take whatever help he could get to make Paige listen.

The only thing close to help it got him was an insistent voice telling him to help himself. He ran a hand through his hair and said, ‘I was an ass back there.’

Her shoulder lifted. But had her breath hitched in her throat?

He shifted to face her more fully. ‘A stubborn, mulish ass. A jerk, if you will.’

Her shoulders slowly lowered. Silence hovered between them. And she turned, a half-turn, so he had her profile to contend with: long lashes, stunning eyes, red lips, skin like alabaster in the moonlight. She said, ‘Too right.’

Okay, so she was talking to him. What more did he want? Hell, if he knew. But the idea of losing her right when things were so unstable at BonaVenture gave him such a tightness in his chest he gripped his fingers into a fist ready to give himself a good thump.

She breathed out long and slow, then in a voice with the kind of calm he’d have killed for in that moment she said, ‘You have no idea the secrets I’ve kept in my life. I’m just saying.’

Gabe leant his arm along the back of the seat. ‘Such as?’

She glanced at the cabbie, who was singing ‘O Sole Mio’ at the top of his lungs by then, before she realised the trap. Her blood-red lips curved into a smile, even while her forehead puckered into a frown. ‘The big ones aren’t secrets any more. Stuff about my mum and dad mostly. About his cheating. Mum knew it, I knew it, and we all pretended like it wasn’t happening to keep the peace. Not so peaceful that, actually. Suffocating in fact. Much better now the secrets are out in the open. For all of us.’

Gabe watched her, eyes glinting, jaw tight, doing what she needed to do to rise above what amounted to a right royal mess of an example of what a relationship should be. His parents had died when he was young enough that he’d never had any kind of example of what a real loving relationship meant. His gran had tried to instil in him a sense of right and wrong, and had probably hoped that with that foundation he’d figure out the rest as he went along. Would she be disappointed how profoundly he had not figured it out? No doubt.

‘It’s fine,’ Paige said into his silence. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything about your life if it makes you uncomfortable. Honestly.’ But by the down-turned edges of her beautiful mouth he knew it was anything but fine.

Letting him in the cab had been her way of offering him a second chance. And he was going to take it. He needed a mental run-up. Even while the gist of his ignominy was public record, proof that even all these years later there was no getting away from it, talking about that time was … difficult. But if it came down to talking, or saying goodbye then and there …

Gabe wiped both damp hands down the sides of his thighs and talked. ‘When I said the sharing of privileged information has serious consequences, it’s because I know from direct experience. I talked too much once and it nearly cost me everything. So you can understand how I need to be careful about such things.’

‘How did you screw up?’

Those big blue eyes of hers looked right into him. Drawing him in like a siren song. And even as he told himself the song was not meant for him he said, ‘A woman. A blonde.’

Paige curled a swathe of her golden hair around a finger.

‘No,’ he said, answering her unspoken question. ‘Not like you at all.’

Her eyes swept back to his, darker now. ‘Girlfriend? Fiancée? Wife?’

‘Friend. With benefits.’

A smile ghosted across her face. ‘A bit like me, then.’

Gabe shook his head. ‘Not unless you are my lead for a company I’m investing in, but spying for my direct competition at the same time. ‘

‘Ouch.’

‘Indeed. My rival, who couldn’t find a good idea with two hands and a flashlight, leaked our relationship to the Australian Securities Commission, which led to an investigation.’ Gabe looked out of the window. It had started to rain. The city lights now reflecting off the shining black road, the swish of tyres on the wet surface strangely soothing, considering how fast and frantic his heart was beating. ‘We were cleared, but that kind of thing sticks.’

‘Why did she do it?’

‘Money, and a lot of it, for making me, a complete stranger to her before that point, look criminal at worst, incompetent at best. She wrote me a year or so after, explaining. Her husband had left her, and taken their kids and their cash and disappeared. She needed the money to find him.’

‘She was desperate,’ Paige said, as if it was no excuse, but maybe she understood a little.

Gabe turned back to find her knees had swung to face him and were mere millimetres from his own. His gaze fixated on the shadow beneath the stretch of red fabric at her thighs and his solar plexus clenched. ‘You don’t stumble into that kind of thing all the time in home wares?’

She moved a little, the dress rode higher and he had to grip the seat so as not to slide a hand up her warm thigh. She said, ‘We did believe our catalogue images were stolen once. Turned out the intern had let a virus into the system when she was downloading a fake version of Angry Birds and it had eaten every image on file.’

‘Not the same thing, then,’ he said, his voice dry.

‘Not so much.’

The cabbie finished his song, and in the silence Paige’s chest rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm. Now fixated on the silky frill that fluttered over her right breast every time she breathed, Gabe found himself saying, ‘We were on top of the world right when it happened, and afterwards so near bankruptcy Nate was living on sandwiches and I was living on the crusts so that every spare cent could stay in the business. My only choice was to take myself out of the picture, while still doing the thing I did best, to give BonaVenture a chance. And I’ve been travelling ever since.’

Her long lashes swept swiftly against her soft cheeks and she looked long and hard at the middle of his chest. Every muscle within touching distance of that gaze clenched. ‘How long ago was this?’ she asked.

‘Seven years.’

‘About the time your gran Gabriella died.’ Not a question. A statement. And, hell, if he couldn’t remember even having told her.

His voice was gruff as he said, ‘About then.’

‘You were what? Mid-twenties? That’s a lot to deal with. Especially for someone so young.’

Again with the understanding, he thought, but even he didn’t fall for the nonchalant act. Instead he remembered with a piercing kind of immediacy how adrift he’d felt at that time. Anchorless. As if he’d lost his moral compass right as he’d hit the jackpot with money and success. Hell, no wonder he’d been easy pickings for the first woman who’d tried.

Her voice sang to him through the murky haze. ‘BonaVenture Capital? Like the sponsors of the tennis? And that race before the Melbourne Cup, that’s the BonaVenture Stakes, right?’

Gabe nodded again. Not that he’d known any of that before he’d read about it in the prospectus these last weeks.

‘Well, it seems to me that, whatever you did, it worked. You lost your glass slipper for a while, but in the end you found it again.’ And then she smiled, a soft, perceptive smile, and her eyes turned that particular shade of deep melting blue they only seemed to turn when they found him.

The image snapped something inside him. He felt it lodge in his ribs, like a Polaroid jammed in the corner of a mirror. A moment he should never forget. Then before he could stop himself he said, ‘We’re listing the company on the stock market. That’s why I came back.’

He waited for the cold hard grip of panic to envelop him at what he’d revealed. But it never came. Instead he felt as if a fist that had been clenched deep inside him for as long as he could remember had unfurled and let go.

‘Well, there you go. There’s your happy ending,’ she said, brightly, clearly having no idea what he’d given her. Or what he’d given himself. Then, ‘I assume lips sealed on that one? No telling Mae?’

‘Paige, about that—’

‘Oh, shut up. She’s the biggest blabber mouth this side of Antarctica. But I’m the only one who’s allowed to say it. Capiche? And thanks for telling me.’

She leaned in then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and kissed him. Her lips were warm and sweet, the gentle flick of her tongue over his bottom lip incendiary.

When she pulled back she looked into his eyes and grinned. If her smudged lipstick was anything to go on he knew why. He was man enough to own a red pout for a kiss like that any day of the week. She unbuckled her belt, slid across the seat and leant on his shoulder. He belted her in, safe. Her scent curled into his nose, her sweet, luscious body nestled against his side, and he gave the cabbie directions to Docklands in a tone that meant the sooner the better.

He watched the familiar buildings slide by in silence. He’d always thought Melbourne looked its best in the rain. It brought lustre to the dark architecture. That night the city fair glittered back at him, like the facets of a jewel.

And Gabe realised whatever happened after this, without the secrets pressing against the inside of his skull as they had for so very long, for the first time in a long time he could see the flicker of brilliance at the corner of his eye.

Gabe walked Paige from the lift to her apartment door. He stood back, hands in his pockets, as she unlocked her front door, not wanting to fracture the delicate peace they somehow seemed to have carved out of the chaos of the evening.

Once the door was ajar she turned to him, her hand against his chest, small, warm, yet strong enough to make him feel as if it held his heart at bay. ‘One more question.’

‘Shoot.’

‘This blonde who caused you all that trouble. Was she a natural blonde?’

He coughed out a laugh. ‘Lydia?’ he said, the name not creating the same swell of acid in his stomach as it used to. He thought about it. ‘I’m not sure that she was.’

‘Then there was your problem,’ she said, her eyes meeting his. ‘You should stick to natural blondes only in future.’

‘I’ll take that under advisement.’

They stood that way for a few beats, or a few minutes, how the hell was he to know? He was caught in those big blue eyes, and that gentle barely there touch had him rooted to the spot.

Then she stepped aside. ‘Coming in?’

After the night they’d had Gabe wondered if it might be for the best to kiss her goodnight and head up to bed. To let the things they’d shared settle a while.

For about a tenth of a second he wondered, before he stepped over her threshold and sank his hand into her glorious hair, and pressed his mouth, his body, his self as wholly against her as it was possible to do while upright and fully clothed.

He’d been invited after all.