“Hot damn, baby girl.” His boyish grin spreads as he rises to pull out my chair, beating Hugo to it. “That gown should be illegal.”
“It’s just a dress, Ford.”
“Nothing’s ever just a dress with you.”
As I drop into the chair, I roll my eyes at him. Instead of getting irritated, he winks at me before sinking back down. Hugo takes the seat to my left as Elise reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“You look amazing. That dress is…wow. I’m so proud of you.” She’s radiant, color high in her cheeks, though the shadows under her eyes give away her sleepless nights with a newborn.
“Thank you,” I say, returning her hand-squeeze. “I’m proud of you, too. And I’m sorry I haven’t been by to visit. I’ve spent every waking hour finishing the gown.”
“It paid off, Novalee. I wouldn’t have missed tonight for anything.”
“Don’t let her fool you.” Landon aims a wry smile at his wife. “I practically had to pry her out of the nursery. She made me swear we’d be home before Theo’s next feeding.”
“He’s three weeks old.” She swats his arm. “I’m allowed to miss him.”
I laugh, glad they finally settled on a name for the baby.
My palm itches to rest over my middle again. After Sebastian, Elise is the one I’d want to tell. She’d cry and grab my hands in excitement. Shout and jump up and down as we make plans to go baby shopping.
The first course arrives before Ford can launch into whatever’s making his eyes gleam. A server sets a small plate in front of each of us, seared scallops topped with an edible flower.
“The committee overruled me on the flowers,” Hugo says, almost apologetic. “Among other things.”
“They’re perfect.” And I mean it. So far, everything about tonight has been flawless.
A waiter leans in to fill our glasses, champagne fizzing pale gold against the crystal. When he reaches mine, I shake my head. “Just water for me, thank you.”
Ford arches a brow. “You? Turning down champagne?”
“I’ve had bad luck with it.” I keep it light, but Los Angeles sits underneath the words, and Ford, who knows exactly what I mean, lets it go with a small nod. He directs the waiter toward my water glass instead.
The scallops give way to a main course of filet, potatoes, and greens. It smells divine, but my stomach disagrees. I cut everything into smaller pieces and chase down a few bites.
“Still having appetite issues?” Elise asks, a crinkle to her brow.
“Just nerves.” I spear a potato and make a show of it.
She holds my gaze a beat longer than I’d like, until Landon steals a bite of steak off her plate.
The conversation flows after that. Ford holds court with a story about a yacht, a customs official, and a crate of something he swears wasperfectlylegal. He even manages to drag a reluctant smile out of Hugo. Landon counters with a less sensational story about Theo’s weight gain, but Elise lights up so bright, he might as well be comparing their son to Einstein.
“He’s doomed,” Ford declares, raising his glass. “With Elise’s face, the boy will break hearts before he can walk.”
“He has Landon’s nose,” she says, tone so stubborn, no one would dare question her.
“My condolences to the kid.”
Landon throws a roll at Ford’s head.
I laugh with them, sparkling water sweating in my hand, grateful to share the evening with the group around this table. The baby has Elise’s chin, but if she wants my brother’s nose on him, then Landon’s nose it is.
The live music shifts into something upbeat, inviting couples to trickle toward the dance floor.
“Duty calls.” Setting his napkin down, Hugo rises. “I have rounds to make.” His gaze sweeps the table, falling on Ford last. “Behave.”
“Always,” he answers, fooling absolutely no one.