Chapter 3: Tabby

Wednesday. Fundraiser, Washington, DC.

TABBY GRISSLER GLANCED AT the empty seat next to her and sighed. Days like today were when she missed the presence of her best friend the most. They'd often made the charity circuit together. As executives of large companies, someone had to do it and if they had each other, well, they'd often made a night out of these things. But now Tabby's best friend and partner in crime had a new life, a fiancé, a baby. Everything Tabby had always wanted.

She reached for her glass of water. It wouldn't fill that void inside of her, but it would keep her from ordering something stronger. Without her best friend around Tabby didn't enjoy these events as much. The less she drank, the earlier she would go home and get to video chat with her adorable goddaughter. Not that the baby did much besides sleep these days. Looking at that little human with its ten little fingers and ten little toes filled Tabby with equal parts joy and misery.

The sleepy baby was everything Tabby wanted. Men so often were a disappointment. They envied her money, her family connections, or maybe wanted bragging rights for having slept with her, anything except the future Tabby yearned for. She'd been groomed and raised to lead. If she were a man, it wouldn't be a problem. But as a woman? She just wasn't family material. She was too assertive, too successful, too much for the men she'd dated.

This just wasn't her day. Her melancholy mood had no business being here. Maybe she needed to cut and run early?

It had started before she'd even gotten out of bed. In her not-quite-awake state she'd knocked her open water bottle off the nightstand, soaked her favorite leather sandals in the spilled water, put a foot through her panty hose, poked her eye with her liquid liner causing her to cry black tears and ruin what makeup she had applied, stained her teeth with her lipstick and she'd been out of coffee. The rest of the day had followed suit. It was probably a minor miracle she hadn't ripped her dress or crashed her car.

"Evening," a smooth, deep voice said just behind her.

Tabby glanced up at a man she'd never seen before as he pulled out the chair next to her. And damn if she didn't appreciate the view. He had one of those faces that looked as though it had been carved from marble, all sharp lines, strong jaw. His skin was a warm brown that spoke of time in the sun and at least a touch of Latin genes. His hair was dark and luxurious, the kind she wanted to run her fingers through. And his eyes. God, even when they weren't looking at her she could tell he had those piercing brown eyes. The kind that knew how to make her panties wet.

"Hello," she said slowly.

On one hand, he was even more delectable up close. He smelled of something masculine, something she'd want to wake up to. On the other hand, that was her best friend's seat.

In that moment Tabby could see the next few weeks of her life playing out. She'd tell herself to behave, but at some point she wouldn't be able to help herself. They'd make small talk. She'd order wine. So long as he wasn't a terrible human being she'd give him her number. Things would progress, she'd have butterflies for a week. If he was genuinely good, there might be a week or a month where she'd wonder how she'd been so lucky, was he the one, and just when she'd settled into being in a relationship, he'd dump her.

If she wanted a different kind of man in her life, the change had to start with her.

She mentally told her lady bits to stand down then leaned over to the man.

"Are you sure you have the right table?" she asked.

He glanced at her, brows lifted. Their gazes met and her stomach did that funny loopy thing where it felt as if she were on a rollercoaster.

Handsome wasn't the right word, but it was the best her muddled brain could supply.

He looked away first, pulling out a ticket stub. "This is table nine, seat one, right?"

"Oh. You are correct, sorry. My misunderstanding." Tabby let that information wash over her and felt another pang of loss.

Her bestie had left her family company to raise her baby out from under the oppressive umbrella they'd both grown up under. But Yvonne's family company had continued to purchase the normal seat next to Tabby at all of the functions even if no one else went. Until tonight.

"This is some place." He tipped his head back and took in the venue.

"Yeah, it's a nice change from stuffy old rooms." Tabby followed his gaze to the exposed brick, hanging lights, fabric swathing portions of the wall to create a backdrop for the slideshow of faces.

He twisted in his seat just enough to give her his full attention, and damn if she didn't like it. "You come to these things often?"

Tabby chuckled.

He winced. "I just said that, didn't I?"

"You did."

He hung his head and chuckled.

A man who could laugh at himself? She dug that.

"I do come to these things often." She lifted her shoulders. "I figure supporting causes is the least I can do." Tabby had more complex thoughts about supporting charities, but she wasn't going down that route with a total stranger.

His lips curved up into a warm smile. "Very admirable."

"Says the man who paid five hundred for that seat."

"Guilty." He perched his elbow on the back of his chair.

There was something about him that was a breath of fresh air. He was untainted by politics. He didn't strike her as the schmoozing type.

Who was he?

"Tabby." She held out her hand.

His fingers wrapped around her palm, his hand enveloping hers in a firm, warm shake that sent tendrils of warmth throughout her body, chasing away those bad day blues.

"Javier." His lips curved with the word, making it sensual.

"So, Javier, what do you do?"

"Well, right now I'd like to get us a drink. What will you be having?"

Could she have him?