Every Little Thing
Page 17

 Samantha Young

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I knew my mistake but by now the tone of our acquaintance had already been set.
“I think I might have a crush on Tremaine’s dad,” I blurted, five seconds after the men had walked out of the door.
Emery laughed. “The term ‘silver fox’ was invented just for him.”
“What happened there?” I threw my hands up in exasperation.
“What do you mean?”
“Well there is no denying that he spawned Tremaine.” Vaughn was an exact younger replica of his father. “But seriously? How did a man like Liam end up with a son like Vaughn?”
Amused, Emery crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not like you know his father. You spent ten minutes with him.”
“And in that time I learned that he is way more down to earth and amiable than his son. You’d think he’d pass that kind of charm along to his only child.”
“Vaughn is charming to me.”
I tried to not let her words sting but in the end they did. “Of course he is. You come from money. You’re one of his people.”
“I don’t think—”
“Maybe it’s his mom,” I mused, realizing I didn’t know anything about Tremaine other than what everyone else knew—he was a hotelier from Manhattan and his father was the CEO of an international real estate and construction company. The secretive bastard wouldn’t divulge anything else. And I was above Googling someone. Okay. I wasn’t above Googling someone but I was above Googling a man who thought so little of me.
“Maybe what is his mom?”
“Maybe she’s a cold fish.”
Emery gave me a strange look. “Why are you speaking in present tense? Vaughn’s mother died when he was very young.”
Shock hit me right along with guilt for calling a dead woman a cold fish. “I didn’t know that. God. That’s horrible. How do you know that?” I tried not to feel peeved that Emery knew something about Vaughn that I didn’t.
We weren’t in high school after all.
Even though Vaughn made me feel like I was.
“My grandmother. She read the New York and Boston society pages religiously.”
“Does everyone else know about his mom?” Or was I the only insensitive idiot who didn’t?
“I don’t know actually. Now that I think about it no one has ever mentioned it.”
“What else do you know about him?”
“Not a lot. When my grandmother died so did the days of having to listen to her read the society pages to me. Grandmother died when Vaughn was in his early twenties and up until then he was always in the pages for being with a different woman at each event.”
That wasn’t a surprise, I thought, not at all bothered by the rumors that Vaughn had a different woman in his hotel suite every weekend.
Apparently, not much had changed. He was a player then and a player now.
He had to be charming to get all those women into bed. Of course, the fact that he looked like he did certainly helped, but women responded better to a combination of good looks and charm.
At least I did.
Not that I would respond to Vaughn if he did decide to turn the charm offense on me.
Still . . . it was a little hurtful that apparently I was the only one not worthy of seeing that side of him.
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion on my beautiful friend. “What do you mean he’s charming to you?”
“I just mean he’s always very congenial and polite to me.”
“Do you like him?” I tried not to sound accusatory.
“In the way that you mean, no. He’s a little too intimidating for my liking.”
I studied her, my curiosity shifting from Vaughn back to Emery. “Anyone around here strike your fancy?”
Her pale cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “No one in particular. I’m not really looking . . . I mean . . . I’m not very good at talking to men.”
No shit. I grinned and leaned across the counter. “Sweetie, men are easy. Just pretend to find everything they say fascinating.”
“It’s that simple?”
I eyed the tall, willowy blonde in front of me. “When a woman is as gorgeous as you, yes.” A shallow truth, but a truth nonetheless.
Emery blushed harder. “Believe me, as soon as I try to talk to men they’re desperate to get away.”
I hid my wince because I knew she spoke the truth. Even Cooper had told me Emery’s discomfort around him made him want to be anywhere else than in her presence.
“Man lessons,” I decided. “Jess, Dahlia, and I will give you lessons.”
“Man lessons?” Her blue eyes filled with trepidation.
I waved away her obvious concern. “Don’t worry. We’ll just teach you how to talk to them.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s decided!” I backed away and turned on my heel before she could argue with me. “I’ll organize it for this week sometime. Ta-ta!”
I grinned at my cheekiness as I wandered back out onto the boardwalk. I felt for Emery, I really did. I’d never been shy so I didn’t know what it was like, but I could only imagine how it could cripple your social life. Emery Saunders was too sweet, kind, smart, and beautiful to have no social life. I was going to give her one even if the idea terrified her.
Tom had been pretty shy when I first met him but it was hard to be shy around someone like me. I remembered the way he’d blushed on our first date every time I said something inappropriate. He’d come a long way since then, making me laugh with his own dirty jokes.