Man of My Dreams by Faith Andrews Read Free Book Online Page B

with his eavesdropping.
    Grace mouths ‘sorry,’ realizing what she almost did.
    And Declan just leans in closer, content with me in his arms and oblivious to any of the tension.
    “If my girl wants to bowl tonight, then ugly ass shoes and glow in the dark bowling balls it is.”
    Grace gives Declan an approving pat on the back, “You have a younger brother, Dec? I need me a guy like you.”
    “Yes, but I don’t think you dating my fourteen year old brother would go over well with my parents.”
    The three of us laugh and in this good-humored moment I am so happy with how this night of introductions has turned out.
    “Either you’re too good to be true or you are the prince Mia’s been waiting for to carry her off into the sunset.” She smiles and then turns serious, pointing a finger in Declan’s face, “you better always be this good to her dude, or I’ll kill ya.”

 
     
    It’s the one night of the year that I dread more than going to the dentist and the gynecologist combined : Declan’s office holiday party. Not only is it an effort to dodge the mean spirited “how’d you snag him” looks, but the idea of getting all dolled up to canoodle with some of the most boring people on earth— I cringe at the thought of a table full of Declan’s pretentious coworkers and their ditsy wives. It’s going to take a lot of alcohol and fake smiles to get through this night.
    It still bewilders me how my free-spirited, guitar-slaying husband became an accountant. He’s good at what he does and he seldom complains because, oddly enough, he likes what he does, but it’s not like he fits in with the rest of the number crunchers. What right do I have to second guess his decision anyway? This gig allows me to stay home and raise my kids. When they are both in school full time in a few years I’ll probably go back to teaching, but for now I have Cohen, Marks, & Prussack, LLC to thank for being a hands-on witness to the precious first years of my babies’ lives.
    As we walk into the swanky cocktail portion of the evening, Declan places his hand at the base of my back, leading me into the room. “Babe, you look beautiful. Thanks for doing this for me. I know how much you hate it.”
    What an understatement! “You’re welcome, Dec. You know I wouldn’t make you go stag to this thing. Besides, I need to learn the ropes from Missy and Nadine. You know, for when you make partner.”
    It’s a sore subject and I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but Missy and Nadine are already arm in arm with matching glasses of bubbling champagne and sophisticated updos. Note to self: partner’s wives do chignons and pearls for major events such as these. I’m just not a chignon and pearl type of gal, but then again I didn’t think Declan was a suit and tie type of guy when I met him. And being partner at a prestigious accounting firm wasn’t exactly how I pictured him either.
    “Partner? Please, that’s long off, Mia. Plus, I think these guys are jerking me around. This may be the last CMP holiday party you’ll ever have to endure. I’m tired of doing all the work without any of the credit.”
    Yup, still a sore subject. Time to change it. “Babe, the kids are staying at your parents tonight, why don’t you get me a cosmo?”
    “You sure? One too many of those and I won’t be able to trust that mouth of yours.”
    “Exactly,” I wink at him, giving him an insinuating peck on the cheek.
    He kisses me back and ushers me in the direction of an empty table. “I’ll be right back.”
    I sit at the tiny table, which is covered in a black and white damask tablecloth. The elegant fabric is scattered with miniature crystal snowflakes that glisten in the dim lighting. Large vases stuffed with festive springs of holly create a winter wonderland centerpiece. A soothing string quartet plays a peaceful rendition of Greensleeves. It’s just the thing to get me in the holiday spirit.Maybe this party won’t be so bad after