For instance, Niamh had brought Lana along.
Lana was dressed in a shimmering silver gown she’d bought from a boutique weeks ago, paired with matching heels—Niamh’s suggestion, of course. She’d even gone to the salon to have her hair and makeup done for the occasion.
“You really think dressing up like this is going to help me meet my Prince Charming?” Lana asked, clearly skeptical.
Niamh nodded with certainty. “Absolutely. I’m on the lookout for you.”
“Oh, please. If you’re picking, then I definitely need to stay away,” Lana replied, waving her hand in mock disgust.
“And why not? I think I have pretty good taste!”
“Yeah, right!”
Lana was genuinely baffled by Niamh’s blind confidence.
She shot Niamh a look. “This coming from the woman who fell for Jonathan—the king of all jerks.”
Niamh opened her mouth, but for once couldn’t come up with a retort.
Deep down, though, she still felt Lana was being unfair. When she’d first fallen for Jonathan, he hadn’t been a jerk—at least, not that she could see. People change, she told herself. Once, she’d thought her first love with Jonathan would be unforgettable; turns out, for him, it was Marina who left the real mark.
Thankfully, she’d wised up.
“Fine, if you don’t trust my taste, you can pick for yourself!”
“Pick what? Most of these people are only here to network and close deals,” Lana muttered, glancing around, visibly bored. “Nobody comes to these things looking for romance. And honestly, these business types aren’t really my crowd.”
Niamh just laughed. “Come on, keep looking. Sooner or later, you’ll find someone who catches your eye.”
She was about to drag Lana toward the dance floor when an event staff member came over and whispered something in her ear.
“Sorry, Lana, something’s come up,” Niamh said.
“Don’t worry about me. Go do your thing!” Lana replied.
Niamh followed the staff member to the entrance, where two security guards were blocking Marina’s way.
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