“Hey!” she squeaked, and then cleared her throat. “Wow. My voice. Sorry for the Minnie Mouse impression.”

“Quite all right.” He tucked his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do anything dumb, like stroke those sharp little cheekbones in her place of work. “I just wanted to say bye.”

“You’re not coming to happy hour?” she asked, sounding disappointed enough that Seb had to keep from puffing out his chest.

“Nah, I don’t wanna stand Matty up two Fridays in a row.”

“Understandable. You two have a hot date?”

“Yup. Microwave hotdogs and the Nets on TV.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“You like the Nets?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot for even asking and he had to forcibly fight the urge to propose to her right then and there.

“So,” she started, rocking back on her heels.

She was nervous and he found it impossibly cute. Like so cute he took a little memory snapshot of her standing there, trying to work up the courage to ask what he thought she was going to ask. He decided to help her out.

“So, I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she answered resolutely. “I can’t wait.”

She held his eyes, and Seb could have sworn they were making some sort of promise to one another.

He’d deeply enjoyed the time since he’d found out she was single. Flirting with reckless abandon, nurturing silly little daydreams about her, allowing himself just the barest, lightest of tastes of what it might be like to be her man. But he also knew it wasn’t sustainable. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’d known that the wedding would be punctuation of some sort, for this stage of their game.

And from the nervous, giddy, wanna-kiss expression on her face, she knew it, too.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“HO-LY MOTHER MARY,” Cat groaned from beside Via.

Grace was the next one to chime in. “Good GAWD, that man can wear the hell out of a suit.”

A midsize knot of PS 128 faculty huddled together outside the entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Sadie’s wedding ceremony was going to take place in one of the gardens there, and then the reception would be in their beautiful, glassed-in event space.

Via had never gone to a wedding before, but as she stood in between Shelly and Cat, already laughing, she found she was very excited to go wherever the night took her. Very excited indeed. It was an unseasonably warm mid-November day; the air had a slight bite to it that was offset by bright sun. The yellow leaves that still clung to the trees had the same effect on the blue sky as makeup on an eye. Everyone lifted their faces to the perfumed fall breeze.

Via turned to see what Cat and Grace were commenting on, and every single thought in her head was wiped clean.

As long as Violetta DeRosa lived—be it another hundred years—she would never forget the way Sebastian Dorner looked crossing Flatbush Avenue in a charcoal gray tailored suit. He waved a car across in front of him and strolled over toward the group of educators. God, she’d always had a thing for mirrored aviators. And week-old haircuts. And was that...? Yes, he was wearing a vest underneath the coat. She’d always had a thing for vests. And midnight blue ties and crisp white shirts. And damn. She couldn’t breathe.