“St. Clair,” Hunter extends his hand and Barrett takes it. They both pull each other in for a half shake, half man hug and pat on the back. “Good to see you.”

“I saw Hannah inside, she said you were here. We should grab lunch sometime,” Barrett responds.

“Sure. I’ll have Jeannie call Bea to set it up,” Hunter responds.

They smile at each other. Long lost brothers these two.

“So, you’re the idiot,” Hunter says.

“What?” Barrett questions.

“Chloe here is with some idiot that doesn’t recognize she’s the most beautiful woman at the event.”

Barret’s stare falls on me and I chuckle, shifting from foot to foot. That’s not really what I said, but Hunter seems to be enjoying ribbing Barrett.

A moment of silence passes before Barrett answers, “No one’s called me an idiot in a while and gotten away with it. I’ll take that out on you on the racquetball court.”

Hunter laughs. “Sounds good. I’ll see you two. Nice to meet you, Chloe.” He pats my arm and gives Barrett a nod before disappearing.

I expect Barrett to acknowledge what Hunter said, maybe say I look nice, even if it’s only because Hunter called him out. I guess I shouldn’t expect things from Barrett.

“Dinner’s over.” That’s what he says. “I’m going to find Fred before he leaves. Then we’ll go.”

“Sure,” I say, keeping my voice calmer than I feel.

I turn back toward the tables of auction items, and when I glance behind me Barrett is gone.

My eyes catch on that Goldendoodle foster program poster again and I get an idea. A feeling of true giddiness passes through my body for the first time since I walked down the stairs at Barrett’s house.

A few minutes later I return to the main room, a glass of champagne in my hand and a smile on my face.

13. Barrett

CHAPTER 13

Barrett

I usually avoid events like tonight, The Top Dog Gala, like the plague. But with my sights set on Voltaire, I’m making every effort to show Fred that SCM is the right choice. That effort is me putting on this tuxedo, mingling with people I have no interest in talking to and bidding on silent auction items with highly offensive price tags.

At the bar, I order a scotch while Carl orders a gin martini. I sip my scotch and take in the room. After dinner, the ballroom lights dimmed and several tables were cleared to make room for the dance floor. A jazz quartet is now playing softly while couples dance under a canopy of stars that lowered from the ceiling.

All of this for dogs.

My eyes find Chloe, standing near the dance floor with the group of women from our table.

From the moment she walked down the stairs at my place, I knew I was fucked.