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Mel and Houghton—the wealthiest couple in Texas, and one of the most well-liked—lived just south of Finley Creek near Barrattville in one of the largest and most ostentatious places Fin had ever seen.
She’d been to a few family reunions at the Barratt Ranch in Barrattville, but Houghton had built this place about a decade ago.
It was modern and clunky and filled with marble. Everywhere.
Mel had started redecorating, at least. It was becoming more of a home and less of a showplace.
Fin had been there several times, with Lacy and Jillian—Mel’s younger sister—and at several charity events.
She and Houghton were third or fourth cousins or something like that. She’d never fully traced the family lineage.
The party was already starting when they arrived.
Fin waited for him to round the front of his Mercedes—not what he drove to work every day—and open the door for her.
The drive over had been filled with easy conversation. Virat wasn’t a huge talker; she’d noticed that about him before. He was extremely intelligent and had a sly sense of humor—but he didn’t dominate the conversation.
Fin had a tendency to overtalk sometimes. But not with him.
The conversation was easy—from the very beginning.
The dinner was better than rubber chicken. Thank goodness. Fin was starving.
She and Virat ended up at a table with Rafe and Jillian, making it easy for her to relax. To enjoy the night.
It was easy to see that Rafe and Virat were good friends. Easy with each other. No competition or one-upmanship. Lacy and her husband came by and joined them after the dinner and before the dancing.
She teased Virat, and he teased back. Then he, Rafe, and Travis fell into an easy conversation about horses while she, Jillian, and Lacy headed to the restroom.
Lacy snickered at her once they were inside the restroom that was practically bigger than the entire NICU wing of the hospital. Maybe that was only a slight exaggeration. Maybe. “You and Virat been together long?”
“Just friends, Lace. He had the evening free, and Margo cancelled on me.”
“Sure. And the fact that the man looks almost as good as Travis in his tux?”
“Better. He looks better. Sorry. Date loyalty trumps Travis.”
“Whatever. I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other. And I’m fully on board with you and Virat. I say...take him home and see what’s under that tux.”
Lacy had a tendency to say things designed to get a rise out of her. But Fin was more controlled than that. She just smiled lightly. “Even if I did. I wouldn’t tell you. You’d just go blabbering.”
“Uh-huh. Right to the Finley Creek Gossip Line.” Both women rolled their eyes, while Jillian laughed.
They’d all three been victims of the grapevine. Not something Fin wanted to repeat.