“Gross,” George said.

“George,” Chloe said, greeting him with a smile.

“Dark Mistress,” he replied.

“And you must be Niall?” she said, turning her attention to me.

“Yes,” I said, and offered my hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

Chloe returned my handshake with a firm grip. “You, too. Where’s the girl?”

“Girl?” I asked, looking at each of them.

Chloe smiled, and I had to admit the effect was quite stunning—if somewhat frightening. I could only imagine the terror this woman could inflict on a poor soul when she put her mind to it.

“I assume she’s talking about your Ruby,” Max said.

“She is not my Ruby,” I corrected.

“Sure she isn’t,” Chloe said. “That’s what they all say.”

As I was busy choking on a bite of truffled Tater Tot, the realization settled in. I’d nearly kissed her at work. “Right, you all settled this the other night.”

“Course we did,” George continued. “You’re the only one who was confused. You turn into a robot around her—”

“To be fair, he’s always a bit of a robot,” Max cut in.

“Cheers, mate,” I mumbled sarcastically. “Funny how I’m the only one here who seemed to be in the dark about it.”

Chloe’s drink had arrived, and she lifted the stemmed glass. “That’s because men are idiots,” she said over the rim. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, women can be jackasses, too, and are every bit as capable of messing things up as men. But in my experience, when these things go wrong, it’s usually the one with the penis who’s fucked it up.” She looked at me with her amused certainty for a moment before adding, “No offense.”

“Well said,” Max told her with a laugh.

They studied me for a few seconds longer before turning back to each other, picking up where they’d apparently left off when I joined them. All except for Chloe, who continued to eye me.

“You never said why you and the girls can’t come to the Catskills this weekend,” Bennett said to Max.

“Sara’s remodeling the entire flat,” Max said, running his palm over the top of his head. “Her designer is coming. I think walls are coming down and . . . oi.”

“Max, you’d better get a handle on that,” Bennett said in warning. “Do you remember when Chloe painted the apartment? A kid with a crayon would have done a better job.”

“Watch it, Mills,” she warned.

“Don’t you start with that, Ryan,” he said back. I was completely confused. “The green kitchen? Even you have to admit how terrible that was.”

“I will not. It was process of elimination; maybe I needed to try out a few before I knew what I really wanted,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. It was pretty clear they weren’t talking about paint colors.

George was already waving a finger at them both. “No, no, no, don’t you bring your foreplay to this table.”

“This remodeling with Sara is a very . . .” Max continued carefully, never one to criticize his wife. “A very ongoing situation.”

“Delicate,” Will added.

Laughing, my brother murmured, “A touch.”

The waiter placed my pint on the table and asked if we needed anything more. I went ahead and ordered a second—best to be prepared, after all. The waiter looked at each of us and then, satisfied we were done, turned to leave.

Will leaned in as a strange hush overtook the table. “George. What about him? He’s cute . . . right?”

“No!” George hissed. “That would be like fucking beef jerky.”

“Good God,” Bennett muttered, wiping his palm down his face. “No one is even talking about fucking. It’s one party.”

“Wait,” Will said, shaking his head. “George, you’re a top?”

Groaning, Max said, “For the love of God, William, stop talking.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “What is happening here?”

George ignored all of us. “Seriously, he’s pickled! He’s so tan I bet it’s reached his liver.”

“I need someone to explain what is happening,” I repeated.

“These two are idiots,” Chloe told me. “George needs to find a date to an RMG party, Will here is suggesting he ask our waiter. Obviously George is suggesting he’s not a suitable candidate.”

“Sorry, ‘RMG’?” I asked.

“Ryan Media Group,” George said. “Bennett decided to throw a soirée, and here I am, dateless. These boys are trying to help. It’s embarrassing to all of us. I’d really rather talk about what you’re going to do about Ruby.”