“It’s okay to miss it,” Logan said quietly.
Josh gave a harsh laugh. “With all due respect, dude, because you seem like a decent guy . . . you don’t know me.”
Logan ignored this, studying Josh with quiet brown eyes. For a man who was wearing honest-to-God tweed right now, there was a sharp shrewdness to his gaze.
“Who’d you work for?” Logan asked. “Before you tried the musician thing.”
“Sullivan and Manning,” Josh said, referring to his old firm.
Logan whistled. “Big time.”
Josh didn’t acknowledge this. He didn’t have to. Sullivan and Manning was synonymous with big money. Their clients were some of the richest in the world. As a result, their employees were some of the richest in the city. But no amount of money could help you out when fate picked you as one of her victims, as she’d done to Josh.
Heather arrived at Josh’s side, saving him from Logan’s prying and his own dark thoughts. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said in surprise, looking at the eggs.
“What can I say?” he said, glancing down at her curls. “I sort of like the idea of you being in my debt. Now what am I doing with these? Do you have some fancy platter I’m supposed to put them on?”
“Not for these,” she said. “Now, if you would have just let me do my quiche like I’d wanted to . . .”
Josh glanced at Logan. “You like quiche?”
“Ahh—”
“Hey, Seth,” Josh called across the room to Brooke’s boyfriend. “Do you like quiche?”
Seth glanced uncomfortably at his girlfriend. “Well—”
“I rest my case,” Josh said, giving Heather a little pat on the cheek.
Heather rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Okay, let’s just have everyone serve themselves from the stove. Guys. Grab a plate!”
“Look at you being all flexible,” Josh said approvingly as the chatty group crowded into the kitchen with plates and began reaching over each other for rolls and fruit salad and eggs and bacon.
Five minutes later, they were gathered around Heather’s table. He was pleased that she didn’t seem to mind when he sat next to her. They were coming along quite nicely in this friendship thing, if he did say so himself.
“So, Josh,” Brooke said, popping a banana slice into her mouth. “What do you think about our girl planning the wedding of one of the most famous women in the country?”
“Ah.” He glanced up at the pretty blonde. “What?”
“I didn’t mention it to him,” Heather said quickly.
“Mention what?”
“The Belles are planning Danica Robinson’s wedding,” Jessie said. “As in all-the-way planning, since she’s too busy to be bothered to mention her preferences. Heather’s in charge.”
Josh stared for a second at the redheaded receptionist before glancing at Heather’s profile.
“Danica Robinson?” he said.
Heather fiddled with her fork. “Yeah. She’s this big social media name. Reality TV, socialite . . . that kind of thing.”
Yeah. Yeah, he was well aware of who Danica Robinson was.
Josh set his fork aside and leaned back. Feeling an intent gaze on him, he glanced across the table and met the light blue eyes of Seth Tyler.
Josh had actually met Tyler once or twice. They weren’t best friends or anything, but back in his hedge fund days, Josh had gone to plenty of fancy fund-raisers. The Tyler family had been at most of them. Hell, they’d hosted half of them.
But it had been a long time ago. Surely Seth barely remembered him, much less remembered that he . . .
The sympathetic look in Seth’s gaze said that the other man did remember. Just like the slight nod told Josh that Seth wasn’t going to mention it.
But the silent exchange hadn’t gone unnoticed. Alexis Morgan and that damn eagle eye of hers leaned forward slightly. “Boys. Anything you want to share with the group?”
Josh hesitated only for a second before realizing he had nothing to hide.
“Actually, I know Danica.”
Everyone stared at him.
“You mean you know of her?” Heather pressed.
He glanced at her. “Ah, no. I mean I know her. Personally.”