Free Harvest Moon by Sharon Struth

close to Veronica’s ear. “You look nice tonight. New dress?”
    “It is.” She smiled, very aware it wasn’t the sexy whisperings of Trent, but attention nonetheless. “I’m glad you like it.”
    “I’m going to get another glass of wine. Can I get you one?”
    “No. I’m fine.”
    “I’ll join you.” Dave turned to Bernadette. “Hon, you want anything?”
    “Sure. Another chardonnay, with ice.” Bernadette handed him her glass. “Don’t tell Sophie. She hates when I put ice in my wine.”
    The two men walked off, and Bernadette stepped closer to Veronica and dropped her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re distracted.” Bernadette fanned herself and puffed out her lower lip, blowing aside her bangs. “Is it hot in here or is it me?”
    “It’s you. I am distracted. I got here early and met Duncan’s brother.”
    “Ooh, the world famous Trent. His date tonight meets all my expectations.”
    “What expectations?”
    “His reputation as a ladies’ man.” Bernadette shrugged. “At least, Duncan’s hinted at that. Besides, just look at him. His whole body screams sex. So, you two talked?”
    “A little.” Heat rushed her core, the kiss still so fresh, but she quelled the awareness. “We’d met once before. Remember the guy stuck with me in the elevator at RGI?”
    Bernadette shed her white linen jacket, tossed it onto a nearby chair, and let out a hearty laugh. “So it was Trent in the elevator? Now the story is even funnier.” Bernadette lifted her arms, almost like a monkey and fanned under each armpit. “Geesh, I think I’m in perimenopause.”
    “You might want to cool it on the armpit thing. The Jamiesons mix with a pretty pretentious crowd. Sophie says they already act like Northbridge has some strange characters living here.”
    “We kind of do.” Bernadette stopped fanning herself as Sophie neared.
    She eyed them skeptically, flicking a tendril of chocolate hair away from her eyes while the rest stacked on top of her head in a neat bun, a hairdo befitting the classy red party dress she wore, not her usual casual style. “What are you two whispering about?”
    “About how jealous we are that you’re going to marry Mr. Moneybags and get to have a birthday bash like this.” Bernadette grinned.
    “I’d have been happy with a backyard barbecue. Duncan was so excited to do this, how could I refuse?” She glanced over her shoulder and leaned close, lowering her voice. “Want some dirt?”
    Meg pushed her way into the group, a wine glass in her hand. “Dirt?” Her large green eyes brightened. “Do tell.”
    “Trent cornered me earlier. Asked details about a certain eligible librarian.” Sophie’s Cheshire cat grin aimed at Veronica.
    Veronica’s cheeks warmed. “Who? Me? Like what?”
    “Like how long I’ve known you, were you and Jim serious, where you work—”
    “I hope you didn’t answer him.”
    “Why wouldn’t I?”
    “Because he’s not my type. Not even close. On the spectrum of types, he’s on another chart.”
    “Not so sure I agree with you on that one.” Sophie cut a glance to the others who nodded their agreement. “If you ask me, meeting on the elevator was fate.” She slipped an arm around Veronica’s shoulders. “You’re exactly what he needs. Not another Angie, who—I swear—could be BFF’s with the last girlfriend he had. Lilly or Lola or something. He performs and meets these band groupies. Nice, but not long term material.”
    “He’s in a band?”
    Sophie nodded. “A small group of guys who play acoustic music. They’ve played at some clubs in New York City, Westchester, and around Connecticut. You know, I think he’s ready for a real woman. Maybe it really is fate you two met.”
    Everything about men like Trent scared the hell out of Veronica. Warning lights flashed in her mind, a screaming reminder to listen to her gut. She’d trusted a smooth operator like him once