Millionaire Attends A Friend’s Engagement Dinner, Never Thought He’d Fall For The Bride’s Cousin

The Encounter at the Westmore

Obedia Quincy couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncomfortable in a tailored suit. Standing in the grand ballroom of the Westmore Hotel, he held a champagne flute that he’d barely touched.

As the newly appointed CEO of Vanguard Shipping, one of the largest maritime logistics companies on the East Coast, he was accustomed to commanding attention at business functions. He was not used to awkwardly scanning a room full of strangers at his college friend’s engagement dinner.

“There’s the man of industry himself,” a familiar voice boomed from behind.

Obedia turned to see Marcus, his former roommate, approaching with a wide grin.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

“And miss your engagement dinner? Not a chance,” Obedia replied, embracing his friend with genuine warmth despite his discomfort.

“Though I’m starting to think I should have asked for a plus one. I barely know anyone here.”

Marcus laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Well, that’s about to change. Come meet Eliza’s family. They’re dying to meet the famous Obedia Quincy who once convinced our entire dorm to invest in shipping stocks.”

“That was just dumb luck,” Obedia muttered as Marcus guided him through the crowd toward a cluster of well-dressed guests.

The introduction to Eliza’s parents went smoothly enough. They were polite, if a bit intimidated by his reputation.

As Marcus continued the rounds, Obedia found himself mentally calculating how much longer he needed to stay to fulfill his social obligation. The shipping industry never slept, and a stack of contracts awaited his review back at the penthouse.

“Aunt Clare, where did you put the—”

A breathless voice cut through his thoughts as someone bumped into his arm. Champagne splashed onto his sleeve.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

The woman’s eyes widened in horror as she surveyed the damage.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Obedia opened his mouth to offer a practiced dismissal when he actually looked at her. He really looked at her.

She had warm brown eyes framed by loose auburn curls. A splash of freckles across her nose somehow complimented the emerald green dress she wore.

“It’s just champagne,” he heard himself say, his voice softer than intended.

“Let me at least help clean it up,” she insisted, already reaching for a napkin from a nearby table.

“I’m Ruby, by the way. Ruby Lawson, Eliza’s cousin and apparently the clumsiest bridesmaid in history.”

“Obedia Quincy,” he replied, watching as she dabbed at his sleeve with surprising gentleness.

“Marcus’ friend from college,” she finished, glancing up with a small smile.

“I know. Eliza’s been talking about you for weeks. The shipping tycoon who never has time for anything but work. Her words, not mine.”

Obedia felt an unexpected flush of embarrassment.

“Not entirely unfair.”

“Well, Mr. Quincy, since I’ve already assaulted your suit, perhaps I could make it up to you by introducing you to some people who won’t talk about cargo ships or quarterly profits?”

Something in her teasing tone and the light dancing in her eyes made Obedia forget all about the contracts waiting at home.

“Lead the way, Miss Lawson.”