(22) MatchMaker

Xavier's POV

"We should really be on our way," I inform Brad for the fifth time. Dumping the smartphone back into my pocket, my eyes sweep the large foyer for any sign of Claire. Unfortunately she is nowhere in sight, my best guess is that Diane whisked her off somewhere. The pair was literally standing by one of those undecorated table just a mintue ago.

Fuck.

Pressing the thick champagne stem against my palm, I exhale sharply in annoyance. The remaining streaks of cold water run down my clammy fingers ticking me off even more.

I don't know what's worse the bustling event planners or an absentee Claire.

My brother's heavy hand pat my shoulder, his way of silently encouraging me to hop back into the bland conversation. This man has been purposely ignoring everything I've been saying for the past half an hour. It's his childish way of getting me to stay longer than I actually should.

"Xavier dear," my eyes automatically land back on the woman in front of me. "I hoped there was a b