“How fascinating. Well, welcome. I hope you have a wonderful time. We’re so glad you could make it.”
Feeling strangely unsettled, I was grateful when her attention moved to Cary and zeroed in.
“And you must be Cary,” she crooned. “Here I’d been certain my two boys were the most attractive in the world. I see I was wrong about that. You are simply divine, young man.”
Cary flashed his megawatt smile. “Ah, I think I’m in love, Mrs. Vidal.”
She laughed with throaty delight. “Please. Call me Elizabeth. Or Lizzie, if you’re brave enough.”
Looking away, I found my hand clasped by Christopher Vidal Senior. In many ways, he reminded me of his son, with his slate green eyes and boyish smile. In others, he was a pleasant surprise. Dressed in khakis, loafers, and a cashmere cardigan, he looked more like a college professor than a music company executive.
“Eva. May I call you Eva?”
“Please do.”
“Call me Chris. It makes it a little easier to distinguish between me and Christopher.” His head tilted to the side as he contemplated me through quirky brass spectacles. “I can see why Gideon is so taken with you. Your eyes are a stormy gray, yet they’re so clear and direct. Quite the most beautiful eyes I think I’ve ever seen, aside from my wife’s.”
I flushed. “Thank you.”
“Is Gideon coming?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Why didn’t his parents know the answer to that question?
“We always hope.” He gestured at a waiting servant. “Please head back to the gardens and make yourself at home.”
Christopher greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while Gideon’s sister Ireland sized me up in a sulky way that only a teenager could pull off. “You’re a blonde,” she said.
Jeez. Was Gideon’s preference for dark-haired women a damn law or something? “And you’re a very lovely brunette.”
Cary offered me his arm and I accepted it gratefully.
As we walked away, he asked me quietly, “Were they what you expected?”
“His mom, maybe. His stepdad, no.” I looked back over my shoulder, taking in the elegant floor-length cream sheath dress that clung to Elizabeth Vidal’s svelte figure. I thought of what little I knew about Gideon’s family. “How does a boy grow up to be a businessman who takes over his stepfather’s family business?”
“Cross owns shares in Vidal Records?”
“Controlling interest.”
“Hmm. Maybe it was a bailout?” he offered. “A helping hand during a trying time for the music industry?”
“Why not just give him the money?” I wondered.
“Because he’s a shrewd businessman?”
With a sharp exhalation, I waved the question away and cleared my mind. I was attending the party for Cary, not Gideon, and I was going to keep that first and foremost in my thoughts.
Once we’d moved outside, we found a large, elaborately decorated marquee erected in the rear garden. Although the day was beautiful enough to stay out in the sun, I found a seat at a circular table covered in white damask instead.
Cary patted my shoulder. “You relax. I’ll network.”
“Go get ’em.”
He moved away, intent on his agenda.
I sipped champagne and chatted with everyone who stopped by to strike up a conversation. There were a lot of recording artists at the party whose work I listened to, and I watched them covertly, a bit starstruck. For all the elegance of the surroundings and the endless number of servants, the overall vibe was casual and relaxed.
I was starting to enjoy myself when someone I’d hoped never to see again stepped out of the house onto the terrace: Magdalene Perez, looking phenomenal in a rose-hued chiffon gown that floated around her knees.
A hand settled on my shoulder and squeezed, setting my heart racing because it reminded me of the night Cary and I had gone to Gideon’s club. But the figure that rounded me this time was Christopher.
“Hey, Eva.” He took the chair next to mine and set his elbows on his knees, leaning toward me. “Are you having fun? You’re not mingling much.”
“I’m having a great time.” At least I had been. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for coming. My parents are stoked you’re here. Me, too, of course.” His grin made me smile, as did his tie, which had cartoon vinyl records all over it. “Are you hungry? The crab cakes are great. Grab one when the tray comes by.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Let me know if you need anything. And save a dance for me.” He winked, and then hopped up and away.
Ireland took his seat, arranging herself with the practiced grace of a finishing school graduate. Her hair fell in a single length to her waist and her beautiful eyes were direct in a way I could appreciate. She looked worldlier than her seventeen years. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“Where’s Gideon?”
I shrugged at the blunt question. “I’m not sure.”
She nodded sagely. “He’s good at being a loner.”
“Has he always been that way?”
“I guess. He moved out when I was little. Do you love him?”
My breath caught for a second. I released it in a rush and said simply, “Yes.”
“I thought so when I saw that video of you two in Bryant Park.” She bit her lush lower lip. “Is he fun? You know…to hang around with?”
“Oh. Well…” God. Did anyone know Gideon? “I wouldn’t say he’s fun, but he’s never boring.”
The live band began playing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and Cary appeared beside me as if by magic. “Time to make me look good, Ginger.”
“I’ll try my best, Fred.” I smiled at Ireland. “Excuse me a minute.”
“Three minutes, forty seconds,” she corrected, displaying some of her family’s expertise in music.
Cary led me onto the empty dance floor and pulled me into a swift foxtrot. It took me a minute to get into it, because I’d been stiff and tight with misery for days. Then the synergy of longtime partners kicked in and we glided across the floor with sweeping steps.
When the singer’s voice faded with the music, we stopped, breathless. We were pleasantly surprised by applause. Cary gave an elegant bow and I held on to his hand for stability as I dipped into a curtsy.
When I lifted my head and straightened, I found Gideon standing in front of me. Startled, I stumbled back a step. He was seriously underdressed in jeans and an untucked white dress shirt that was open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, but he was so damn fine he still put every other man in attendance to shame.
The tremendous yearning I felt at the sight of him overwhelmed me. Distantly I was aware of the band’s singer pulling Cary away, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Gideon, whose wildly blue eyes burned into mine.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped, scowling.
I recoiled from his harshness. “Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t be here.” He grabbed me by the elbow and started hauling me toward the house. “I don’t want you here.”
If he’d spit in my face, it couldn’t have devastated me more. I yanked my arm free of him and walked briskly toward the house with my head held high, praying I could make it to the privacy of the town car and Clancy’s protective watch before the tears started falling.
Behind me, I heard a come-hither female voice call out Gideon’s name and I sent up a prayer that the woman would stall him long enough for me to get out without further confrontation.
I thought I just might make it when I passed into the cool interior of the house.
“Eva, wait.”
My shoulders hunched at the sound of Gideon’s voice and I refused to look at him. “Get lost. I can show myself out.”
“I’m not done-”
“I am!” I pivoted to face him. “You don’t get to talk to me that way. Who do you think you are? You think I came here for you? That I was hoping I’d see you and you’d throw me a goddamn scrap or bone…some pathetic acknowledgment of my existence? Maybe I’d be able to harass you into a quick, dirty fuck in a corner somewhere in a pitiful effort to win you back?”