“Your father?” Rebekah questioned.
“The highly celebrated plastic surgeon of the rich and famous, Ethan Mills, MD,” Trey said. He waved at a man who could have been Trey’s twin had he been twenty-five years younger and traded his conventional haircut for Trey’s long in the front, short in the back style.
Doctor Mills wrapped a possessive arm around a lovely woman who looked earthy, eccentric, and completely bewildered in her round glasses, peasant garb, and Birkenstocks. She had a smudge of pink paint on her tan cheek, and her waist-length, curly brown hair, which was held out of her face with a green plastic headband, looked completely untamable. She fit in with the black-tie crowd almost as well as Eric would have. Rebekah instantly loved her.
“And that sweetheart with him is the highly underrated mixed media artist, Gwen Mills, also known as my mom.” Gwen must have known someone was talking about her, because her head swiveled in their direction, and her entire face lit up with delight when she noticed her son. Trey’s parents headed in their direction. Isaac tried to hide behind a drapery.
“Did you find someone to talk to?” Dr. Mills asked and extended a hand in Rebekah’s direction.
“Yeah, small world,” Trey said. “This is Rebekah, Sinners’ temporary soundboard engineer. I told you about her. Dave’s little sister.”
Dr. Mills’ expression turned serious. “How’s your brother?”
She smiled at his concern and shook his hand. “Not mobile yet, but working on it. It takes more than a broken neck to keep him down.”
“And I just found out that she’s Eric’s fiancée,” Trey added.
“Check out her new rock.”
Gwen took Rebekah’s free hand in hers and shook it up and down vigorously. “That boy needs a nice girl to look after him. Good for you!”
“And tonight she’s pretending to be Isaac’s girlfriend,” Trey added, “so mum’s the word. Wouldn’t want to make dear Isaac uncomfortable.”
Trey grabbed Isaac by the arm and pulled him out from behind the gauzy drape. Scowling, Isaac shoved him.
“Don’t worry,” Trey said. “I already told them all about you.”
Isaac turned green. “All about me?”
“Well, not that sexy little noise you make when—” Trey bit his lip. “Never mind.”
“It’s not healthy to pretend to be something you’re not,” Dr.
Mills said to Isaac. Being Trey’s father, the guy had to be incredibly open-minded. Or totally clueless.
Isaac sidled toward the drapery again.
Trey’s head turned as he tracked a gorgeous cocktail waitress distributing champagne to guests. “I just wanted to say hey. I’ll leave you two pretend lovebirds alone.” He dashed off without another word and walked directly in front of the waitress. Startled, she almost dropped her tray of drinks as she skidded to a halt. With a twirl, Trey somehow managed to catch the tray in one hand and press the disoriented woman against his length with the other. “Careful,” he said in that low voice that made knees go weak. Rebekah was immune by now, but the waitress sagged against him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted as she gawked at him.
Rebekah rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“That son of yours…” Dr. Mills muttered under his breath.
“Oh sure, he’s my son when he’s chasing skirts,” Mrs. Mills said, “but yours when you need to impress your shallow clients. Your son, the famous electric guitarist.”
“My sons, the famous electric guitarists,” Dr. Mills corrected.
“Your sons, the notorious skirt chasers.”
“They don’t get it from me.”
Dr. Mills chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I stopped chasing skirts after I found the right one.”
Rebekah smiled, hoping she and Eric still shared that kind of affection after thirty years of marriage, and looked over to see how Isaac was taking Trey’s continual indiscretions.
Isaac had vanished. The floor-to-ceiling window behind his favorite drape was opened. Had he honestly snuck outside through the open window? Rebekah sighed and rubbed her forehead to stave off a threatening headache. She really didn’t need this right now. She already wanted to go home. She had enough drama to deal with in her own life, thank you very much.
A shadow crossed Rebekah’s face. “There you are, Rebekah. So good to see you again. Where’d did Isaac run off to?” Isaac’s father asked. The man looked nothing like Isaac. Where Isaac was graceful and handsome, Dr. Crandall was shaped like a barrel and had a protruding forehead demarcated by a wild eyebrow. Yes, eyebrow.
Singular. The man had apparently never been introduced to tweezers. He sniffed his red, bulbous nose (allergies) and swiped a hand over his receding hairline. Isaac definitely took after his mother.
“I think he’s in the restroom,” Rebekah lied.
“As soon as he gets back, tell him to find me so we can make his big announcement.” Something caught his attention behind her.
He smiled, showing yellowed teeth. “Oh good, your parents are here now. I’ll go say hello.”
Her parents? Rebekah’s heart skipped a beat. She cringed and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was her mother in a fuchsia evening gown two sizes too small, and her father in his tweed church suit and unfashionably wide, yellow-and-blue striped tie. What in the world were they doing here? She supposed Isaac was like a son to them. They’d want to hear his big news. She wished Isaac would have told her that he’d invited them.
“Excuse me,” she said to Trey’s parents and climbed out the window behind the drapery in search of her escaped date.
She found Isaac staring at a shrub trimmed into the shape of a rearing horse. She touched his lower back, and he started.
“Your father is looking for you,” she said. “He says it’s time to make the announcement.”
He nodded slightly and bit his trembling lower lip. Her heart went out to him. She knew what heartache felt like. She’d experienced the empty, achy chasm in her chest not too long ago, due to the very man who was feeling it now.
“Trey’s probably being a jerk to set you free, sweetheart. To give you a clean break before you get too attached.”
“I don’t want to be set free.”
She rubbed his back and leaned against his arm. “Let’s go get this over with and then we can leave.”
“What about dinner?”
“I’ll pretend to feel sick.”
“I don’t need to pretend.”
She took his elbow and tugged him toward the house, steering away from the window to enter through the open terrace doors.
“Why didn’t you tell me you invited my parents?”
Isaac’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t. They’re here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s odd.”
When they stepped into the main gathering room, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. Rebekah smiled. Everyone was certainly excited to welcome Isaac into their fold. She was happy for him. She knew how hard he worked.
Dr. Crandall lifted his glass of champagne, and a hush fell over the crowd. “I want to thank you all for coming to my son’s engagement party. It’s about time the boy got hitched.”
Rebekah spun and glared at Isaac, who looked as flabbergasted as she felt. “You told them we were engaged?” she said in harsh whisper.
He shook his head. “No, of course not.”
Rebekah spun to the crowd. “We’re not engaged. We’re just friends.”
“That’s not true!” Rebekah’s mother cried. “They are engaged.
They are.”
“What do you mean you’re not engaged?” Dr. Crandall bellowed.