morning to tell me his friend was free to meet up around lunchtime on Saturday. It was too late in California to call Mom, so I sent her an e-mail about the benefit party tonight and added a line about meeting a photographer tomorrow to pick her brain.
Vivian wanted me to start getting ready no later than five o’clock, so I stayed close to the house other than picking up the prints I had developed. I never did much with make-up and only knew how to braid my hair, but, whatever put Vivian at ease.
She came into my room when I was almost done blow-drying my hair. “Come with me, Elizabeth.”
“What for?” I set the brush on the bathroom counter. “I’m almost done. Promise”
Vivian smiled. “Just come to my room, please.”
“Okay…” Still in my robe, I followed his mother down the hall.
Vivian’s room looked like a decorator showcase in a magazine, everything perfectly in its place. She walked to a dressing table and indicated I should sit on the stool in front of it. I sat. Then Vivian gathered my hair in her hands and made a twist while I watched in the mirror.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said.
“Indulge me. I never had a daughter’s hair to play with.” Vivian tucked the ends of my hair into the twist and slid a comb in to hold it in place. Then, she reached for a few bobby pins on the table. “There. You can dance all night and that won’t fall out of place.”
Dancing…heh. There were no plans of making a fool of myself in front of a hundred strangers.
She pulled a make-up palette and a few brushes out of a drawer. I started to move out of the way to let her sit down and finish her routine. She placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not done with you, yet, dear.”
“Huh?” I glanced at the make-up. “Oh, I don’t wear that stuff.”
“Trust me, Elizabeth. I promise you’ll only be a lovelier version of yourself.”
I chewed on my lip. Vivian didn’t look like she was budging on this. Sighing, I closed my eyes. She didn’t take long at whatever she did to my face. I felt brushes touch my eyelids, cheeks, and lips for all of five minutes.
“Done.”
“Really?”
“You can open your eyes, dear.”
I turned to the mirror, put on my glasses, and stared at my reflection. Mirror-Beth was me, but better. Vivian had used the barest hint of color, but my eyes were defined and I now had cheekbones. The only noticeable touch, really, was the rose on my lips. I’d never worn lipstick before and the texture felt kinda weird.
“Thank you,” I said finally. Rude of me to stay silent so long.
Vivian smiled at me in the mirror. “You’re very welcome. Go get dressed, now.”
“Okay.” I started to leave, then turned around and hugged her.
“Oh! One more thing.” She went to her dresser and brought back a small box. “A woman is naked without jewelry. And don’t say no.”
I nodded and went back to my room.
Carefully stepping into my dress, I zipped up the back, smoothed the fabric down my body, and checked my reflection in the standing mirror. Satisfied my bra straps weren’t showing, I stepped into the kitten heels that were also in the box and stuffed a few things into the new clutch purse. The last touch was the sapphire earrings and necklace set.
“Elizabeth…”
“Coming!” Three steps down the staircase, I saw Vivian wasn’t alone at the bottom. “Jacob.”
“Bloody hell…” He stared up at me, eyes running over me head-to-toe and back again.
“What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, I always go to this thing. The foundation is in the name of my best friend from boarding school,” he said.
“Oh. Hold on.” I ran back to my room to grab my bag.
Vivian frowned when she saw it. “Elizabeth, isn’t that a bit casual for the evening?”
“Oh, I’m not bringing it in. I want to show Jacob the pictures from his concert later.” I hurried down the stairs.
“You have photos?” he asked, smiling.
“Look at them in the car,” his mother said. She nudged us toward the door like a hen. “We’re going to be late.”
“Yes, Mum.”
The chauffeur had the door open when we left the house.
I couldn’t stop glancing at Jacob in a suit. Merely your basic black suit with a white shirt and black tie, but wow…he was yummy.
We ended up sitting across from his mother, my camera bag between us.
“You mentioned an old friend?” I asked him.
“Uh, yeah. He had cancer. It was the ‘80s and that kind of thing was harder to treat than now. So, his folks set up the charity to fund research.”
“Is he okay now?”
He shook his head. “He passed due to an infection.”
“I’m sorry.”
He smiled and squeezed my hand. “It was a long time ago, love. I normally hate these sorts of parties, but it’s a good cause.”
“And I get to see him look respectable once a year,” his mother teased. They laughed and the mood stayed light.
He didn’t let go of my hand.
We drove out a ways west to an estate with several acres. Behind the ornate black gate stood a house no older than twenty years, by the materials used. My mother would take me on Sunday drives through the rich parts of L.A. to study architecture, and this place would have fit right in. Beautiful, classy, and big, though the landscaping definitely had the English touch I’d gotten to know here.
You had no idea how refreshing it was to see no palm trees.
The car pulled up in front. I whispered a question about leaving the bag there in Jacob’s ear.
“No problem, love.”
Vivian had already gotten out, so it was my turn. Not used to wearing a long dress or heels, I was extra careful about not tripping and landing flat on my face. I glanced up—or knocking my head on the roof. Successfully upright, I stepped aside to let him out.
He took my hand again, lacing his fingers with mine. “Nervous?” he asked quietly.
“Why?”
“Your hand is cold.”
I blushed. “Oh. A little, I guess.”
We moved up the steps. “Don’t be nervous. You look beautiful, and I guarantee you’re smarter than at least half the room.”
“Stop…”
“Only speak the truth, love.” He caught up to his mother.
She gave the butler her invitation. We followed.
“Whoa. If possible, it’s bigger on the inside,” I whispered. Jacob chuckled.
Past the foyer, we heard voices. He led me into a ballroom set up for the banquet with round tables. A live band at one end played old standards. Vivian had already found the table. She set her purse next to her place setting and started to mingle.
“So how does this thing go?” I asked Jacob.
“People arrive, then someone says an introduction, usually a spokesman for the foundation. They start serving food, and the guests put checks in the envelopes on the table. Aside from the donations, it’s mostly an excuse to socialize. Eventually, some get up to dance to the band, or walk in the garden, or leave once they think they’ve been polite. Like Mum said, it’s bloody boring if you’re under fifty.”
“Why don’t you mail the donation in, then?”
He shrugged, and unbuttoned his coat. “Don’t rightly know, anymore. Remind me to do that next year.”
“Deal.” I leaned in to add, “Maybe you’ll be in L.A. next summer.”
He grinned and wrapped one arm around my waist. “Maybe.”
We walked around the room for a little while, his mother waving us over to say hello to this person or that. She was so natural at this, working a room. Impeccably dressed in a white dress and jacket, she had a smile and warm greeting for everyone I met. If she had to act with some of them, I couldn’t tell.
Jacob’s hand rested on my back, a reassuring presence. Crowds were not my thing, and even more so in a group where I felt intimidated. If people closed in around me, I tended to panic and couldn’t breathe.
He had to rescue me at Disneyland once and remembered ever since.
I loved him for looking out for me.
“Don’t know about you, love, but I’m parched,” he said after another exchange of pleasantries.
“Sounds good.” We headed to the open bar.
A chime rung through the room. I was about to ask what it meant when everyone started moving to their seats. Oh.
There was a very nice speech about the necessity of funds to keep research alive and the current chances of a cure, then the waiters started bringing out the first course.
I looked at all the silverware around my plate and gulped. Waiting to see what Jacob did, I took another sip of water. He picked up the outside fork first.
After three courses of food I could barely identify, I hoped the entrée was something normal. Thank God for chicken.
He whispered to me, “Don’t worry, we’ll snag somethin’ good later.”
I giggled. Vivian arched a brow.
“This isn’t so bad,” I whispered back. “Just…”
“Small?”
“Yeah.” We shared a grin, and I almost kissed him in front of everybody. “But dessert can’t be bad. It’s…dessert.”
“Unless it’s coffee flavor.”
My nose wrinkled up. “You would have to say that.”
“Ain’t my fault your taste buds are defective.”
“Eat your chicken.”
He grinned again and squeezed my knee under the table.
Dessert had nuts sprinkled on top—which I didn’t like, either—but once removed, it was chocolate-y goodness. The shell of chocolate hid some kind of berry mousse. Didn’t know how they sealed it in there…
“Bored?” Jacob placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Huh?” I shook my head. “No…I was wondering how they made the chocolate thing.”
He laughed. “You’re adorable.”
My cheeks turned pink. “Adorable is for puppies and stuffed bears.”
“Sweetheart, learn to take a compliment.” He stood and offered his hand. “Dance with me?”
“I don’t dance.” Please don’t make me.
“Beth, it’s merely swaying in time.”
Sighing, I put my napkin on the table, and stood. “No fancy maneuvers.”
He grinned and took my hand. “Scouts honor.”
Instead of joining the other couples, he headed for the door outside.
“Where are you going?”
We stepped onto the patio. He pulled me into his arms. “We can hear the music out here, too.”
I placed my hands on his shoulders. It was nice being a bit removed from all the chatter. The summer night air was perfumed with roses and other flowers I couldn’t identify in the garden. Standing between the house and the open air, with the band playing slow jazz, the atmosphere was a lot more romantic.
Private.
“Better without all those eyes on you?” he asked.
“Mmm-hmm.” I let out a contented sigh and laid my head on his shoulder.
“I hope you and Kit hit it off tomorrow.”
“Kit?” I asked, lifting my head to look up at him.
“The photographer. Did you forget already?”
“No. You didn’t tell me her name.”
“Oh. Anyway, I hope you want to work with her.”
“So I stay,” I translated. So transparent.
He rolled his eyes and hugged me a little closer. “Yeah, I have an agenda. Sue me. I have an interest in keeping my girlfriend in town.”
“Girlfriend?” Ugh, I sounded way too hopeful-needy.
He met my eyes. “Well, yeah. Thought you were the smart one in this relationship.”
My heart started doing cartwheels. “You know what they say about assuming.”
His hands slid up to my neck, cupping my jaw-line. “Then let me be clear: as far as I’m concerned, love, you’re my girl. My squeeze, honey, girlfriend, etcetera. My Bethie.”
He dipped his head and I tilted mine to my right, rising on my toes to kiss him back. One of his hands stayed on my cheek; the other dropped to my low back, pressing our bodies closer. That same fire from all week stirred again, driving me to try crawling inside him. Nothing was close enough. He could kiss me a thousand times and I’d still want more.
It scared me.
“This, um…”
“Not really the place for a snog.” He let out a long breath. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to visit the ladies’ room.”
“Alright. I’ll see if Mum’s ready to go.”