ETHAN LED THE charge out of the ballroom and toward the hotel elevators, with Fernando and Holly racing behind him to keep up. When they reached the bronze elevator bank Ethan rapped the call button incessantly until one set of doors opened. Pressing for the twenty-sixth floor as soon as he’d stepped in, he backed against the gilded and mirrored wall of the elevator car.
His neck muscles pulsed. As the elevator ascended he kept his eyes peeled on the digital read-out of the floor numbers.
One, two, seven, twelve...
“What happened?” He forced the question out of a tight throat.
“Louise had been resting on the sofa in the suite’s living room,” Fernando reported. “She stood up and said she was going to make a phone call. Then, as she started to walk, she tripped on the coffee table and fell face-forward.”
“Why did you not help her get up from the sofa in the first place?” Ethan seethed.
“She didn’t tell me she was going to stand up. She just did it. I rushed to her, but it was too late.”
Ethan’s jaw ground as he fought to keep himself together. This incompetent idiot should have never been allowed to care for Aunt Louise. She was going to need full-time nurses. He’d arrange that immediately.
The read-out reached twenty-three, twenty-four...
On the twenty-sixth floor, Ethan pushed through the elevator doors before they had fully opened. Holly and Fernando followed. At the room’s door, he snatched the key card from Fernando’s hand.
Ethan rushed into the suite. “Aunt Louise?”
Louise sat on the floor with her back against the sofa. Angry scrapes had left red stripes across her right cheek and her knees. She massaged her wrist.
“I’m all right, dear,” she assured him in a fairly steady voice. “Don’t embarrass me any more than I’ve already embarrassed myself.”
“There is no reason to be embarrassed,” Ethan said, trying to soothe her. These incidences must be so humiliating for her. She’d always been such an able woman.
“Falls happen,” Fernando chimed in. “We’ve been here before, Louise. You’ll be fine.”
Ethan fired a piercing glower at Fernando. He didn’t need to try to make light of the situation.
“Oh, goodness. Holly!” Louise spotted Holly standing back from them. She managed a dry smile. “Somehow I’ve become an old woman.”
“Thank goodness you weren’t hurt worse.” Holly nodded her respect.
“At this point we do not know if or how much she is injured,” Ethan snapped, angry with everyone. “She needs to be examined.”
Right on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. Ethan let in the hotel manager, who confirmed that they were expecting paramedics. Two emergency medical technicians filed in.
One checked Louise’s vital signs, such as her blood pressure and heart-rate. He shone a small light into her eyes. Another technician asked questions about her medical history and what had happened.
While that was going on Ethan noticed Fernando pouring himself a cocktail. Holly had noticed too.
He and Holly raised eyebrows at each other. This was hardly a time for drinks.
Ethan clenched his fists and mashed his lips tightly. He stood silently.
Fernando had accused Ethan at dinner the other night of finding himself a wife just so that Louise would retire. Fernando had said he had no intention of spending his life on boring Barbados, as he characterized it, with Louise.
So, following that logic, Fernando should be doing everything he could to try to keep Louise as healthy as possible. Yet he obviously didn’t bother with trivial matters, such as protecting her from falling. And now—with paramedics in the room, no less—he clearly thought it was cocktail hour.
“There don’t appear to be any broken bones,” one of the technicians informed them. “But, given her overall medical condition, we’re going to transport her to the hospital for a more complete evaluation.”
Ethan brought a hand over his mouth, overcome with worry. This woman had shown him so much love—had gone above and beyond the call of duty for him his entire life. Maybe his caring so much for his aunt was a sign. That he was capable of loyalty. Of devotion.
He refused his inclination to look over to Holly.
The technician issued instructions into his phone.
Fernando walked over to pat Louise gently on the shoulder in between sips of his drink.
“Can we take her down in a private elevator?” Ethan asked the manager, who waited quietly beside the door. “And out through a private garage? Many of our shareholders are staying here at the hotel, and we would like to keep this matter to ourselves.”
“Of course, Mr. Benton.”
Fernando settled himself closer to where Ethan was standing. “Clever...” he said under his breath. “Always thinking about image. I’ve got a little surprise for you with regards to that.”
Ethan whipped his head to look into Fernando’s eyes. “What on earth are you talking about at a time like this?” he demanded.
Two more paramedics came through the door with a stretcher.
Louise protested, “Oh, please, gentlemen—a wheelchair would do.”
“It’s for your protection, ma’am.”
“I will ride in the ambulance with Louise,” Ethan declared.
“No. I will,” Fernando countered.
“Family only, please,” one of the technicians said over his shoulder as he secured Louise onto the stretcher.
“I’m her husband.”
“I am coming as well,” Ethan insisted.
To the outside eye they must look like an odd sort of family. Elderly Aunt Louise. Nephew Ethan, who was probably being mistaken for her son, and Holly for his wife. Then Fernando, with his tanning salon skin and over-styled hair, who looked exactly the part of a cougar’s husband.
The hotel manager headed the pack as the technicians began wheeling the stretcher out of the suite. Fernando and Ethan followed closely behind.
Ethan turned his head back to Holly. “You go home to the apartment.”
“I’d like to come to the hospital, too.”
Irritated at even having to discuss this further, Ethan repeated his order. “There is no need for you to be at the hospital. Go back to the apartment.”
The hotel manager led them to a private elevator and swiped her access card.
Ethan dashed a text into his phone.
“I could take a taxi and meet you there,” Holly pleaded. “I want to be there for you and—”
He cut her off. “I have just instructed Leonard to pick you up in front of the hotel.”
This was a private matter that Holly had no place in, despite appearances. While he had certainly become accustomed to having her around, she was still only an employee, and Louise’s health was a personal thing. Ethan did not want Holly to overhear any discussions with doctors, or any information regarding a prognosis for his aunt. What Holly had just witnessed in the suite was beyond what his fiancée-for-hire should be privy to.
Ethan feared that he was starting to lose his better judgment around Holly. It was becoming so easy, so natural to let her into his life. If he allowed himself to, he might long for her support at the hospital. He knew it would be hours of waiting and worrying while Aunt Louise was examined.
He had nothing to say to Fernando. Wouldn’t sitting with Holly in the waiting area, sharing a paper cup full of coffee, huddled together, be a comfort?
No! Once again, he reminded himself of Holly’s place in this dynamic. Despite how they might appear, to the paramedics or anyone else, Holly was not part of this family.
Not. Family.
He pointed down the hall toward the public elevator they had ridden up to the suite. “Holly, please return to ground floor and retrieve my things from the ballroom. Thank you.”
Louise was wheeled into the private elevator, and everyone but Holly got in.
Just as the doors were closing Ethan saw in Holly’s eyes that he’d upset her by not allowing her to come along. But this was no time to focus on her. She should know and respect that.
“I will phone you as soon as I hear anything, all right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
* * *
So much for being part of the family.
Holly made it through the car ride home from the hotel, and it wasn’t until she opened the door to the dark, empty apartment that tears spilled down her face.
Louise’s condition was heartbreaking, and Holly hoped that she wasn’t seriously injured after the tumble she’d taken. That she would be able to make it to the gala tomorrow night.
Ethan and Louise had such a finely tuned strategy to keep the extent of her illness hidden from the public. Holly admired their efforts. And thankfully the paramedics were only taking Louise to the hospital as a precaution.
She flipped on the lights. Slung her jacket on the coat rack. Kicked off her boots. And then she allowed in some self-pity. If she ever needed a reminder that this engagement was all a front, she had her proof. She was not, and nor would she ever be, a member of this clan.
Once they’d arrived at Louise’s hotel suite Ethan had barely acknowledged her presence. Not that she would have expected him to pay lots of attention to her, but she had to admit she was surprised at how completely he had shut her out.
Holly had offered to go along to the hospital to be there for Louise and for Ethan—as a friend who rallied round when maybe a hand to hold would be welcome. But Ethan would have none of it, and hadn’t been able to get her out of the picture swiftly enough.
Everything had moved so fast this week. How had she got here? To feeling sorry for herself because she was left behind? How had she come to care so much for these people so quickly? She’d become so involved in Ethan’s life she could hardly remember a time when she hadn’t been. Had she forgotten who she was?
Holly Motta was an artist who had spent four long years married to the wrong man.
Ricky hadn’t made it easy for her to leave. Even after she’d moved out of the last place they’d been living he’d shown up at her work and insisted on talking to her. Or he’d followed her car and confronted her at a supermarket or in a bank parking lot. It had got to the point that she’d had to change her phone number. Month after month he had refused to sign the legal documents divorcing them, leaving her hanging in limbo. Finally he’d given up and cut her loose.
It had taken her two years to feel truly unshackled from the demanding and possessive hold Ricky had on her. Now she was determined to move forward with her life. This prospect with Ethan had presented itself and she’d snatched it. The job, this apartment, the clothes...the promise of a glamorous escapade with an exciting man.
Nothing wrong with any of that. Life was throwing her a bone, for once. And she was taking it. Life on life’s terms.
The problem was the illusion was so convincing that she was starting to buy it.
Twenty-nine years of hurt overtook her. She wasn’t tough, like New York. She couldn’t endure another defeat. Withstand another wound. Her heart functioned in broken pieces that were only taped together and could collapse at any minute. Maybe this masquerade was too dangerous. She didn’t think she had it in her to bounce back from anguish yet again.
Restless, she went to the kitchen. Drank a full glass of water in one gulp. It had been hours since she’d eaten. A few slices of cheese and bread went down easily as she munched them standing up.
She hoped Ethan would get a bite to eat at the hospital. He’d be hungry, too. Ugh! She needed to stop caring about things like whether or not he had eaten. Had to break her habit of always looking after people.
She paced back to the living room. Judged the paintings she had been working on in the little studio area she had created by the window. They were a good start to the ideas she had in her head. A drawing pad perched on the easel. She mindlessly picked up a stick of charcoal and began to put it to paper.
After a few minutes she cranked up some funky music and swung her hips from left to right to the beat. A little sketching, a little boogie-woogie—that was always how she got through everything in her life.
Curved lines on the page. A man’s jaw. Not square and chiseled like Ethan’s. That buzz-cut hair. The thick swash of eyelashes.
A smile crossed her lips.
Small ears. The rounded shoulders. The only person she could count on. Her brother.
Yet she hadn’t been honest with Vince about the events of the past few days. She had called him the first night she was here, when the mix-up with the apartment had started everything that had come since. She’d hinted that something had come her way. Vince had reminded her that it was her time now. That she should take hold of any prospect life threw at her.
They’d had so little in the way of support as kids. They’d always had to be each other’s cheering section.
Straight up or fall down... Holly mouthed their childhood chant.
They had been texting every day, as they always did. She’d told him that New York was amazing. That it was mostly raining. But she hadn’t told him about this weird arrangement she’d agreed to. Which had become a wild rollercoaster of feeling so right and then, in the next moment, feeling so wrong.
She hadn’t even told Vince about meeting Ethan. And she hadn’t told Ethan about her rat ex-husband, Ricky. It wasn’t like her to keep secrets. But she didn’t know where anything stood anymore. She didn’t want to make things more complicated than they already were. Even if nothing were to work out for her here in New York, Holly needed to make sure that Ethan kept his word about helping Vince.
Her brother was a good man. She was so proud of him. Every day she hoped and prayed for a bright future for him. That separately, yet bound in spirit, they’d rise up like phoenixes from the ashes of their childhood.
She thumbed her phone.
“Holz?” Vince used his nickname for his sister.
“Vinz!” Holly sandwiched the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she finished drawing her brother’s arm. Their builds were so different... It was only in the eyes of their mother where the resemblance was undeniable.
“How’s New York treating you?”
“Oh... I kinda got involved in something I thought was one thing but now it seems like it’s another.”
As in tonight. Which had been reinforcement of the fact that Ethan would never regard her as anything more than a hired hand. That the feelings she’d started to have for him could only lead to misfortune.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know... I met a man.”
“Well, sis, it’s about time you met a man. You haven’t dated anyone since you left the Rat.”
“I know. But this might not be the right thing.”
Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that the man she was talking about was Ethan Benton. The billionaire vice president, soon to be CEO, of the company Vince worked for.
“So you’ll move on to something else. We’ve done that enough times in our life, haven’t we?”
“That we have, bro.”
How often had their mother made promises? Then broken them.
“Straight up or fall down!” they recited in unison.
“Get some sleep, Holz. You sound tired.”
Holly continued sketching after the call. Line after line, listening to song after song. More glasses of water downed in one go.
Finally she sprawled across the sofa and pondered the painting of Ethan on the wall. His mouth... That urgent mouth that had covered hers a few midnights ago atop the Empire State Building. He had kissed her lips. Along her throat. Behind her ear. Her eyelids.
They fluttered with the memory.
The phone woke her up.
“Hello?” Her voice was gravelly.
“Ethan, here.”
“How’s Louise?’
“Stable. She was not badly injured by the fall.”
“Thank heavens.”
Holly’s eyes didn’t want to open fully. The sound of his voice caressed her, but didn’t erase the sting of him banning her from the hospital yesterday. Despite wishing he’d make mention of it, she knew he wouldn’t.
She had to carry on forward. “What time is it?”
“Eight in the morning.”
Tonight was the gala. Her end of the bargain was due.
“Are you still at the hospital?”
“No, I came back to one of the hotel suites to get some sleep. I did not want to wake you by coming in during the middle of the night.”
Holly stroked the leather of the sofa where Ethan had been sleeping the past few nights. If he had come home he’d have found her conked out on it after she simply hadn’t been able to stand at the easel any longer.
She’d done eight different renderings of Vince. Must have been some sort of homesickness, she mused to herself now, in the gray haze of the cloudy morning.
She stretched her neck. “What happens now?”
“Aunt Louise will be discharged in a couple of hours. Then I will send Leonard to pick you up. He will help you manage my tuxedo and your gown and whatever else you need. We can get dressed in this suite. I have ordered food. And a makeup artist and hairstylist are coming.”
“Okay.”
Ethan had everything so organized it made her head spin. How did he keep himself together? She needed a shower and coffee.
“Be prepared for a busy day and night,” he continued. “I hope you are ready, my fiancée. Because it is showtime.”
* * *
When the makeup and hair people departed the hotel suite, Holly and Ethan were finally alone for the first time all afternoon.
The last few hours had flown by. People from Benton Worldwide and from their public relations firm had come and gone from the lavish suite that had a bedroom, living room and dining table in addition to the spacious dressing area where they were now.
All of the suite’s Zen-like furnishings and décor were made from precious woods and fine fabrics, while floor-to-ceiling windows provided panoramic views of the Manhattan skyline, where the gloomy and rain-drenched day had turned to dusk.
It had been a whirlwind of introductions as Ethan had presented Holly, although of course he hadn’t yet revealed their engagement. Members of the shareholders’ board of directors had been in to confer with Ethan. And Holly had finally met Ethan’s trusted assistant, Nathan—a young man wielding four electronic devices in his two hands.
A sandwich buffet and barista bar had kept everyone fortified. Then the glam squad had arrived to give Ethan a haircut and work their magic on Holly, before filing out just now to do the same for Louise.
In the first quiet moment since she had arrived, Holly inspected herself in the mirror. She wore a white satin robe, but had already put on her jewelry and heels.
Shimmery eye makeup and soft pink lipstick gave her skin a luminous glow. The style wizards had managed to remove every speck of paint from her cuticles, so that a pearly pink manicure could complement the gown. Her hair was magically doubled in volume, thanks to the expert blow-dry she’d just received.
They had experimented with hairstyles, but gave Ethan veto power. Every time she’d asked his opinion of one of the looks they’d tried he had taken a long gander at her. He’d stopped to scratch his chin, or shot her a wink or half a smile. The way he’d studied every inch of her had been almost obscenely exciting.
And seemingly had had little to do with her hairstyle. Because each time he had decreed that he liked her hair better down.
Now she observed Ethan’s reflection behind her in the mirror. He was perched on a stool in the dressing area, reading over some papers, already in tuxedo pants and dress shoes. His stiff white shirt was on, but had not yet been buttoned. She imagined her fingers tracing down the center of his bare, lean chest.
This was really happening. She was in this castle of a hotel, about to be crowned as princess and then ride off on a majestic horse with this regal prince.
Of course in real life at the end of the night they’d shake hands on a con well played. But what the heck? She might as well enjoy it.
“Louise was okay when you talked to her a little while ago?”
“Under the circumstances.” Ethan didn’t look up from his work.
“I have an idea for tonight that might make it easier on her,” Holly said as she tightened one of her earrings in front of the mirror.
“Oh?”
“You were telling me that when it’s time for her to give her CEO speech you’ll escort her from the table up the stairs to the stage?”
“Yes.”
“I was thinking it may be difficult for her to walk up the stairs after her fall. And it won’t help to have a thousand people staring at her.”
“What is the alternative?”
“I noticed that there is a side entrance to the stage from the waiters’ station. While the video montage is playing, and it’s dark in the ballroom, we could help Louise get away from the table and up to the stage that way. With no one watching her. Then, when she’s introduced, all she has to do is come out from the side of the stage and go to the podium.”
Holly followed Ethan’s reflection in the mirror as he walked toward her. He came up behind her and circled his arms around her shoulders. He hugged her so authentically, so affectionately, she melted.
“Thank you for thinking of that,” he said softly into her ear. “Thank you for thinking about it at all. My, my.... You have already gone far beyond what I expected of you. Please accept my gratitude.”
She wanted to tell him how horribly it had hurt when he hadn’t let her go to the hospital yesterday. How much she’d wanted to be part of his family, and not just what her obligations required. How she longed to be there for him in good times and in bad.
She still had so much of her heart left to share. Nothing in her past had squelched that out of her.
But she’d never get to give that heart to him.
Even though she was now positive that he was the only man to whom she ever could.
Fearing she might cry, and tarnish her stellar makeup job, she flicked an internal switch and squirmed away from him.
“Can you help me into my gown? It weighs about ten pounds!”
Ethan went to back to the stool he had been sitting on and patted his tablet for music. A smooth male voice sang a romantic song.
Not taking his eyes off her, he drank a sip from his water bottle and then recapped it. “I would love to help you into your dress.”
She raced over and punched into his tablet the upbeat music that she favored.
Ethan’s grin swept across his lips.
Holly couldn’t resist sashaying her hips to the rhythm as she turned and headed to the closet where her gown hung. She was sure she heard him gasp when she let her robe fall to the floor to reveal the skimpy undergarments underneath.
And so the pretend soon-to-be-married couple helped each other get dressed for the gala.
“Careful with the base of the zipper—it’s delicate.”
“Blast! Do this right cufflink for me. I am no good at all with my left hand.”
“I hope this eye makeup doesn’t look too dark in the photos.”
“I do not know how women can dance in those heels. I am booking you a foot massage for tomorrow.”
“Is my hair perfect?”
“Shoulders back.”
“How do I look?”
“How do I look?”
The supposed future Mr. and Mrs. Ethan Benton exited the suite preened, perfumed and polished to perfection.
Just as they reached the entrance to the ballroom Ethan remembered he had the engagement ring in his pocket. He skimmed it onto Holly’s finger.
Yet again.
They entered the gala to a cacophony of guests, cameras and lights befitting a royal wedding.