Chapter Four

That Friday evening found Tabby letting a valet help her out of the car. She took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and sighed. Early May in the Blue Ridge was the perfect blend of warm days and cool nights. She adjusted the cashmere Valentino wrap, and her throat tightened. Maybe it was the grief or the extra hormones, but she swore it still smelled of Maisie. She hadn’t been able to borrow a dress from her sister’s closet, as the difference in height and build had made it impossible, but she’d needed something. Something to support her, to remind her why she was schmoozing for a good cause this Friday night, rather than curled up on her couch reading pregnancy books and eating kettle corn.

The valet motioned to the waiting carriage, and Tabby slipped him a tip and carefully picked her away across the uneven stone. Once settled, the driver tipped his hat, and the carriage lurched as the beautiful horses matched their step. She knew they were from the Ellis’s stud, probably had seen one or both of them as babies, but tonight thinking about the Ellises or, more specifically, Eli had the same effect as the morning sickness still plaguing her.

At least tonight the only Ellis she would have to deal with was Sam. And Sam was carrying his own set of burdens and troubles. The saying, “It took one to know one,” applied there. It was beyond obvious to Tabby that Sam had secrets. She recognized the distant, concerned look. The weighing of answers and the fake smile. So she doubted Sam would be looking close enough should she falter.

The carriage turned, and the Biltmore home spread out like a masterpiece lit by moonlight. Tonight’s charity event was to raise money for the Healthy Living Mobile Kitchen initiative. Tabby had run a crash course on the movement, the leaders behind it, and who might be there tonight that she would need to visit with. Which was not in her sphere of comfortable. But she wouldn’t fail. She was a Brodie and the head Brodie now, and she would be damned if her family name and legacy was marred because she couldn’t handle herself at a charity function.

Tonight was the first step in her new professional life and her new role. Her sister Maisie had made it look effortless. She’d been born to it. Tabby would conquer it. She never expected to rise to the level Maisie had achieved, but she could fight to hold her own.

And the fight began now. By herself. On her own two feet.

Pulling around the cobblestone courtyard, her door opened, and a gloved hand helped her down. She shook out the folds of her dress, glancing to make sure she was as concealed as could be, given her secret, and made for the entrance. Movement to her left caught her eye, and she shrieked as Eli swept her a disgustingly handsome bow.

“At your service, Miss Brodie.”

Her mouth snapped open then shut. She let herself indulge, taking in his perfectly tailored tux which only highlighted the firm, carefully restrained strength he exhibited. Memories of their night filtered through her haze, and then she realized what a dilemma she faced. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in fantasies. Now was the time to attack, if she had any chance of surviving the night with her secret still hers alone.

“Why are you here?” she snapped, urging him closer and out of the flow of arrivals. “Where’s Sam?”

Eli’s brows drew together. “Wow, I can feel the love. You look amazing, by the way.” He grabbed her hand and tucked it into his arm. She had no choice but to move with him. They nodded at a few people, and Tabby handed her shawl off to the attendant standing inside the grand staircase hall. She accepted her ticket and glanced at Eli’s face, letting her confusion show.

He leaned closer, his breath caressing her ear. I will not react. I will not react. “Sam asked if I could come instead. He had something to handle, and I was available.” He waited until she glanced at him, the movement bringing their lips close enough that her nerves remembered what they felt like. Do not lick your lips. “Besides, I couldn’t miss a chance to dance with you again.”

The moment spun out. It was only the jostling behind them that broke the spell. Tabby flicked out her skirt and said to the floor, “I don’t believe there will be dancing tonight.”

“Pity,” he remarked as they moved through to the winter garden. “I was hoping to have a reprieve from all this.”

The strain in his voice was evident to someone who knew him. Someone who could see the false smile as he nodded. The tight lines bracketing what was usually a carefree mouth.

“Eli, go home. This isn’t your thing. I’m sure Sam will forgive you.”

“Ahh, but I wouldn’t forgive myself for leaving you alone.”

Protectiveness. That was what this was about. She’d known, but a small part of her, the one who remembered their night together—remembered the kiss—thought maybe he just wanted to spend time with her. Unfortunately, it was just another opportunity for him to look too close, figure out what he’d been trying to figure out since he’d arrived home. And another opportunity for her to learn that she could do this. She didn’t need an Ellis to rescue her and support her.

Then again? Maybe if she could manage to act like always, he would drop his suspicions and they could get through the next week or so without him being any wiser of the life growing inside of her.

At least until he was clear across the country. Then she would let him know. Be able to impress upon him that she was fine.

She beamed a smile, letting all the worries and grief run and hide to the compartments she tried to contain them in. Eli took in the change with confusion, and she squeezed his arm. “Lead on, my champion.”

Surrounded by the lush greens and the domed skylight, dark amongst the hanging iron lanterns, the winter garden created a fairytale atmosphere. One she chose to focus on and allow herself to appreciate as they circled the room. Eli shot her several more glances, but she remained calm and unruffled as he steered them through the growing crowd. She could enjoy tonight. Pretend for one evening that having him by her side was normal. Acceptable and not at all the recipe for disaster it could be.

She’d visited the Biltmore several times in her life, but never at night when the house and its surrounding grounds took on a magical aura. Her heels clicked on the marble as they took in the groups of people spread out among fern branches and small table and chair setups.

“Want a drink?” Eli nodded to the waiters circulating with flutes of champagne. “Schmoozing and drinks go hand in hand.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she’d been thinking a similar thing. “No. Not yet.” Not until she could figure out how to get a club soda. “Probably best to see what all there is. Especially since neither of us are exactly pros at this.” The last thing she needed was him questioning her drink choice again. The medicine excuse would only carry her so far.

He winked. “Brodies and Ellises don’t fail, sweetheart. We rise.”

She’d like to believe she would rise. After all, she had never failed at anything in her life. But those had been her choices to aim for. This had not been her choice. Playing to one’s strengths was a benefit in achieving goals. Nothing about tonight and schmoozing leaned toward her strengths.

But if Eli believed in her, she would, too. At least for tonight. Hadn’t she wished for someone to push her the way her father had? Eli would do that.

If she let him.

After a full circuit, noting what rooms were open, they glanced at the silent auction offerings that they would be expected to bid on and made their way to the banquet hall. Stationed near the triple fireplace, currently sending flames of warmth across the cavernous room, Eli hailed a waiter and snagged two flutes of champagne. She smiled as she accepted and looked across at the crowd.

“So how are you holding up?”

She didn’t rush the answer. He wouldn’t take a brush off. “I think your description of numb was accurate. Kind of on auto pilot. But here? Well, I don’t have directions. Finding my footing.” She kicked out her leg. “In heels, no less.”

A quick glance of her body and the fireplace didn’t need to do its job anymore. “I think you’re doing great, and I have no doubt you’ll lead the company in your own way but one just as strong and healthy as your dad and Maisie did.”

Tabby blinked back tears. This man had so much faith in her. And in that moment, so much of the unfairness of life smacked her in the heart. She’d lost her parents and her sister. Had been thrust into a role she’d never wanted nor planned to have. And most of all, she was constantly reminded of the fact that Eli was everything she could ever hope to find in a man except the fact that he wasn’t available. Not in the literal sense but in the physical and emotional one.

It would be so easy to say the words that would make him hers. Not in heart and soul, but a way to have his presence a constant in her life. To have him pushing her and standing by her side as the unknowns of a personal and professional life faced her.

But she would do everything in the next few weeks to ensure he didn’t discover just how much she needed him and his confidence and support in her life.

A couple approached them, and Tabby smiled, extending her hand.

“Tabitha, isn’t it? We were so sorry to hear about your father and sister. Maisie was a lovely woman and so poised, and Colin always had such a booming laugh and a great story to tell.”

A lump the size of Rhode Island lodged itself in her throat. She’d been prepared to schmooze. Prepared to illuminate the company and its selectness to the crème of Asheville society. She hadn’t been prepared to discuss her loss or for the genuine sympathy in this couple’s eyes.

Eli rubbed the small of her back, anchoring her. He stuck out his hand. “Elijah Ellis.”

“Ahh, one of the Ellis boys.” The man’s eyes widened as he shook Eli’s hand, but the woman’s gaze grew appraising. Tabby could only imagine what little snippet she would spread through Asheville society tomorrow. But it didn’t matter if it kept a deeper inspection of the two of them from happening.

Eli managed to steer the conversation so nothing more of Maisie or the deaths was mentioned. Tabby owed him more than she cared to admit. He’d known instinctively what to do. He’d always known.

What if he hadn’t been there? This was supposed to be her moment to prove she could handle the weight of a company thrust on her shoulders. And she hadn’t lasted one exchange. She would have probably ran away in tears or stood there with her mouth opening and closing and no words coming out or babbled some incoherent thought about hops and barley.

How could she stand on her own two feet when his two feet were perfectly ready and able to lift hers up and carry her?

As they walked away, she squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I hadn’t expected that.”

His chocolate eyes softened. “I’ve got your back.”

Too heavy. Too much. She managed a chuckle. “Guess I’m lucky you’re here and not freezing in a Yurt in Siberia.”

He smiled, but there was a stiffness invested in the movement. He tugged at his bowtie and rolled his neck. Time for her to have his back.

“Go. Get outside for a minute. Ground yourself. I’ll be fine, and you look like you could use a breather.”

He opened his mouth to deny it. She cocked her head and dared him to do so.

“Fine. Just give me five minutes. You staying here?”

“No, I think I’ll move. Less likely to be attacked. But I promise you’ll be able to spot me. Just look for the awkward, grieving one.”

He gave her one more head-to-toe glance, and she prayed he accepted the fine persona she tried to project. With a firm nod and quick buss to the cheek, he made his way down the long room.

She deposited her untouched champagne and went in search of a club soda. Downing it faster than was probably decorous, she wandered into the salon off the breakfast nook, willing her heart to stop wanting things it couldn’t have. Tears sprung up as she thought of her sister and the save Eli had provided. God, by the time the baby came, she would be a dried-up cesspool at the rate she was expelling them.

“How are you holding up?”

Tabby turned to see Dr. Kitt striding toward her. He and he alone understood the depth of everything she faced at the moment. She welcomed his open arms and strong support, even while glancing around. Dr. Kitt was the last person she needed Eli to see her talking with.

“I’m fabulous, can’t you see?”

He smiled that crooked grin that had women dropping like flies and their ovaries exploding. Funny, considering his line of work as the East Coast’s top fertility doctor. Sadly, his golden boy Adonis looks did nothing for her or her ovaries. Well, except take care of them and the life growing inside.

“I see a beautiful woman barely holding on,” Dr. Kitt said, squeezing her hands.

“I think the doctor needs a new prescription.” She laughed, although his words were bull’s-eye perfect.

“You can lose it, Tabby. It’s okay. I know you’re concerned, but a good cry or twelve isn’t going to harm the baby.”

She darted her gaze around again, but only one other couple stood on the opposite side of the room, and Dr. Kitt was close enough to her no one might have heard.

He cocked his head. “You still haven’t told them?”

Tabby straightened her spine. “I refuse to give them hope until I know things are as safe as they can be for the moment.”

His eyes softened. “It’s not how this was supposed to play out, Tabby. You can lean on your family. Use them. It’s a lot under normal circumstances, but this? This isn’t anything anyone even remotely thought would happen. Your role was never meant to be permanent, but this baby is a gift.”

“Exactly. All the more reason to be reassured at my appointment. It’s why I’m paying you the big bucks.” She punched his tuxedo-clad arm, her knuckles meeting a rather well-defined bicep.

He took hold of both her hands. “Having support isn’t a sign of weakness.”

She smiled. She knew all too well what her weakness was, and it wasn’t support, but rather the man who would hand it to her on a silver platter, complete with overbearing dictates and life-resenting changes in the process.

…

Eli cursed under his breath as he paced the trees lining the Italian Garden. He’d known tonight would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected the rise of his insecurities.

One of the Ellis boys.

The man’s tone had rubbed his skin raw. They weren’t interchangeable. Each of the Ellis siblings were different and unique. And yet there were five of them; why not lump them all together?

Eli shook his head. No, lumping them together was lazy. They each had a role, a place, and that was what people should know about them.

Ugh, why am I here?

For Tabby.

Sam’s plea had come at a vulnerable time, after returning from the graves. He’d wanted to help his siblings while home, and he certainly didn’t want to leave Tabby to the wolves in the exact type of setting she was not prepared for. Because, despite his issues, it was much worse for her, as evidenced by the interaction with the older couple tonight. He’d felt the change in her. The breakdown she teetered on. Interposing himself had been a no-brainer.

But at what cost to him?

He rubbed the back of his neck and made a note to look for something stronger than champagne when he returned. A couple more circuits and he took a deep breath, confident in his ability to get back in there with Tabby.

His phone whistled. Pulling it from inside his coat pocket, he recognized the magazine number.

“Elijah Ellis.”

“Eli, this is Sara Harris. Duane backed out of his assignment for health reasons, and I was hoping you could step in. I’m sending an email with the details and all Duane’s research…”

The editor continued to rattle on, making her pitch. He stood staring at the estate, lit up like some magical fairytale castle.

“…and it involves rare, and, well, who better to do rare than you…”

Tabby was in there. Waiting on him and dealing with unknown troubles. His family was home dealing with upheaval and grief. Still, he wasn’t staying. Couldn’t stay. He’d made his own life. He had a home. Well, he rented a rather sparsely furnished apartment where maybe four times a year he spent more than a week. Still, it suited his purposes. His career wasn’t in Gatlinburg.

Sara had taken a breath, and he opened his mouth to say of course when hesitation hit him square in the jaw. He snapped his mouth shut. He’d been home less than a week. Barely spent any time with either his family or Tabby, and both needed him for a little while longer, at the very least. So he did something he couldn’t recall ever doing in all the years of his career. He told the editor no.

“I’m sorry. Did you say no?”

“It’s impossible right now. I’m sure you’ve heard about the deaths in my family. I just got home and need to deal with some personal issues. Thank you for the opportunity, though. I know any of the photographers who take over will do a phenomenal job for you.”

She questioned him a few more times before Eli managed to get off. Entering back through the main doors, Eli replayed the conversation and his response and wasn’t regretting his decision. His gut had saved him more times than he could count, and his gut agreed with the refusal.

Why? He had no idea, and now wasn’t the time to figure it out. Now was the time to put on his corporate pants, even if they didn’t fit, and stand up for his family and for Tabby.

Pausing in the foyer, he buttoned his tux jacket and scanned the far-too-dense crowd for a glimpse of coal black hair. Startling a servant, probably some drama student from the local college, he swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray and drained half in one gulp. Gone were his issues with tonight, replaced with a panic for Tabby. What if she’d faltered? What if the weight was too much? He knew she could do anything, carry off anything, but maybe she no longer believed that. Maybe the grief and whatever sickness she was dealing with had broken her confidence.

His strides increased as he wove through the rooms. Eli suffered through more stops and starts than a red-light-green-light game he’d played as a kid. Not only was he known through his family’s business, but his career in photography had garnered its own set of admirers, and, of course, everyone had sympathy for his loss.

He handled each encounter with the charm born of all Ellises, as he would be damned if his internal struggle with his place in Ellis Industries would ever mar the family name. Especially now.

Eli exited the far end of the banquet hall into the breakfast room. Snagging an avocado puff, he popped it into his mouth and looked back out toward the winter garden. A glance to his right met the back of his quarry. Instant recognition of womanly curves he’d been pressed up against only a few days ago lit a fire, even as he realized she wasn’t alone. A young gentleman bussed both cheeks and said, “I’ll see you Thursday.”

“Thursday, Dr. Kitt,” Tabby repeated, a bit breathless.

Every muscle locked as anger surged through his veins. He’d been right. The issue between them. The awkwardness. It was all due to another man.

Thinking straight hadn’t always been his strong point, and emotionally fueled action seemed the right tactic at this moment. Here he’d been worried about her health and her grief, and she had some uptight, too-damn-attractive-for-his-own-good boy ready to salivate at her feet. A boy was the last thing Tabby needed right now. A boy couldn’t possibly understand what she was dealing with. Her concerns about leading a company in the absence of her father and sister. A boy that couldn’t understand that it was the last thing she’d ever wanted.

Eli walked up behind Tabby and breathed into her ear, “He’s not your type.”

She whirled around, fear lodged in the depths of her blue eyes. Tabby glanced at the retreating back of her male visitor, and Eli growled.

“Are you serious about him?”

Tabby met his gaze, the fear sliding into anger. She crossed her arms, the move drawing Eli’s eyes to her body and leaving his focus torn between anger and lust. He’d purposely avoided really looking at her tonight, instead focusing on being her friend. At this moment, all he could do was look and see the woman. She’d worn a gown of pale pink that hugged her upper half in detailed flowers only to flow from the waist in a wispy fabric that reminded him of the waterfalls of Venezuela. The color warmed her skin, and his body and lust beat anger into submission.

“If I am serious about him, it isn’t any of your business.”

“Really?” Eli drawled. “I didn’t take you for the type to kiss multiple men in the same week.”

She sucked in a breath and immediately swayed. Eli grabbed both arms, the tremors in Tabby’s body tingling his fingers. He pulled her close. “I have you. Let’s get you seated.” He maneuvered her over to a small straight-back chair and helped her sit. Snagging a flute of champagne off a tray, he handed it over to her trembling fingers. She stared at the glass and then him.

“Thank you. I think I just got overheated. I’m fine now.”

“Dammit, Tabby, you’re not fine. When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”