THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY for Baxter and Adeline was kicked off by cocktails at the lesser ballroom of Mallory Manor before dinner on Friday. Natasha greeted the happily engaged couple at the door and handed over the flowers she’d brought for Adeline. Even if guests had been asked to make charitable donations instead of bringing gifts, she couldn’t come empty-handed.
Natasha had always loved the lesser ballroom. Its floor area opened out onto the expansive patio overlooking the grounds. Something that the grand ballroom didn’t have, since it was on the second floor of the property. People were already outside, enjoying the mild early evening weather. She admired the standing tables added to the room for those who wanted to have a place to set their drinks down. The floral centerpieces were beautiful, made up of white peonies, the future bride’s favorite flower. Natasha sighed. Everything was too beautiful for words.
Supporting an elbow with one hand and holding a glass of ginger ale with the other, Natasha pretended to ignore the fact that she was standing in a room where she and Jackson used to make out.
A lot.
In fact, in her periphery, she spotted the heavy curtains he’d loved to pull her behind.
Every time there was a party at a manor, she and Jackson always found a way to sneak off. Her chest felt tight at the memory of his smile and the way he ran his thumb over her lips before he kissed her. It was a bad idea to come here. She knew the Ghosts of Relationship Past would come back and haunt her the second she stepped into his house. But she had promised to attend. And Natasha liked Baxter. She couldn’t let her heartbreak get in the way of showing her support for his engagement to Adeline. She was happy for them. She really was. They had what she’d once had. Now, if she could only survive the night without breaking down, she’d call it a win.
Plus, her periwinkle silk charmeuse Valentino with beading made her feel pretty, confident—like a girl who wasn’t lost and heartbroken. She loved how the fabric moved when she did—lighter than air. The hem of the full skirt fell a few inches above her knee and the bodice was cinched in at the waist. Her one regret was the new Jimmy Choos on her feet. Breaking them in at a party where lots of standing around was involved was a rookie move on her part. In her defense, they’d looked so sexy in the store that she just had to have them.
“Isn’t this just marvelous?” Nathan bumped his shoulder against hers. He held a pretty green mocktail while grinning like a kid in a candy store.
Distracted from her aching toes, Natasha hugged him for the hundredth time since he’d arrived with Preston the day before. It was so nice to have her twin back.
“Have I told you how much I’ve missed you?”
He counted off with his fingers as he spoke. “Um … when I was packing for this trip. When I was on my way to the airport. While I was settling in on the plane. Shortly after onboard Wi-Fi was activated. When we landed—”
Her laughter cut him off. “I get it. But I really did miss you. Why did you have to move all the way to Colorado?”
In unison, their eyes landed on the tall, built-like-a-Greek-god guy who was laughing at something Caleb had said. Or he might have been laughing at Didi, who stood beside him in the pale pink dress Natasha had helped her pick out for the party.
“I still can’t believe he shaved his head. It’s so sexy,” she said with a sigh.
“Stop drooling over my boyfriend, please. Or hair extensions will come off,” he snapped back. “But I also completely understand where the worship is coming from. He does fill that sports jacket with deliciousness.”
“How does it feel?”
Nathan’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”
“Finally getting to call him your boyfriend.”
“Oh, stop it!”
“Come on. Tell me.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “Some days I wake up and think it’s all a dream. Then he smiles at me, and I know it’s all real.”
As if sensing that Natasha and Nathan were both staring at him, Preston glanced their way. Almost immediately his expression changed from passive to adoring. Those green eyes focused on Nathan like he was the only person there. Like Nathan belonged to no one else. He smiled and turned his attention back to Caleb and Didi. For a moment, Natasha saw someone other than Preston staring back. That was exactly the way Jackson used to look at her. Like she was his whole world. Her feet seemed unsteady all of a sudden, like she’d broken a heel and was about to topple over.
Blinking the image of Jackson away, she steadied herself and focused on what was really important: teasing Nathan.
She poked her twin in the arm repeatedly. “How are you still standing right now?”
“I’m hiding it well, but my knees are Jell-O.” Nathan inhaled sharply. “Isn’t this party just perfect? Everything is within the blue, green, and ivory color scheme that I’m already suspecting are the colors of the wedding. White peonies everywhere. And the food and drinks are impeccable. I didn’t expect any less.”
Her brother’s fledgling party-planning business was gaining a reputation for excellence, especially with Eleanor Grant’s recommendation after he had put together the Society of Dodge Cove Matrons luncheon back in October. Natasha was so proud of him. She envied his ability to know what he wanted and go after it with single-minded determination.
She needed a new dream. Something she could call her own. But as soon as the thought entered her mind and she wanted to tell Nathan about it, her brother spotted the party planner and left Natasha to fend for herself. The biddies descended upon her like sharks scenting blood in the water.
* * *
Needing a break from all the mingling and the heavy-handed questions about her future, Natasha left the lesser ballroom for the powder room nearby. A minute to herself was all she needed. She pushed open the door and entered. The sounds of sniffling reached her immediately.
“Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she neared the young woman she recognized as one of the new debutantes sitting on a divan at the center of the small room with her face in her hands.
“He’s such a jerk,” the girl said, her voice quivering.
Natasha pulled a couple of tissues from the holder by the porcelain sink and handed them over. The debutante took them gratefully and began dabbing at her tearstained face. For a second, Natasha worried for her makeup, but it seemed everything stayed in place, even the mascara on her lashes.
“You’re Stacy, right? Stacy Richmond,” she said. “You just moved here last year?”
Stacy’s eyes grew wide. “You’re the Natasha Parker.”
“I don’t know about ‘the.’” Natasha’s smile wobbled. “Just Natasha is fine. I hope you don’t mind my asking.” She gestured at Stacy’s slightly splotchy complexion. “What happened?”
A new wave of tears gushed from Stacy’s eyes, accompanied by the crumpling of her pretty face. Natasha eased closer and rubbed soothing circles down the other girl’s back.
It took a couple of minutes, but the keening cries ebbed and Stacy was able to speak again. More tissues were involved. Natasha waited patiently.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Stacy said, “He’s cheating on me.”
The moment the word “cheating” left Stacy’s mouth, Natasha went on the defensive. She understood Stacy’s heartbreak. Sisters had to stick together.
“Who?” Natasha racked her brain, but she couldn’t come up with the name of the guy Stacy was with. Her debutante gossip wasn’t up to date since she’d decided to lie low.
“Peyton.”
“McMasters?”
Stacy nodded, seeming like another crying jag was on the way. Finally, a name. Natasha’s mind immediately thought of the many ways to make the jerk pay for making such a sweet girl cry. At a party, no less.
“I went to high school with him,” Natasha said through tight lips. “He used to be on the lacrosse team. How did you find out that he was cheating on you?”
“Someone sent me a picture, and when I confronted him about it, he broke up with me.”
Natasha stood and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Stacy asked, still sniffling.
But Natasha didn’t reply. Instead she went back into the lesser ballroom and snagged a champagne glass from a passing tray. She gathered as much spit as she could in her mouth, the way Caleb taught her when they were kids, and dropped everything into the glass. Then she lifted her head and scanned the crowd for her target.
* * *
Jackson checked his reflection in the mirror one more time, adjusting the tie around his neck. It felt too tight. He loosened the knot and started over. About halfway through, he pulled the tie off and flung it over the back of a nearby chair. Wearing it felt like having a noose around his neck. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and tugged the cuffs out from the ends of the sleeves of his dinner jacket.
It had been a while since he’d had to dress in something other than jeans and a T-shirt. The starch the household staff used when ironing his clothes made his skin itch. Coming home to Natasha had fueled him on the plane ride over, but the second he stepped over the town line he began questioning himself. Was he doing the right thing by coming back? He knew he needed Natasha in his life. But what if she never took him back? What if she moved on?
The last question practically crippled him. He had to see her. But seeing her also meant seeing his family. Sneaking into the house was easy enough because of its size. Yet the second he attended the party, they would all know he was back.
He turned his head left, then right. The sides were starting to grow out. His hair always started darker, then lightened as the strands grew longer. He considered shaving off the top after his shower but decided against it. Might be too severe a look for his first party in town. So he worked a glob of gel into the strands and combed everything back.
He sighed and then gave himself a stern look in the mirror. “You can do this.”
Then he walked out of his room and into the hall. Unfortunately, his confidence wavered the closer he got to the lesser ballroom. And it was a long trip. He had to traverse the grand staircase to the foyer, take a right into the music room, move across the sunroom, and then take a left past the center atrium with its glass dome and hothouse flowers.
The guests he passed stopped and stared. He nodded and smiled, keeping his pace even. The whispering started as soon as he passed. No one even bothered waiting for him to be out of earshot.
“Here we go,” he said under his breath.
Just at the entrance stood Baxter and Adeline, looking like the handsome power couple they were.
Baxter froze in the middle of greeting the Feldsteins. He even had Dr. Feldstein’s hand in his. Adeline noticed the sudden change in Baxter and followed his gaze. Like a pro, she thanked the Feldsteins and gestured for them to enter the ballroom. Then she wrapped her arm around Baxter’s and gave him a squeeze.
Jackson cleared his throat and forced himself to move the five steps it took to be standing in front of the couple. The tips of his fingers tingled. And sweat drenched his pits. Thank God for jackets, he thought. No one had to know how nervous he was.
“Hey, Bax,” he said, not quite making eye contact with his brother, who was twelve years his senior.
“You’re here,” Baxter said, surprise and shock crossing his face one after the other. “When did you get back?”
“Couple hours ago.”
“Welcome home,” Adeline said, warmth in her voice. “We’re so glad you came to the party.”
“I never got the invitation,” Jackson replied. “There must have been some mix-up in the mail since I move a lot. If not RSVP’ing is an issue, I can leave—”
“No!” Baxter said, cutting him off. Then he pulled Jackson into a tight, brotherly embrace. “You’re actually here.”
“Yeah.” Jackson clapped his brother’s back. “Congratulations, dude.”
“Jackie,” his mother said from behind Baxter and Adeline. “You’re home!”
Words died when Jackson’s gaze landed on his father, who stood at his mother’s side. The white on the man’s temples wasn’t there a year ago. Neither were the harsh lines bracketing his lips. Yet his eyes, golden like Jackson’s, remained as cold as ever. Even if he was in his midfifties, he stood tall and proud. Spine straight. Expression unforgiving.
“I see the prodigal son has returned,” Hayden Mallory said, a glass of scotch in one hand.
“Dad,” Jackson said.
“I take it you being here means you’re done with this DJ business?”
All eyes were on Jackson, but his attempts at a response were choked by the closing walls of his throat.
“Dad, please,” Baxter said. “Let’s not do this here.”
“Hayden, why don’t we let Jackson settle in before we start asking him questions,” his mother said. “This is not the time or place.”
“There is never a good time for this kind of thing, Camilla,” his father said. Then he gestured with his glass toward Jackson. “This is what happens when you coddle your son too much. He goes and gets a ridiculous haircut, and runs off doing God knows what, tarnishing the good name of this family. Baxter is a rising star at Parker and Associates and is on track to make partner. After that I have political plans for him. He may even be president one day. Can’t you see that?”
His mother touched the pearls around her neck. In her distress, she opened her mouth but no words came out.
“It’s okay, Mom.” Jackson gave her a sad smile before turning his attention to Adeline and Baxter. “I’m sure you have many more guests to greet, so I’ll excuse myself. Baxter, we’ll catch up later.”
“We’ll do that.” Baxter gave him a subtle nod.
Not making eye contact with anyone for fear of saying something he might regret, Jackson turned on his heel and headed into the ballroom. His father’s words were like a physical blow. They hurt and would definitely leave bruises in the morning. He’d never understood Jackson’s decision to become a DJ, so some pushback was expected. But his disapproval wasn’t welcome, especially when Jackson was struggling with his music. It sucked and it pissed him off. So with his head down, he kept moving, as far away from his father’s judgment as possible.
Not paying attention to where he was going, he bumped into someone crossing his path. There was a splat. A feminine gasp reached his ears as the glass of champagne in her hand spilled all over the front of her dress. Jackson reached out as if to catch her, an apology already on his lips. Then their eyes met and the clear blue that stared back—despite the annoyance in them—took Jackson’s breath away.