Haze(22)

Tonight, I'm grateful that they've focused all of their attention on Libby Duncan, the Broadway actress, who is thankfully wearing a red, strapless dress from the Arilia collection. Her picture will be splashed across countless papers and websites tomorrow morning and that dress will be sold out within hours. That's the type of publicity that is priceless.

"I had hoped that Caleb would be here to present the check." I glance over to where my brother and his wife are standing, engaged in a lively conversation with the orchestra's conductor. "I took care of it. I'm just glad you're here in time for the performance."

"I've never been to the symphony, Mr. Foster."

I turn toward the female voice. It's Cicely, in a bright yellow dress. I make a mental note to talk to Caleb about offering our employees a stipend that includes free merchandise from each of our boutiques. A visit to Arilia would benefit Cicely and it wouldn't hurt our bottom line if she wore our designs to Liore each day. Cross promoting our own brands is a smart move.

Socializing with employees isn't something I'd normally do but this event is a benefit for an organization that promotes the arts for children. The chair is a close personal friend of my mother's and also the head partner at one of the most prestigious law firms in New York.

From its beginnings, he's been a robust supporter of the Foster Foundation, an organization founded by two of my cousins that provides medical care to individuals who have fallen on difficult times. Attending tonight, with a large check in hand, is a benefit for everyone.

"It's nice to see you, Cicely," I offer as I watch my mother walk towards Caleb.

She grabs hold of my hand, pulling it close to her. "I've never been at an event like this. I'm so honored that you asked me to join you."

My gaze follows the movement of my hand in hers. I jerk it away just as she's about to clasp it to her chest. "It's an important cause. It's vital that Foster Enterprises shows support. I'm glad that you, and the other employees, could make it."

She glances up at me, a wave of disappointment washing over her eyes. "I'm always happy to help the company in any way I can, sir."

I had asked her to attend this benefit, and the charity concert that immediately follows, on the phone, during an afternoon of similar calls to over a dozen employees.

I hadn't considered my choice of words at the time because I assumed that she'd understand that the invitation was offered in relation to her position at Liore. Not once did it cross my mind that she believed that the two of us would be attending this cocktail party before the symphony's performance as anything other than representatives of Foster Enterprises.

"Things are going well at the boutique," she blurts out, I assume, to change the subject. "You haven't come in since that day. I mean that day I found that trash."

It's been almost two weeks since I reviewed that security footage. It had taken all the restraint I possessed not to go back to the boutique after that day. I felt the pull on an almost hourly basis to walk in, under the guise of a short meeting with Cicely, just so I could see Isla.

It was type of temptation that is pure torture. The desire overwhelming, the need undefinable and the drive to listen to her voice, inhale her sweet scent and touch her is potent.

Once Rowan returned I'd delegated everything back to her, reminding her that she, and she alone, is responsible for the day-to-day operations of the Liore division.

She'd fallen back into step, speaking to Cicely about her management skills and spending time at the boutique to streamline their systems. Everything had calmed, even my unexplainable need to see Isla.

I had almost exploded at the boutique that day. My heart had pounded as I watched that footage, holding my breath with the hope that Isla wasn't f*cking someone else. It made no sense. I have no claim to her.

I can't pull her into my world. I won't walk out of it the same. I can't risk that, not even for a woman like Isla.

"The performance is going to start soon, Gabriel." My mother taps my shoulder. "I want to freshen up before we take our seats. I'll find you in the concert hall."

No, she won't. She'll find a cocktail, and then another, and most likely someone more than willing to listen to her retell the story of what she deems her tortured youth back in Belgium. She'll never understand that having to fetch herself a glass of milk occasionally, when the private chef my grandparents employed was busy, is not the same as not having enough food to eat.

"I'll show you the way." I motion towards the doors that lead out of the reception hall and into the lobby of the venue. "I wouldn't want you to get misdirected. No good would come of that."



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CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Isla




"Are you nervous?" I reach up to straighten the lapel of the tuxedo he's wearing. It's the second time I've seen him in it. He looks dashing. I'd told him that the first time and he'd laughed the way he does when he's embarrassed. "You look really nervous, Davis."