“Yes, please,” Keely said.
“Be right back.”
Keely pulled out the chair and opened the file to begin reviewing the payroll documents that she knew by heart. It wasn’t just that she wanted to help Darlene or to keep busy; she was glad to have something to focus on because she was spending way too much time dwelling on Lex.
She’d fallen in love with him. Bad enough she was sleeping with him but, no, she’d gone for the big kahuna. What in God’s name was she thinking of? She’d fallen in love with a man who had no known address. Whose places of work generally featured AK-47s and shoulder-mounted missile launchers. Who was in town only to take care of his mother’s legal problems and who evinced every desire to leave immediately thereafter.
And despite all that, despite her better judgment, she’d gotten hung up on him. Not just hung up. In love. The big “L.”
“Great, Stafford. Brilliant,” she muttered. Fall in love with a guy who was never around, who spent his time on assignment dodging bullets. Hadn’t the fiasco with Bradley taught her anything? Hadn’t she learned better than to get herself tangled up with another Alexander?
And yet being with Lex felt so right.
Like she knew anything about it, she thought, punching in numbers bad temperedly. She’d been sure it was love with Bradley, too, solidly, rock-hard sure of it, and she’d been wrong. Who was to say this was any different? Maybe she just confused lust with love. Except that it had never been lust with Bradley, but something less, and it wasn’t just lust with Lex, but something much more.
Or was it? Once the situation was corrected, once they were no longer on a desperate search for vindication, would that strange link between them still exist? Or would they just be two people who had scratched a momentary itch with one another?
Keely sighed and picked up the coffee Darlene had left on the desk. Lydia would probably tell her to go with it. Keely wasn’t sure she had a choice. It wasn’t smart, it probably wasn’t healthy. It simply was. She loved him and she couldn’t just stop because she wanted to. Yes, she was setting herself up to get hurt, without a doubt, because he was leaving. Without a doubt.
And all she could really do was enjoy the time they had.
Keely stabbed viciously at the enter key and the printer began to hum.
“You got home late last night,” Olivia observed at the breakfast table, stirring her tea.
Lex glanced over. “It’s true.” Not by his choice. All things considered, he’d have preferred to spend the night with Keely, to wake with her in the morning. But she’d wanted to get home and there was little he could do but respect that. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to face a lot of questions about their involvement. Given the Bradley connection, it would raise more than a few eyebrows.
In the case of Olivia, it would more likely raise hell.
So maybe discretion was the ticket for now but he wasn’t crazy about it. He’d given up trying to live by other people’s rules and standards the day he’d walked away from Chilton. Since then, he’d taken his lumps for various interesting screw-ups but he’d kept his promise to himself to be what he was and who he was.
An ongoing struggle since he’d returned.
“Your father’s tuxedo came back from the tailor’s yesterday.” Olivia spooned up some of her boiled egg. “Be sure to try it on as early as possible to make sure the alterations are all right.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“But how can you be? If something needs fixing, there’s still time this morning. By afternoon, it’ll be too late. We’ll need to leave for the gala at around three.”
Lex resisted the urge to protest. If she needed him to help her at the gala, she needed him to help her at the gala.
The Christmas gala was the event of the town social season, an annual holiday gathering for some five hundred of the Chilton glitterati. Ostensibly, it was a fund-raiser for cancer research and the local medical center, but it was as much as anything a see-and-be-seen event.
As chair, Olivia worked for the better part of the year to pull it all together. It was a holiday bash for a good cause. Hard to be too down on it.
He just wished he could get out of going.
But Olivia needed an escort and with Bradley gone, it fell to Lex once again to step into his father’s shoes—in this case literally. He knew all the reasons for it, but it still made him chafe. Just as he knew that it was the emotional upheaval that Olivia had been through—losing her husband, being betrayed by her son—that made her so dependent on him.
It was still suffocating.
He could only hope that something on the list of possible passwords Keely had compiled would get them into Bradley’s machine. They could get the information, clear Olivia and Keely, and duty would be discharged. The threat to Olivia would be gone and Lex’s life could go back to normal. Before he went nuts.
Before he got in too deep to walk away.
“Okay,” he said. “You want to be there at three, we’ll be there.”
Small, Chilton might have been, but it was one of the wealthiest enclaves in Connecticut—indeed, in the country—and it had a country club to match.
Two of them, actually, but the one that really counted, the only one, was the Chilton Racket and Leisure Club. Built in 1902, the Club, as it was simply known, sprawled across three hundred acres of rolling terrain with emerald golf courses, woods, tanbark riding trails and red clay courts. Its membership was among the most exclusive in New England. It was rumored that some of the biggest Wall Street acquisitions and mergers over the past century had been negotiated from the deep, leather club chairs around the tables in the bar.
Now a long line of vehicles snaked up the hill to the Palladian-style clubhouse. Designed by a famous architect, the sprawling pale limestone building glowed like a beacon. Light blazed from the enormous windows. Holiday garland swagged the facade. Black-jacketed valets dashed back and forth, spiriting away Rolls Royces, Jaguars, Bentleys and Mercedes.
Keely stepped on the red carpet with a sense of unreality. It had been years since she’d been to the Club. Growing up, she’d practically lived there in the summers with her tribe of friends, playing tennis, splashing in the pools, gleefully slicing balls at the driving range, exhausting the saddle horses on the trails.
When the money had gone, they’d given up their membership. It had felt like being excommunicated. Abruptly, she was on the outside looking in, the pleasures she’d taken as part of her world suddenly denied. As a girl, she’d never thought twice about being in a place where every need was anticipated and every request instantly served. Learning that it wasn’t the real world had been a hard lesson. Her parents had joined up again as of a few years ago and her card once again gave her free rein, but she’d never been back. It was different, somehow.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Stafford.” The tuxedoed greeter nodded at them as they stepped over the threshold. A smiling woman in a black skirt and jacket spirited away their coats. “The gala is in the main ballroom.”
There was something about walking into the ballroom that held an air of expectancy, as though she were walking into another world. It wasn’t just an ordinary door but a gracefully curving archway. Inside, the ceiling soared high overhead, carrying away the hubbub of several hundred people all talking at once. The carpet was plush underfoot. A staggering number of tables filled the space.
Sixty-five of them, to be exact. Keely could say that with confidence because she and Jeannie and Lydia had arranged and transported centerpieces for all of them, as well as the floral cascades around the stage and in the entryway. That afternoon, when they’d put the flowers in place, the light had been mercilessly bright, the tablecloths bare. Now, china and silver gleamed and the enormous chandeliers cast a soft glow over the pale shoulders of jewel-bedecked women. In the corner, an orchestra played “Winter Wonderland.”
“Smile,” Jeannie murmured into her ear, handing her a canapé from the tray of a passi
ng waiter. “You’re having fun.”
And somehow, Keely found herself with a champagne glass in hand, smiling and nodding at people she’d known since she’d been a child.
“Well, Keely Stafford, aren’t you a picture?” an older man with a shock of white hair said to her. “And here alone. The young men don’t have two brain cells among them, these days, do they? Why, if I were forty years younger, I’d take you and run off to Monte Carlo.” He gave her a roguish wink.
“Isn’t that your wife coming, Mr. Lucas?” Keely said, fighting a smile.
“Oh, right. Mum’s the word. Hello, Eloise,” he said to the beaming silver haired woman in lavender who walked up beside him.
“Hello, dear,” she said. “Have you been asking Keely to run away with you again?”
“I think this is going to cost me a diamond necklace,” he whispered to Keely.
Eloise patted his hand. “A nice orange tree for the solarium will do, dear. And a turn or two around the dance floor.”
“Only as long as Keely saves a dance for me,” he said.
“Oh, you must, Keely, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” Eloise said, rolling her eyes. “Come along, Ben, the Prestons are here.”
“Didn’t we just see them yesterday?” he muttered aggrievedly.
“Yes, dear, but now it’s tonight.”
“Don’t forget about that dance,” he warned Keely as Eloise tugged him away.
Keely laughed at his hangdog look and began to enjoy herself.
“Careful,” Jeannie whispered. “You’re smiling.”
The Christmas gala was all the things about the Chilton lifestyle that Lex loathed. He knew how much of the money raised at these events went to cover the food, the presentation, the entertainment, and how little ever made it to the designated charities.
It was the last place he wanted to be.
But he stood in his father’s tux alongside Olivia, resisting the urge to tug at his collar like a small boy. So he wasn’t in the habit of being anyone’s lackey. It was his mother, not just anyone, and it was Christmas. It was little enough to do.
Except that he had the uneasy feeling that it wasn’t just a Christmas thing. Olivia was more subtle than Pierce, but in her own way, she was trying to push Lex into that same box. Somehow, he’d become her escort, her accountant, her financial advisor, her investigative assistant. If she had her way, soon enough he’d be her board representative.
“You remember my son Trey, don’t you?” Olivia was saying to an emaciated woman with a designer dress and the permanently surprised expression of a facelift veteran. “Trey, you remember Alicia Smythe.”
He dredged up a smile and held out his hand obediently. “Hello, Mrs. Smythe.”
She gave him the countess squeeze that a certain sort of woman considered a handshake. “Alicia, please,” she said. “Trey, how good to see you again. You certainly look like things have been going well for you.” Her eyes gleamed. “I understand you’ve been working, ah, import/export overseas.”
Bradley, Lex thought, had been busy. “Actually, I’m a photographer.”
“How nice for you,” she said insincerely, ignoring his words. “And, Olivia, how’s that other son of yours? He got loose from that Stafford girl, I understand. None too soon, if you ask me.”
That Stafford girl.
The woman’s voice lowered. “They’re here tonight, if you can believe it. Just walk in as big as life every year as though they had a right to. As though they still belonged.”
That did it. Lex opened his mouth.
“Isn’t that a lovely necklace you have on, Alicia,” Olivia interrupted before he could say a word. “Wherever did you get it?”
“Oh, this old thing?” The Smythe woman patted it as though to remember which one she was wearing. “I stopped by Harry Winston last time I was out in Beverly Hills. It’s so hard to find good emeralds. Why, I was just telling Joyce the other day—”
“Excuse me,” Lex broke in. “I need to go hunt down another drink.”
What he needed was to get out of there before the top of his head blew off. “That Stafford girl.” The silky condescension in Smythe’s voice had him gritting his teeth. What was Olivia doing spending time with these people? What was he? They were insipid, shallow, mean-spirited. They were wastes of time.
The only even remotely pleasant or useful bit of the whole discussion was the news that Keely and her family were there. He’d known Jeannie was doing the flowers for the event. Keely hadn’t talked about coming. Instantly, the night began to look up.
Casually, he navigated the edges of the ballroom, smiling, nodding, never stopping, looking always for the one person who could make the night worthwhile.
And then he saw her.
She was, simply, beautiful. Amid all the rainbow drama of fabrics and jewels, she had chosen simplicity. Her gown was cut like that of a Grecian goddess, draping from the shoulders and falling to her feet in a waterfall of silken white, leaving her arms bare. Gold gleamed—at her ears and throat, in a cuff around one of her narrow wrists that made it look almost unbearably fragile. Her hair was pulled up in a complicated plait that focused the eye on her slender neck.
And on her face. She was luminous, as though she radiated light from inside. Did he see it because she was his? he wondered. Because he knew what it was to watch her expression slip from pleasure into ecstasy while he was inside her?
But then her eyes lit and she smiled at someone past him and he found himself taking an involuntary breath. She smiled and walked directly toward him and all he could do was wonder how the hell he’d gotten so lucky as to be standing in this particular spot at this particular time.
And totally unaware of him, she passed by to go to a white-haired gentleman. “Someone promised me a dance,” she was saying. “I’m going to collect, Mr. Lucas, that’s all there is to it.”
With a bow, Lucas held out his arm. “A dance you want and a dance you shall have.”
Bemused, Lex watched the pair go to the floor. With great seriousness, Lucas held up his hands in dance position. Keely stepped in and they began to move in a slow, formal waltz.
It was the first time Lex had really ever been able to watch her when she was unawares. It was the first time he’d seen her without the threat of the future hanging over her. Her eyes sparkled, her laugh was infectious. She was long and lovely in her fluid gown. She and her partner rose and dipped to the music, moving in and out of the shadows thrown by the chandeliers. And as they circled the floor, Lex felt a sweet twist inside him.
The song drew to an end and Lucas twirled Keely around to a stop at the edge of the floor and bowed. “Thank you, my dear, for a lovely, lovely dance.”
“Thank you,” Keely said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
And Lex couldn’t wait any longer. “May I cut in?” he asked, stepping forward.
Keely’s eyes seemed to grow larger as their gazes met. Her lips parted, and it damned near took his breath away. “Of course,” she murmured.
The white-haired guy squinted at him. “Cutting in?”
“If you’re done.”
He gave Lex an assessing look and then nodded. “Okay by me. This one appears to have a brain,” he added to Keely.
“Oh, he does,” Keely assured him, laughter in her eyes.
“Should I know what that was about?” Lex asked as he pulled her into his arms.
“I don’t think so. Merry Christmas,” she added as the orchestra began to play “Tennessee Waltz.”
“Merry Christmas to you. Are you having a good time?”
“Surprisingly, yes. Are you?”
She was featherlight in his arms. He caught a hint of her scent. “I am now.”
Her smile was brilliant. “Smooth talker.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said before he knew he was going to.
Keely missed a step and lurched against him for an instant. “Definitely a smooth talker.” But she didn’t laugh.
&nb
sp; In the soft lighting, her eyes were dark and enormous. The chandeliers threw shadows across the fragile curves of her collar bones. Her mouth mesmerized him. “I want to kiss you,” he said.
“We can’t.”
“I still want to. I think I may always want to.” He’d intended it as a quip but somehow as he said it, he realized it was true. In this moment, at this time, he couldn’t ever imagine being with any other woman. It was Keely, all he needed, all he wanted. No one else mattered. No one else ever could.
Like stepping on granite and having it turn to quicksand, she’d once said to him.
Him, the loner, the guy who never got carried away. Him, the guy who knew what he wanted and where he was going. He’d stepped on solid ground, it had turned to water under his feet. And suddenly he found himself in over his head.
In over his head and scared as hell.
Chapter Twelve
The snow crunched underfoot as Lex walked down the road. His breath formed white plumes in the morning air. He hunched his shoulders in his jacket and ignored the cold. It felt too good to be outside and moving.
He’d been up at dawn, restless and edgy, feeling itchy in his own skin. If he’d still been on the rhino assignment, he’d have been hiking in to the blind near the watering hole, hoping to hide out and catch the poachers in the act of setting their snares. He’d be focused on action and activity and the work that made his life worthwhile.
But he wasn’t on assignment, he wasn’t working. He was just spinning his wheels in Chilton, feeling stuck deeper in the mud with each passing day. And so he found himself out on the roads, walking next to the snow banks, proving to himself that he wasn’t completely immobile.
And he was full of it because he knew damned good and well that no matter how far he walked, he wasn’t going to get away from what was really eating at him.
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