He knocked as soon as Harlot left. Words swirled in his mind of what he’d say, but the door flung open much faster than he expected.
Grace.
Her casual sundress and flat sandals looked glorious on her. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. Those shiny, long long legs were tan and tone, and he instantly ached.
Remembering those beauties wrapped around his head as he made her scream, then wrapped around his waist and all other parts of him that adored her. Her dejected expression didn’t match her angelic appearance.
He stepped closer, desperate to hold her. Assure her he was sticking around, if she still wanted him.
The deeper her glower grew, the more Dorian doubted that.
She stepped aside, and let him in without a word.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“I should ask you that question. The article said far more vicious things about you.” Her voice was soft, concerned. She didn’t even look at him. Instead, Grace hugged her middle like she didn’t trust herself.
Again. After all their hard work to get her to relax, she was back to being wound up tighter than guitar strings ready to snap.
“I can handle that.” I said it again. Do I know any other phrases? “What did your lawyer have to say?”
With a sigh, she recapped the events with Ruben’s agent, with little emotion. Almost like she was reading a manual. “But I told him I wasn’t going to pursue it. I wanted to move on.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Really? That’s incredible, Grace. Is Ruben going after him?”
“I’ll ask at the party today. But, it doesn’t matter to me. To be honest,” she swallowed, and took a deep breath. “I was looking forward to introducing you to everyone. But Ruben is furious. He thinks I did this to him on purpose. I’m still going, to show my support for Daisy, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you came.”
Just looking at her sad eyes nearly broke him. It made sense. Dorian’s lifestyle—former lifestyle—had inadvertently caused enough problems already, just through association.
He didn’t want to make it worse. In fact, the only way to solve some of those problems was to distance himself. That was what any decent publicist would advise. The sight of her disappointed because of him, ripped his heart.
Dorian stepped toward her, and caressed her arms, slowly and tenderly. “Whatever you want, I understand.”
When he kissed her forehead, her hands gripped his waist. And pulled him in.
Her body was so soft, so responsive to his touch through her sundress.
His fingers slipped through her arms to her back, and pressed her against his chest. Trailing kisses down the side of her face to just below her ear made her chest rise and fell a little faster beneath her silver charm necklace of a heart, a single diamond chip at its apex.
Lilac perfume, again. Dorian ached to bury himself in that scent, because the longer he held her, the longer it felt like goodbye. “We can figure this out, Grace,” he whispered in her ear. Little goosebumps rose along her neck where he’d breathed against her. “It’s just a small setback. We can set everything straight.”
Grace nodded, but remained silent.
“Don’t shut yourself away in there, please.” He laid his hand over her heart. “Don’t close this off.”
Her fingers gripped his knuckles, and she swallowed. Her eyes never met his.
Shit.
She already had.
Dorian had never doubted his role before, never apologized for it, and just wanted to enjoy life. Having fun had become his credo ever since he discharged from the Marines. Whenever a date stopped being fun, or a relationship ended because they didn’t like his role, he’d shrugged it off and went on to the next adventure. As he’d told Grace, life was too short.
The woman had enamored him beyond the point of infatuation. She was insatiable. The minute she’d put aside her grief, even just for an evening, she was alive. Thoroughly addicting.
He hadn’t even questioned taking on her problems and worries as his own. As long as it made her smile, and agree to go out with him, he would’ve done anything. Now, this relationship on the verge of collapse, almost buckled his knees.
“I have to go. I don’t want to be late.” Her voice shook.
He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “Call me later?”
Now, she looked at him. Her gaze studied his face for several seconds. Then, she rose up on her toes, and kissed him. Soft, sweet, and lingering over his lips.
She never said a word. Then left.
Dorian stood in her entryway, alone. He stared at her mantle, with the cherub statue reaching to the heavens. Beside it sat several frames with pictures of her daughter. Those parts of the shelf were empty the last time he was here. She really was moving on with her life.
Without him.
His knees weakened. Before he collapsed right there on her floor, he made himself leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Grace
Ruben and Julie took the princess party theme to beyond gaudy. Just as all little girls would dream of on their special day. Pink and glittery silver streamers draped the entire facade of the white Georgian-style home.
Grace couldn’t even see the front door anymore. Pink balloons were stacked on either side of the brick mailbox, forming two castle turrets, and more tied to every spindle of the iron fence along their driveway.
Greeting Princess Daisy’s subjects at the entrance was a giant inflatable princess palace over the gateway, leading through to the backyard to all the festivities.
If their plan was to spoil a little seven year old and dash her hopes for future birthdays, mission accomplished.
She smiled as she pulled through, and parked on the circle front drive. She’d walk the rest of the way. There were already more than a dozen cars on the street. Most visible beyond all the sparkle were two burly men in suits standing at the driveway gate. Checking people in.
Grace gave them her name and ID, and waited for her name to be cleared. One spoke into a radio at his sleeve. She caught a glimpse of his holstered sidearm under his suit jacket.
Wow. They went all out on safety.
They waved her through, and she carried the bright pink and yellow gift bag with gold ribbons dangling in her hand. She hoped Daisy would love her gift. A set of princess glitter-globes, one for each of her favorite movies.
Laughter and excited screams lifted from the backyard, well before she rounded the corner beyond the garage. They weren’t nearly as loud as the DJ blaring girly pop music over the crowd.
What a crowd. When she finally took in the mass of people crowding around several inflatable bounce castles, slides, and ball pits, she managed to lift her jaw up from the grass. More than thirty little girls raced round the expansive space, chasing each other in their precious princess costumes in every color.
Grace eventually spotted Daisy on the top of the jungle gym tower, casting spells over the edge, wearing a bright pink and white gown, reminiscent of the mermaid princess she loved. She couldn’t help but grin. She pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures.
Her grin dwindled when she caught sight of at least four more men in suits and dark sunglasses along the edges, clearly guarding over the whole event.
Someone behind her screamed.
Grace jumped. A little girl in a blue gown raced by and swung her wand in the air, hitting her present as she went.
“Grace!” Julie lifted her head from the buffet table on the patio, her smile genuine. However, the bags under her eyes had deepened. Like she hadn’t slept in days. “I’m so glad you made it!” She jogged over in her leather sandals, holding her peony skirt down as she ran. When her arms wrapped around Grace’s shoulders, she blew a sigh of relief.
At least Julie doesn’t hate me.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Of course,” Grace replied softly. Much less convincingly than she hoped. “How are the kids?�
��
“Oh, you know Daisy.” Her friend waved her hand to the side. “She’s oblivious to anything outside her fantasy world.”
“And Pax?”
Her smile slipped a bit. “He’s over on the lounge chair by the pool, playing on his video game…and brooding. He’s not used to this many people around. Neither am I, for that matter.”
Ruben’s laugh filtered from across the yard, where he stood around a bunch of other men in buttoned shirts and light jackets.
Either fathers of the girls at the party, or maybe more sycophants pretending they care about his personal life, when really they are just after their chance at fame and connection. It was hard to tell behind all their sunglasses.
Except when the celebrity caught sight of her, and he glowered. That was easy enough to see, despite the shades covering his eyes.
“I’m guessing he still hates me.” She put the gift bag on the table with the others, all wrapped in some kind of pink or sparkly wrapping and ribbons galore.
Julie rolled her eyes. “Just too many hits at once. He’ll get over it.”
“Which part is he more pissed at? My dating a former escort, or Nigel’s backstabbing?”
Her friend sighed, and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Toss up. But it’s probably a good thing you didn’t bring Dorian.”
The words squeezed her chest, and she rubbed at her sternum. Grace had wanted to bring him, so badly. The tabloids screwed that up for her. “Are those rent-a-cops,” she nodded at a few of the security men. “Or do they come with the inflatable palaces?”
“That’s Ruben’s network, living up to their end of the contract.”
“Listen up, my little princesses!” A tall woman in a golden gown complete with gaudy blonde wig, crown and wand emerged from behind the jungle gym. “It’s time for us to play pin the kiss on the frog!”
The girls screamed, and all raced over to the patio, where a large poster hung on the wall. A giant, green frog squatted across the front, waiting for ‘kisses.’
Miss Glinda-The-Good-Witch-Look-Alike gave each little girl two large, red kiss stickers, and they all lined up awaiting their turn.
“Where did you find her?” Grace snapped a few more photos.
“There are about a dozen companies in our area alone that offer character rentals for birthday parties. Ruben hired the most expensive one. He also hired a few makeup artists to give all the girls a princess face when they arrived.” Julie sighed. “In about twenty minutes, the white unicorns will arrive to give pony rides.”
Grace laughed. “You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Ruben went all out to make Daisy happy. Probably to make me happy, too. Make up for all the changes.”
Pax glared when a little girl whipped by him so fast, her train slapped him in the face.
“Is Pax all right?”
“I’ve asked him that about twenty times today, and he says he’s fine. We celebrate his birthday next week. You know how Ruben is, celebrating their birthdays separately so they can each feel special on their own day. But he’s been so moody today.”
Grace tilted her head. “Does he look a little pale to you?”
“Daisy, sweetheart, let the other girls have a turn!” Julie sighed. “Hold that thought, Grace. I’ll be right back.” She went to tend to the girls.
Just as Ruben excused himself from his entourage, and slowly made his way over to Grace. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his frown deepened with every step.
Grace mirrored his posture, still gripping her phone. It was in that moment, with his disapproving glare and his gaudy show of financial status, that her confidence bolstered. She’d done nothing wrong.
If he expected her to cower or apologize, he had another thing coming. The fact that he’d rushed to assumptions just like that tabloid journalist—assumptions that were wrong to start with—wasn’t her problem.
He finally reached her side, but looked down at the ground instead of at her.
Fine by her. She kept her gaze on Pax. “You’ve just put Cinderella’s fairy godmother out of business."
Ruben snorted. “You should see inside the house. Looks like she threw up a bottle of Pepto in there. The cakes alone cost me a whole month’s salary.”
“Cakes? As in plural?”
“Two. A pink princess gown made of strawberry, and a castle made of rainbow.”
“I think I need an insulin shot, just thinking about all that sugar.”
His jaw twitched. Ruben still refused to look at her directly. Just kept his gaze on the crowd.
“I’m relieved to see my name wasn’t removed from the guest list.”
“The kids really wanted to see you.”
Nice brush off, jerk.
“Does Pax look okay to you?”
“He’s had a long week.” Her old friend scratched his forehead. “We all have.”
“Contrary to what your publicist is trying to make you believe.” Grace cocked her head at him. “Never once was there any exchange of money between Dorian and I, let alone charity funds.”
“But he is a gigolo. You aren’t going to deny that.” He lowered his voice, to keep the surrounding ears from overhearing.
“The term is escort, and he preferred Knight.”
“You’re dating an escort?”
“Correction. I’m dating a former Knight.”
Ruben rolled his eyes. “This is so not who I thought you were.”
Grace fisted her hand at her side. “I’m the same person I’ve always been. You’re just lashing out at me because of Nigel. I’m letting that go. Go after him if you’d like, but I want no part of it.”
“You have no idea what this is doing to my reputation.”
She ground her teeth. “I could give a shit about your reputation, Ruben.”
He gawked at her.
Grace pushed on. “Mine has been slandered enough in the press—all false, mind you. Despite what preconceptions you have about his former role, Dorian is smart, kind, funny, and he makes me happy. Something I haven’t been in a very long time. We have done nothing of which to be ashamed. If there’s an investigation under the charity’s finances, I welcome it. I have nothing to hide.”
He blinked, and dropped his arms. Ruben stood there staring for several seconds.
Damn, that feels good to say it out loud.
“You don’t have anything to hide either, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. Let your reputation stand for itself. The rest is just noise. Noise that dies down whenever you step in front of a camera.”
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Well, stick around.” She had a hard time hiding her smile. Because she was still mad at Ruben, for assuming the worst in her. Grace loved the person she was when with Dorian. “Because I’m not letting any bullshit in the tabloids dictate the terms of my life, or my career. You shouldn’t either.”
He smirked, and tried to cover it with his palm. Grace could see the slight lift in his cheek from behind his hand. Ruben finally took his sunglasses off, and looked at her. Apology was written all over his eyes. “I’ve had a lot of people try to manage me lately, probably because that’s what they’re used to doing with other celebs in Los Angeles. I’ve tried to go with the flow the best I can, but it seems to be creating more mess this way.”
“Your publicist’s job is to sell you, and manage the chatter, not to manage you. So, don’t let him.”
He smiled.
“And for God’s sakes, please pick a different hairstyle.”
Her friend laughed.
Dozens of flashes cut through the crowd.
Grace looked up, and saw three or four cameras from atop the wooden fence at the back of property, clicking away in a frenzy.
Several gasps scattered throughout the party guests, while the security detail rushed over to block the paparazzi.
“Vultures,” Ruben growled. “At my daughter’s birthday party!”
“Daddy?” Pax
called.
Grace turned. The little boy’s face was completely white, and his video game slipped from his hand, falling into the pool.
“It’s all right, honey,” she answered. She started to move to him, to help him inside.
More photographers rushed in from the driveway gate, more than the two security guards could handle. Flashes blinded the whole patio. Girls squealed, and rushed inside the patio door to get away from them.
Pax stood frozen.
Grace was only a dozen steps away, when his eyes rolled up in the back of his head.
He knees buckled, and he dropped.
“Pax!” she screamed, dropping her phone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Grace
Grace stared up at the cross inside the hospital chapel. The simple wooden face matched most of the small room, its decor plain and minimal, with most bare walls and muted lighting. She sat in one of the few chairs in the small room, alone. Thankfully.
Pax had dropped so quickly, and hadn’t revived. Despite the paramedics working on him, and the last hour they’d been at the local hospital.
Julie was a nervous wreck every second, and had ridden in the ambulance with him. Ruben rode behind with Daisy and two security guards.
Grace had followed in her own vehicle, her limbs as numb as her mind was frazzled. Her hands were sore from white-knuckling the steering wheel speeding down the highway.
All she could see during those horrible moments was Meggie’s face. The same pale, lifeless face from the gurney at the hospital from years before.
It was happening all over again.
Sitting in that waiting room with Ruben and Julie had been unbearable. The same waiting room she’d sat in when the doctor told her she'd lost her husband and daughter. The waiting room of death.
“Don’t you do this to me again,” she mumbled to the cross. “You’ve already taken her from me once. Wasn’t that enough?”
Only silence answered.
The same silence every time she’d prayed to God over the years.
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