by Sera Taíno
Philip placed a hand on her elbow and glanced up at the building. Val followed his gaze to the roof, where spotlights lunged up into the sky and people circulated to the distant sound of music. “The fundraiser is being held up there,” he explained.
She whistled at the sight. “That looks like one serious party.”
“My mother’s fundraisers tend to be popular, especially when they involve an auction.”
“What’s being auctioned?”
“The usual—a hotel stay, art, an exclusive vacation—whatever the donors decide to contribute.”
Val nodded, imagining the kind of money that was being thrown around at an event like this. “It sounds like your mom makes a killing.”
Philip smiled. “She’s good at what she does.”
He led her inside the building and Val had to scoop her jaw off the floor. She’d only seen hotels like this on television—fabulously dressed people in vast rooms that were so polished, the glare was blinding. She took in the sleek marble floors, soaring stone columns and even a winding staircase, which they passed on their way to elevators that slid up to the top of the building inside glass tubes that coruscated light.
The elevator doors opened onto a fairy tableau. Strings of light formed a latticework over a massive outdoor banquet arrangement. Fine linen tablecloths, silverware and crystal adorned the tables. Giant screens peppered the enclosed auction area, where people milled around descriptions of the auction items.
But dinner would be served outdoors, under the moon and the lanterns on this clear, cloudless night. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before.
She clutched Philip’s arm. “I can’t do this.”
Philip swept the perfectly coiled hair away from her face and gently lifted her chin. “Yes you can.”
“These are your people. You know how to act around them.”
“So do you, Val. They aren’t extraterrestrials.”
Panic crawled up her throat, threatening to choke her. “They’re going to catch the stench of my middle class and toss me off the roof.”
“Val!” Philip blurted out before laughing so hard, tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. Her panic turned to laughter as well until she was nearly doubled over with it.
“Fine, okay. Don’t laugh at me. I was just spiraling for a minute. I’m good.” She took a deep breath before repeating, “I’m good.”
Philip pulled her gently against him. “You’re more than good. You look delectable, the type of woman a man would dream of having on his arm.”
Delectable. That word sent a discharge of heat somewhere south of her belly button. The bruja seated in the impulse control center of her brain shouted something at her, trying to remind her of the dangers around her, but she ignored her.
She was tired of being afraid.
“Philip, you made it!”
Val turned to see an elegant, older woman approaching. She seemed to blaze with the radiance of the lanterns surrounding them. Her golden hair was swept soft and loose over the midnight blue sleeves of an elegant evening gown. Layers of delicate tulle and satin flowed from a fitted waist, while the bodice was embroidered with finely stitched, whorled designs. Val didn’t have to wonder who she was. Philip’s face was an echo of this woman’s, and they had the same eyes the color of lapis lazuli.
Under normal circumstances, meeting Philip’s parents would be monumental. People planned for these things. Val so wanted to get this right.
“Ma, this is Val. Val, my mother, Grace Wagner.”
“I guessed as much by the resemblance,” Val said, offering her warmest smile, chasing away the urge to collapse in on herself. This was not the time to be shy. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wagner.”
Grace’s eyes crinkled at the edges, much like Philip’s did when he smiled, and Val found comfort in the resemblance. “You may call me Grace, darling. My, my, that dress color is absolutely stunning on you,” she purred with a slow, Southern drawl.
“Let’s make introductions and get you both seated.” Grace tucked her hand in the crook of Val’s arm, leading her into the dining area. Philip paused every now and again to greet people they knew and introduce them to Val, while Grace charmed them with a combination of quick wit and familiarity. Val had been so terrified that she’d have to generate conversation points to speak to people, but Grace lived up to her name, handling everything with the ease of long practice.
“You’ll be seated near me and my husband. You can speak to him whenever the opportunity presents itself.”
Val stiffened in surprise. “I guess Philip told you about our work.”
Grace squeezed Val’s hand. “He shares a lot with me, and from what he’s told me, he’s very proud of what you’ve both accomplished.” She glanced at Philip, who flanked Val on her opposite side. “Did you warn her about the speeches?” Grace asked.
“Yes, including the one you’re giving,” he retorted.
“And to think I was just now talking you up. Pest,” she scolded without bite. To Val, she said, “I find that copious amounts of champagne help ease the agony.” She plucked two fluted glasses from a passing server and handed one each to Val and Philip. “There will be live music after and—oh, dear—is that Mavis Richards?” Her gaze flicked beyond Val and Philip to someone in the distance. “I didn’t invite her. She must be someone’s plus one. I have to find out who. If you’ll excuse me.”
“And there she goes,” Philip said as she floated away.
“Your mom seems like a lot of fun,” Val said before a familiar voice greeted her from the other side of their table. Étienne was already on his feet and making his way to greet them.
“Val! You are even more of a vision than usual. How did you get tied up with this frog?”
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Philip protested.
Étienne took Val’s hand, the gesture eliciting a giggle that she couldn’t hold back. “I am always on the side of beauty.” He brushed his lips ever so lightly across her knuckles. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Philip looked past him at their table. “Where’s Malena?”
Étienne’s exuberant demeanor faltered, and Val had to repress the urge to ask him if he was okay. “She had other plans this evening.”
The shift in Étienne’s mood was hard to miss. But the out-in-the-open venue made heartfelt exchanges difficult, and Étienne recovered his good humor quickly enough. “That means Val will have two admirers at her feet.”
Val played along, batting her lashes. “It’s what every woman dreams of.”
“Okay, enough of that,” Philip said over their shared laughter.
They settled in, drinks and cocktails appearing before them. The seat next to Val remained empty, taunting her, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin her night.
By her second glass of champagne, Val was so relaxed, she barely noticed the comings and goings of the table until Philip stood to shake someone’s hand. She looked up, up, up at a man who was at least as tall as Philip. Philip introduced his father.
“A pleasure, Mr. Wagner,” Val said, hoping she came across as charming. Philip was, in fact, the spitting image of his mother, but there something in the older Wagner’s height and the severity of his features that she recognized in Philip.
Étienne led the banter at their table, to Val’s relief. Philip’s mother was right—the speeches were a snooze-fest only mitigated by the champagne, Étienne’s wicked expressions and Philip’s warm arm around her shoulder. They lasted forever, but Val found herself shifting ever so slowly into the heat of Philip’s body and pulled away, reminding herself of what she was supposed to be doing here.
Her gaze shifted to Philip’s father, but he was politely absorbed in pretending to care about what was being said. She hadn’t exactly been presented with the opportunity to speak to him so she put that out of her hea
d for the moment, relieved when the speeches finally ended and the appetizers appeared.
Now food was something she could get into.
Val scanned the offerings, finally settling on the fig and goat cheese phyllo pocket. She moaned at the delicate interplay of sweet and salty flavors.
Philip placed another pocket on her plate. “Let me guess. Cheese?”
Val moaned again around her mouthful. “Always the cheese.”
“You seem to be enjoying your appetizer,” Andreas observed.
Val swallowed. She knew this was her chance, but she was sorry to break the intimate moment she was having with her meal.
“Food is central to my life.” Val said, taking a sip of water. “I own a restaurant in East Ward. You might be familiar with the area.”
Andreas’s ice-blue eyes flickered toward Philip. “Is that where Philip met you?”
Philip answered, “She’s actually a committee chair for the East Ward Fair Housing Coalition.”
Andreas’s expression shuttered, his face growing impassive. “I see. So I can partly thank you for the proposal Philip presented to me.”
Val smiled. “I’d like to think it was a group effort. We all worked very hard on it and tried to take everyone’s interests into account.” Val thought of the anger she once felt toward Wagner Developments, how she wanted to set it all on fire. But after Philip and the work they’d done together, she didn’t feel nearly as peeved. “Especially your team.”
Andreas raised his eyebrows in surprise. “How so?”
Val set her fork down and shifted in her chair. “I have to confess. I was angry when your company bought the Victoria and was afraid of the changes your company might bring to our community. Especially when the evictions started.”
She perceived the tension coming from the older man, who possibly expected an attack and was preparing for a counteroffensive. He reminded her so much of Olivia in that moment, so quick to come out swinging. She had to head that off.
“But when Philip demonstrated how willing he was to communicate with us, I realized it was key to making sure everyone’s needs were met. The Victoria was a fluke in Wagner’s business practices, a question of having an objective without really taking into account all the stakeholders. I mean, you didn’t even have a liaison to the community when that project was taken on.”
“You’re right. There didn’t seem to be a need on such a small project,” he said, his hackles visibly lowering.
“But we applied those lessons to the more ambitious waterfront project. I think with the new plan in place, things will go much more smoothly and without the delays that have plagued the Victoria. And that’s a win for everyone, don’t you think, Mr. Wagner?”
Andreas watched her, which made Val feel like a pinned butterfly about to be poked by a scientist. Out of the corner of her eyes, she observed Étienne, who seemed to be absorbed in their every word, and Philip, who wore a look of pride. He placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze.
“Please call me Andreas. I have a few questions for clarification, if both of you don’t mind.” He glanced past Val to include Philip.
Val wanted to fist-bump the air but folded her hands in her lap instead as Philip answered, “Ask away.”
* * *
Val spent a good part of dinner engaged in pleasant conversation with Philip’s father, answering his questions about the proposal. Whenever she wasn’t able to clarify a point outside of her area of expertise, Philip stepped in to help her out.
When dinner was over, there was dancing, which Val got her fill of by partnering with Étienne or Philip, and sometimes with both at the same time. They experienced three celebrity sightings, which Val couldn’t wait to tell Nati about when she got home.
As Philip had promised, it really was just a grand party in the end. Val couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun and it was only due to sheer exhaustion that the three of them parted ways to go home for the night.
“You know what I realized?” Philip asked after they’d driven back to her place and he parked, this time on the cross street at the curb, just under her apartment.
“What did you realize?” she answered.
“Every time we go out, our dates revolve around food.”
Val smiled, shaking her head. “You didn’t tell me this was a date.”
Even in the car’s dim interior, Val caught the hint of Philip’s blush. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he said, “You know what I mean.”
She’d been keeping him at bay since he told her who he was, certain that if she gave him half a chance, he’d hurt her, prove to her that her trust was misplaced. But it felt like an old refrain from a song that she’d been listening to on repeat for too long.
Maybe this time, it would be different.
“I’m okay with calling tonight a date.”
Philip turned slightly to face her, and he’d never seemed so vulnerable. “You are?”
Val reached over the black leather armrest and took his hand. His shock was evident in the way his eyebrow quirked upward. But he didn’t resist, watching her with quiet intensity as she turned his hand palm up and slowly, without breaking eye contact, pressed a kiss to it. She lingered there, tasting the sharp flavor of salt and hand soap, while the crease of his palm against her lips was like a return kiss. She pulled back slowly, folding his fingers closed over her phantom gift.
His shocked expression morphed into something dark, like agony. He held himself still, watching and waiting, the only hint of movement a quickening of his breathing. Of course, he would wait for her. It seemed he’d been waiting for her since the very beginning. Waiting for her to be ready, to feel safe, to finally catch up to him.
She tilted her head up, her skin tingling with the sharp edge of expectation. Caution called out from somewhere far away, urging her to slow down. But it was nothing more than a faint echo coming to her from a distance before dissipating into silence. She leaned into him and he met her halfway, their lips a whisper against each other. He kissed her gently, even when her lips fell open in invitation. He broke away before something more incendiary could take over.
“Val?” he asked, his voice husky with the kind of longing she recognized in herself.
She ran her hand over the smooth material of his dress shirt, his muscles twitching beneath the fabric. Warm and tense, he leaned into her exploratory touch. She brushed the skin at the nape of his neck, his soft, dark gold hair tickling her fingers. She had anticipated that her touch-starved body would react instantaneously to Philip. But the expectation was nothing compared to the hunger that gnawed at her, the need to experience the glide of sweat-slicked heat against heat making her weak and achy all over.
Burying her fingers in his dark blond curls, she tugged his head toward her, but his hand had made its way behind her head and before she could take the lead, he pulled her to him and answered her kiss, turning her blood to churning magma beneath her skin. He wasn’t polite or restrained in any way. He was made of fire, too.
By the time they came up for air, she was halfway across the armrest, the gearshift a pressure on her hip that she’d been too caught up to pay attention to.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, forehead to forehead, chasing his breath with each exhale.
“Come upstairs with me,” she whispered.
His face was painted with the kind of agony she wanted to prolong until they broke night again. “Val,” he breathed. “Is this what you want?”
Wanting had never been her problem. “Yes.”
Chapter Twenty
Val paused at the entrance of her bedroom, the immaculate space appearing small and plain after the opulence of the party they’d just left. She thought about playing it off, but her mouth was way ahead of her brain.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” she said, sweeping he
r hand to indicate her room.
Philip’s eyes, which had been alive with their shared excitement only a moment earlier, grew soft. He held her hand in his large one and squeezed it.
“This is better because it’s yours.” When Val didn’t answer, he tugged her close to him. “If you’ve changed your mind and want to wait, I understand. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No!” she said, so quickly it brought a smile to his face. “I was just... Whatever, it’s gone. All good.”
She pulled him inside and shut the door, making sure to lock it before crossing to the opposite side of her bed and switching on a lamp, suffusing the room in its fairy-gold glow. He seemed to take up all the available space, especially in his ultra formal tuxedo, which made everything look dull in comparison.
Philip ran a forefinger over the column of her neck before capturing a lose curl. “May I undo your hair?”
Val nodded, and he made quick work of the bobby pins and nearly invisible clips, her hair tumbling like rain around her shoulders. He used both hands to run his fingers through her hair, teasing the curls into shape.
“I’ve always wanted to touch your hair, since the first time I met you.”
“I would have never guessed. Some people have no self-restraint and just touch it without permission.”
He frowned at this. “I’d never touch you without asking first.”
Val wrapped her arms around his shoulders, stretching her body so she could feel every one of his hard angles and soft places. “Tonight, you have permission to touch me anywhere you want. Got it?”
“Dammit, Val,” he said before pulling her flush against him and kissing her with a heat that took her by surprise. They were no longer teasing each other as each layer of clothing gave way to their roaming hands and mouths until they were down to their underwear.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Val swallowed at the sight of the thick cluster of blond curls over his well-defined chest, turning caramel-colored in the golden light. They trailed down over his belly, disappearing beneath the elastic of his boxers, which hinted at the tantalizing swell of his erection.