Tonight’s clothes were already picked out, in fact, and the moment he was off the phone with his father, he went into his bedroom to get dressed. It felt good to pull on his perfectly tailored suit—it was the antidote to that discussion with his father, in which he had felt as if all his flaws were under a microscope. He might not be the son his father had always wanted, he reflected, but he looked damn good in a suit, and he knew it.
Elijah turned back and forth in front of his full-length mirror, trying to prepare for what his father would have to say about his appearance. He’d like the suit, of course, but he would have a problem with Elijah’s hair. It was dark blond, and Elijah kept it a little longer than his chin and didn’t get it cut regularly. His father hated that.You look like a surfer,he would complain.
Elijah had no problem at all with looking like a surfer. It was a cool look. But a guy did start to get tired of seeing his father’s face fall slightly every time he looked Elijah’s way. He clearly had hope that one of these days he would come face to face with a brand-new haircut when he saw his son.
If Elijah had had any realistic belief that cutting his hair would make his father proud of him at last, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But Oliver Norcross had never been proud of his son. It seemed unlikely that anything was ever going to change that fact.
With a sigh, Elijah picked up his tie. The tie was his one tiny rebellion tonight, the one thing he was deliberately doing to go against what his father would want from him. It was going tomake everything else bearable. From a distance, no one would notice anything but a plain navy-blue necktie, but when you got up close, you would see a pattern of smiley faces on the tie in a barely-there lighter shade of blue. It was unlikely that anyone would ever see it who wasn’t looking for it. But Elijah knew that it was there, and whenever this party frustrated him too badly, he would be able to look down at it and remind himself that he hadn’t just obeyed orders. He was still Elijah. He still had that hint of defiance in him.
He tied the tie around his neck and looked in the mirror again, taking in the finished product. He did look good. Well put-together. His father wouldn’t be able to find anything to complain about.
And Elijah would do what he’d been asked to do. He would attend the function. He’d clap for his father’s award. And then he would go home.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text. He looked down. As anticipated, the message was from his father.
Your car is pulling up.
He would be early if he left right now, of course, and if it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have done it. But if that was what his father wanted from him, Elijah would go along.
It’s Dad’s big night. I do want it to go well, even though I’m tired of the constant disapproval. I want him to enjoy receiving his award, and I want to support him—in whatever way he needs me to do that.
So for this one night, he wasn’t going to push back. He’d do what his father was asking, and he wouldn’t even complain—or rather, he wouldn’t complain any more than he already had. Heprobably should have buttoned it up a little bit on that phone call.
All that being said, though… maybe there would be a way to enjoy himself tonight.
He couldn’t yet think what it might be, but if there was one thing Elijah Norcross was good at, it was finding the fun. He’d always had that skill, from the time he had been very young. He had known how to go into situations that seemed, on their surface, as if they were going to be boring, and figure out some way to turn them into a good time. He had faith in his ability to do that tonight as well. He didn’t know what it was going to look like yet—but he would figure it out.
With a last look in the mirror and a quick straightening of his hair with his hands, he turned and hurried out the front door to the waiting car.
He slid into the backseat. The driver didn’t speak to him, of course—drivers rarely did. The car simply began to move. Elijah leaned against the window and looked out at the passing city.
It was a warm night. San Valentino was lit up, just starting to come to life. Nightclubs would be getting ready to open. People would be at the beach with coolers of beer and surfboards. Men like him would be out on dates with beautiful women, already fantasizing about what the end of their evening would bring.
And Elijah was stuck attending an awards dinner.
Yes, he could make his own fun wherever he went. And he was sure he would. But, not for the first time, he found himself fantasizing about a different life. One in which he wouldn’t ever have to struggle to find a good time. One in which good timeswould always be abundant, because he would have the freedom to do whatever he wanted to do.
CHAPTER 3
STEPHANIE
“Stephanie Vincent, you say?” The man at the door consulted his list and frowned. “I don’t see that name here. Are you sure you’re supposed to be on the list?”
“Well, not exactly.” Stephanie twinkled. “What I mean is, I should have been included on the list, but I know that I wasn’t. It was an oversight.” She laughed. “These event organizers just have so much to do. I can understand how it happens, but I know it must make your job harder.”
The man eyed her skeptically.
She reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to make more work for you,” she said. “And I’m not going to be any trouble. I won’t even stay long. I really just need to put in an appearance, or my boss will be furious with me. You know how that is. They never understand that little oversights like this aren’t your fault. I’ll be hearing for weeks about how I was supposed to be making connections tonight and I failed to do it.”
The man sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’d like to help you out, Ms. Vincent, but my job is on the line here too.”
“What’s your name?”
“Clive.”
“I won’t tell anyone I saw you, Clive,” she promised. “If anyone questions me, I’ll say I came in the other door.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You know, the guy at that doorisa little arrogant. I guess I wouldn’t mind if he caught some heat.”
