Page 101 of One to Watch

“Can I get you some wine?” he offered.

“Please,” Bea responded, just as Linus called to her, “Bea, come dance with me!”

Asher threw an apologetic look to Bea. “Buddy, Bea just got here, what if we let her sit down for a minute?”

“I love dancing.” Bea made her way past a cameraman to join Linus, but a loud throat-clearing stopped her.

“Ahem.”

Bea turned to see a twelve-year-old standing on the stairs, and she was indeed Asher in miniature: same rigid posture, same black glasses, same vaguely contemptuous expression. If it hadn’t been for her glossy chin-length hair and fringe of dark, thick bangs, Bea could easily have mistaken Gwen for a younger version of her father.

“How soon is dinner?” Gwen asked curtly, looking only at Asher, and deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Bea.

“I’m just finishing up,” Asher said. “Do you want to come down here and join us?”

“No thanks, I have homework.” Gwen turned and retreated up the stairs. “Tell me when it’s ready.”

“Will do,” Asher called after her, but her bedroom door was already shut.

“So, that was Gwen.” Asher smiled as he made his way over to Bea, glass of wine in hand—she gladly took a drink.

“I think she liked me,” Bea joked nervously, hoping this night wasn’t ruined before it had even begun.

Asher kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around.”

Bea leaned against him and tried to relax. If Asher wasn’t freaking out, she certainly didn’t need to. But a few minutes later, when the table was set and ready to go, Gwen still hadn’t come downstairs. Asher shouted for her for the third time, his annoyance starting to show.

“Gwen, come on. We’re eating!”

“I had a worksheet to finish,” she said matter-of-factly as she walked downstairs, but she paused when she hit the ground-floor landing. “What are those?”

She nodded toward the gifts Bea had left on the table in the entryway—Bea got up to retrieve them.

“They’re for us?” Gwen asked.

Linus gasped. “Presents,” he whispered, his eyes growing wide behind his giant glasses.

“I was going to wait until after dinner, but …” Bea made eye contact with Asher, who nodded.

“You can open them now, but quickly. Aren’t you guys as hungry as I am?”

“No!” Linus exclaimed as he tore through the paper on his gift—but Gwen just held hers in silence as she took her seat at the table, making no move to unwrap it.

“Richard Ave-don,” Linus sounded out the name. “Who’s that?”

“It’s pronounced Ah-ve-don,” Bea said gently, opening the oversized book of photos she’d bought for him. “He’s one of the most famous fashion photographers ever. Some of his pictures are even in museums.”

“No way.” Linus turned the pages delicately. “Like the museum you went to with Dad?”

“Exactly.” Bea grinned and caught Asher’s eye. “Your dad told me you really like clothes, like I do. These were some of my favorite pictures when I was your age, so I thought you might like them too.”

Linus gave Bea a tight hug—well, as tight as his tutu would allow—and she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his small frame nestled against her. When she looked up, she saw that Asher was watching them, his eyes full of emotion.

But across the table, Gwen regarded Bea with distaste.

“Did you think this was all you needed to do?” she asked. “You bring us presents, we’ll want you to be our new mother?”

“Gwen!” Asher exclaimed.