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“I overheard what went down between you and Donahue.”
“I’d rather not re-live that conversation. Not tonight, anyway.” I felt my excitement retreating and my walls going back up. I laid the flowers next to the control box.
His gaze followed my movement, then lifted to meet mine. “I know. And I promise I won’t push. I just wanted to let you know—”
I cut him off. “Linc—”
He held up a hand. “Let me finish.” He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a long blink before he continued. “After hearing what he said andhowhe said it, I started doing a little digging of my own.”
I clutched my hands over my racing heart, physically willing it to calm down. “I really don’t want to do this right now.”
All this time, I’d been running from my ghosts, and here he was, digging up bones. Something churned in my gut. I didn’t know why, but I felt like Lincoln needed answers just as much as I did. It was right there in his voice and in his eyes.
“I know.” He sighed. “I know.” His usually detached voice was full of feeling. “I just thought you should know he’s telling you the truth. He didn’t know she was there. He wasn’t even home that night.”
A torrent of emotion rippled through me, equally happy that Lincoln just solidified my trust in Caspian—not that I’d needed him to—and agitated that we may never know the truth.
“Miss Huntington,” the guy at the control box interrupted my thoughts. “It’s almost time.”
Right.
The ballet.
I shook away the secrets of the past and focused on the present. “You should go sit,” I said to Lincoln.
He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Knock ‘em dead.”
“It’sbreak a…” I shook my head. “Nevermind. Go.” I waved him off, then turned to the guy at the control box. “Let’s do this.”
The house lights dimmed, giving way to the spotlights overhead. The music quieted, and the atmosphere changed. The chatter grew silent as the house curtain slowly opened. The delicate piano notes of the first score trickled through the air as the first dancers tip-toed from the wings.
I took a deep breath.
Here we go.
***
A few hours later, we’d moved from the theater to the ballroom of a hotel across the street. As usual, my mother outdid herself with the party. My cheeks hurt from smiling and thanking all the guests who told me what an amazing performance the ballet had been.
I’d changed into a simple black dress and heels but taken my hair down from the bun to let it fall in dark waves over my shoulders—minus the flower. I didn’t expect Caspian to follow us here. Mom sent out the invitations, and the Donahues, although allies in business, weren’t exactly what my father would considerclose friends and family. It didn’t keep me from looking around for him, though.
Servers walked around with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne while the same band from my graduation party played a new set of modern tunes in classical form. The atmosphere was reminiscent of a wedding reception, with round tables scattered throughout and one rectangular table at the head of the room.
Dad made his way through the crowd and over to me. His face was beaming with pride, and there was a man I’d never seen before at his side. He was young with handsome features. His light eyes were bright against his olive skin, and dark hair smattered his sharp jaw.
“Beautiful performance, as always,” Dad said as he kissed my cheek. His grin widened, and his gaze shifted to the other man. “I’d like you to meet Prince Khalid Falih, from Saudi Arabia.”
A sense of unease gripped me in a chokehold and made my skin prickle, but I smiled because it was what I’d been taught to do. “Nice to meet you, Your Highness. Thank you for coming.”
Khalid took my hand and brought it to his mouth. His eyes held mine. “I assure you, the pleasure is mine.”
Loud voices sounded from somewhere just outside the ballroom my mother had reserved for the evening, and my father’s gaze moved over my shoulder to the source of the commotion.
His eyes darkened and narrowed. “Excuse me for a moment.”
I moved to follow, but he let out a deep breath and clapped my shoulder. “Nothing for you to worry about, dear. Why don’t you and Khalid go ahead and have a seat at our table?”
Our table?
