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Bastian walked them towards a couple with his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The man, Paula saw as they approached, was very tall and strikingly handsome, with hardly any gray in his hair. The woman was an icy blonde in a pale blue satin evening gown.
She could not believe it. If they’d tried any harder, they could not have blended into the sterile, ice-themed decorations better.
“Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet Paula Raymond. Paula, these are my parents, Belinda and Art Spencer.” Paula waited for him to say more about who she was, but he didn’t.
His parents turned to Paula with a warmth that disconcerted her. “Ms. Raymond, how lovely. Bastian is always bringing home such fascinating people. Just last year we hosted a lovely couple from St. Croix. Welcome to our home.”
Paula smiled back at Belinda and noticed Bastian’s fingers tightening. She could have told him Belinda’slovely couple from St. Croixgambit was abrasive but not really a surprise. “Thanks. It’s great to meet you.”
Art said smoothly, “Are you a local or visiting our magnificent city?”
“Oh, I live here in New Highland.” Since Bastian didn’t seem inclined to fill them in, she went ahead and did so. “Actually, I’m a neighbor of your son’s.” The hand at her back tightened again, and she shot Bastian a curious glance. Was this a bad share? His expression was impassive, directed at his mother.
“Oh, are you?” she said. “Then…”
“The condo,” Bastian said in a clipped tone.
“Ah, of course, of course. So many people rent out their condos, isn’t that nice? I gather you must be new to town, Ms. Raymond?”
“Actually, I’ve been here a few years. School brought me, and I liked it, so I stayed on after graduation.”
Paula heard between the lines; Belinda was hinting around for her financial and social ranking. She had the urge to explain that the degree in question was a double masters in computer science and mathematics and achieved in just one year, before most people her age had graduated college. That she’d been on a PhD track when she re-routed to work for TineeSoft.
She resisted the compulsion with irritation. She wasn’t competing for position here. The stress of the neverending scramble to prove herself was exactly why she’d withdrawn from the rat race in the first place.
“Oh, how nice. Well, I certainly hope you enjoy yourself tonight.” Belinda’s eyes flickered to Bastian, then back at Paula. “We were lucky enough to convince the head chef at Emmender’s to cater our humble event tonight. Don’t you love Emmender’s, Ms. Raymond?”
“I’ve never been,” Paula said cheerfully, pretty sure she knew what Belinda Spencer was doing—drawing a class line.
She was aware of Bastian frowning down at her, as if he were surprised. Perhaps he was so spoiled he didn’t realize that Emmender’s was not a common dining experience. The five star restaurant was the most expensive place to eat within hundreds of miles, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most people.
Belinda definitely knew. She quirked a brow. “Oh, my dear, Emmender’s is a New Highland landmark. It’s the only place to eat if you appreciate good food and mingling with the city’s most contributing residents. You simply must go.”
She heard Bastian draw a deep breath. “Mother—”
“Maybe one day I will, if I get a chance.” Paula said calmly at the same time.
Belinda’s eyes narrowed. “Do your parents have connections to the city, dear?”
“No, they live in Seattle. The wet side of Washington,” she joked.
“We have family in Sammamish,” Belinda said, and Paula recognized the name of the wealthy town near Seattle. “And where is it that you work, dear?”
Her inner imp raised its devilish head. “Well, now, I don’t exactly have an employer at the moment...”
“Oh, are you a business owner? How enterprising.”
“I don’t own a business,” Paula said sweetly. “I do freelance work.”
“Oh, I see. How interesting.” Belinda’s gaze swept up and down Paula. She turned to her son, and Paula felt assessed, sorted, and dismissed. “You’re late, Sebastian. We expected you hours ago.”
He was silent, staring at his mother with a stony expression. None of the trio, she suddenly realized, had so much as touched each other in greeting. No hug, no hand-shaking, not even an air kiss.
“You missed the children’s concert,” the older woman added coolly.
Bastian’s answering tone was wooden. “We had a late lunch.”
“That was bad planning on your part.” Paula was taken aback by Bastian’s father inserting himself here to berate him openly in a clipped, gruff voice. In front of his date!
