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Perhaps I was being a tad dramatic, but it shouldn’t have been so hard to find an outfit.
I thought of my siblings often, but more so when I was stressed over social engagements.
Would my sister have been able to find the perfect little black dress? Would my brother have been the one our father wanted at his side at parties? Would my mother have stood up to my father about the ridiculous outfits and restrictions he set for his daughter?
I added those questions and too many more to the bottomless pit where I kept the rest of my memories.
Missing them came in waves, even all these years later.
On Friday evening, as I dressed, I thought back to the last party my parents had thrown. Our mother and father had been on the phone all day. My siblings and I had been dressed up and shuffled around by our mother, who took each compliment about our appearances or gentle natures and attributed them to our father’s hand in raising us.
When the ghost of my family had quieted and my hair was perfectly starched, I headed downstairs to where my father and Becky were waiting. I was quickly sent to welcome guests as they arrived.
“You look lovely tonight,” said a faceless, balding man with a younger woman on his arm.
“Thank you, and welcome,” I answered and directed them and another two couples into the house. “My father is so pleased you could make it this evening. He is in the living room.”
After what felt like hours later, I was relieved of my duty and was free to roam around until I could genuinely say I had met every guest and could slip out without being noticed.
Becky and my father cornered diplomat after diplomat in the living room, their toothy smiles plastered on their faces as they schmoozed. I had no choice but to mingle and would never get away with hiding upstairs in one of the guest rooms. Becky had made sure they were all locked after I’d gone missing at a party and my father had given a toast to his family. I hadn’t been there to look misty-eyed.
A round-faced CEO of a banking firm cornered me near the finger foods. I was ten minutes into listening to him tell me the current stock rates when a man caught my eye.
Actually, two men.
I knew one was Oro, a business associate of my father’s. Oromade my skin crawl and vibrate all at once. The way he looked me up and down felt thick and slimy.
“I’ll be seeing you,” he had said in his deep, gravelly voice the last time I saw him. Then he’d shared a knowing look with my father that set every one of my hairs on end.
Now, he was standing with a man who looked as if he had been carved from marble by the gods. His dark hair was teased and gelled to the side. Not one strand looked like it dared to be out of place.
The short stubble on his jaw darkened his features, but his sapphire eyes blazed from across the room to me.
No.
Through me.
This beautiful man couldn’t have been looking at me.
The room around me went still in the lifetime I spent staring back into his depths. But when he looked away, back at Oro, my stomach dropped, and I was forced to swallow down the disappointed whimper that had amassed in my chest.
7
STOLAS
“Evie, there you are. I was just looking for your father.” Orobas’ toothy grin affronted the young woman he had pointed out as my poker-night prize.
The curtain of her party smile slipped for the briefest of moments when she saw who had called her name. Orobas didn’t acknowledge the momentary loss of her hostess persona and drove forward on his mission to introduce me to her.
“Oro, good evening,” she answered and peered through the crowd for her father. “I just saw him with the CEO of Solar Star.”
Orobas and I knew better.
Harris Gerhardt was upstairs with the head of his young wife between his legs for a quickie. The self-serving cad would be done any moment. The thrill of a house full of guests was too much.
“I’m sure he’ll find us in a moment. Busy man, your father.” Orobas turned to me, his smile devious before he looked back at her. “This is my brother and business partner. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the senator’s daughter Evie.”
“It’s nice to meet you . . .” She politely waited for a name to use.
