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“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she began. She ran a hand through her windswept curls, that seemed at odds with her severe white pantsuit. “I’ll just go.”
To my surprise, Lorelei blushed and stammered, “No, please. We, um, were done with this conversation. You can have my seat.”
“Well, I came to speak with you, Lorelei. But… perhaps I could walk you to dinner?” Anne-Marie held her hand out, and Lorelei took it. At that very moment, the setting sun sent a ray of golden light through the upper windows of the bar, illuminating both their faces.
I hadn’t ever seen my sister’s eyes as bright and joy-filled as they were at that moment. She was mesmerized by the alpha. And Anne-Marie looked like she’d just discovered her greatest dream come true, in Lorelei’s smile. “Shall we?”
“I’d like that.” My sister gave me a wide-eyed look as Anne-Marie escorted her from the bar. “G? Go ahead and send me the video. And thank you.”
And then they were gone.
I poured myself another drink, then went to dinner. I wasn’t sure how Lorelei would handle Alphonse’s indiscretions, but I had a feeling she would have help drying her tears.
* * *
“Uncle G!” Sylvia greeted me at the door to the dining room, and grabbed my hand tightly.
“Excuse me, young lady. I’m not sure we’ve been introduced. I’m Giovanni Grantham.” I stroked my chin, peering down at Sylvia, who was wearing a fluffy lavender dress and a frown.
“I don’t have time for teasing, and I’m still mad at you for being so mean to Soleil. But I need to tell you about something,” she said, pulling me down to her ear. “It’s an emergency, about Mom’s fiancé.”
“Soon to be ex-fiancé,” I whispered, just as the man in question walked into the dining room, a few feet ahead of the wedding planner, who shot him a very intimate look before she went to her table. How could Lorelei not have seen it all along?
Love really was blind.
“Come tell me about your day, Sylvia,” Alphonse said, ignoring me as he pulled out Sylvia’s chair.
“I’m going to sit with my friends,” she replied. “At the kids’ table.”
“The kids’ table?” I muttered. “Since when are the children seated separately? But good idea. See if you can snag me a chair; I’ll change into a diaper and a onesie if I have to.”Her frightened smile tugged at my protective instincts, and I leaned down, hugging her close. “Stay as far from Alphonse as you can. I’ll catch you up later. Stick with the au pair, okay?”
“Nah,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll stay with my betasitter.”
“Your—” At that moment, the soft elevator music shifted inexplicably to steel drums, the air filled with the perfume of a thousand tropical flowers, and the sun rose inside the dining room.
Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.
Soleil stood inside the dining room door, chatting with my CFO Yvette, seemingly unaware that every eye in the place was on her. I wasn’t sure anyone could look away.
I knew I couldn’t.
Tonight, she was dressed in a wild assortment of colors. She had on a fuchsia silk top with small golden padlocks down the center in place of buttons, and a bright purple miniskirt that stopped an inch below her crotch, if that. At the bottoms of her shapely legs, she wore what had to be five-inch red high heels. In one hand, she gripped a small purse that had tiny charms shaped like keys trailing down from one handle.
Shit.Were they the keys to the locks down her front? I’d never been so turned on, incensed, and amused before.
Slowly, the occupants of the dining room started talking again, many of them calling out to greet Soleil as she teetered on those ridiculous shoes over to what I assumed was the children’s table.
One of my sister’s friends approached me, initially asking about the wedding but quickly segueing into a subtle promotion of a new product his company was bringing to market. I nodded, pretending to listen, but my eyes were on my omega.
Everyone loved her, and for no reason other than that she was herself. She was probably one of the least affluent people in the room, but I watched as a half-dozen social climbers scrambled out of their chairs to go and chat with her. Complimenting her outfit, when almost every one of the other women wore some version of a little black or white dress by a designer who was a household name: Versace, Balenciaga, Dolce & Gabbana. I wondered how many of them would be on the phone to their designers within an hour of dinner, asking for something like hers.
But her clothing wasn’t what made everyone want to be near her. She personified her name. She was sunlight, and warmth, and when you were in her presence, she was the only thing you could see.
But she wasn’t looking at me. She didn’t see me, didn’t want me. She was glad I’d told her to stay away… and then she’d disobeyed me when I demanded she remain in her cabin.
Naughty Sunshine. I stared at her as she flitted like a butterfly, her face carefully angled away from me. Obviously aware of where I stood, and just as obviously intent on not making eye contact. Her cheeks were turning that perfect shade of pink, though, and I knew why.
The head waiter cleared his throat by my side. “The first course is ready, sir, and cannot be delayed. Is your sister dining with us tonight?”
