Chapter thirty-four
Despite living upstairs, Halley was late to the party. Alicia had taken much longer to settle than she had planned upon. Typical, she thought, as she rounded the final bend in the stairs and started down the last flight; the one night she got to dress up and play with other adults, her sweet daughter chose the same night to behave like a little martinet, screaming her head off and not going to sleep until she’d worn herself out with crying.
She knew that she could have passed Alicia off to the nannies –both competent and kind women, but she didn’t care to burden someone else with her responsibilities. So, here she was an hour late and rushing to get downstairs when she should have been able to saunter down at her leisure and make her grand entrance. After all, she thought, a dress like the one she was wearing deserved a decent moment of its own in the spotlight.
Unfortunately, in her rush to make up for lost time, she had eschewed the safety of holding onto the banister in favour of a swifter descent down the last few stairs. She was going far too fast, running her left hand along the newly painted wall in an effort to remain upright when one of the spiked heels of her evening sandals caught in the trailing hem of her ivory-coloured gown, sending her diving headlong towards the floor below.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall where he could see but remain for the most part, unseen by others, Gabriel’s good friend and reluctant party guest, Mason, was staring into his champagne glass, wondering if he should get another or perhaps go in search of some more substantial food than the girly nibbles that were constantly being waved in front of his face by attentive wait-staff. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked bite-sized morsels topped with extortionately expensive fish eggs –right now he would have preferred a solid cheeseburger and fries.
He felt rather than a blur of pale fabric pass in front of him –dropping the champagne flute he instinctively put out both arms and caught whoever it was that was going by in such a rush. As his arms closed around her, putting an immediate halt to her downward flight, he was rewarded by a waft of the heady fragrance she wore –something exotic and spicy and redolent of a warm oriental dusk. There had been a time, not long past when he would have enjoyed the moment, but that had gone by the by. Now, he was just plain irritated that he had a woman in his arms when he had expressly not ordered one and had been at some pains all evening to stay out of their way. …all he’d wanted was a cheeseburger!
All Halley heard was glass shattering as she felt strong muscular arms go around her –stopping what she had been sure was going to be a nasty fall She’d barely had time to gasp before this white knight had caught her. Catching her breath, she turned to see who her saviour had been, wanting to thank him.
“Ever think of holding onto the handrail?” the surly tone and grim face of her benefactor made her think twice before she became too effusive with her praise.
“Um –Sorry about that, I’m late. I was in a hurry,” she started to explain but he gave her no time to expand her explanation of why she had been tardy.
“Long dress, ice-pick heels. Not really a clever combination on stairs.” He set her back on her feet, righting her once more when she would have stumbled, as he looked her over with lazy nonchalance from top to toe. “You don’t look blond, but maybe it’s hidden under hair-dye.” He gave her a narrow-eyed stare, “Or maybe you’ve been drinking.” He sure as hell had been –how was anyone supposed to get through one of these shindigs without alcohol?
Whew. Was the ‘blond’ reference him just calling her stupid? He might be drop-dead gorgeous but he was mean, Halley rapidly deduced. She was close enough to smell a whiff of alcohol on his breath. Maybe he was one of those mean drunks? Darcy’s ex was a mean drunk, ergo, she hated all mean drunks. All intentions of politely saying ‘thank you’ were instantaneously wiped from her mind.
“What?” she spluttered indignantly. “Who the hell would have hair like this if it wasn’t their real hair?” She rose to her full height, five foot eight plus several inches of heel, straightening her shoulders and fairly bristling at the insult. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed that even with the heels, he could still look her straight in the eye.
“Hair like what?” her hair looked fine to him. It was raven-dark and sleekly styled into a low bun at her neck. She was in the act of taking a step backwards when his hand shot out to stop her.
“Let go!” she hissed, angry now. “You obviously haven’t seen me on a normal day.” It had taken hours of torture by the stylist to coerce her hair into its present style. Why was she even bothering to tell him this? She didn’t know. She tugged at his hand with hers. It was like an immoveable slab of rock.
“Broken glass right behind you,” he dropped her hand as he said the words. “But by all means step in it if you wish.”
She looked around at the shattered glass of his champagne flute on the floor –he’d saved her from possibly slicing open a toe –the second time in as many minutes that he’d kept her from harm. But he was still quite horrible with it. She took a deep breath, determined to remember her manners and say a polite thank you this time, before she skedaddled and got as far away from him as she could.
“Bonsoir Halley. Mason.” The voice belonged to Gabriel, the gorgeous, not so old after all, French dish who was her BFF’s boss and new fiancé. “What’s this broken glass doing here?” Gabriel didn’t wait for an explanation. “We should get someone to clean that up.” He signalled one of the wait-staff who nodded and went to find a brush and pan. Gabriel turned back to the pair, unaware of hostilities, “You are looking quite splendid this evening Halley –what a lovely gown.”
“Thank you Gabriel, it’s nice that someone noticed,” Halley couldn’t resist a dig at her current companion, returning his earlier slit-eyed stare.
Gabriel glanced from one face to the other –neither looked at all pleased and he caught the vibe that all was not well between the two.
Halley carried on speaking as if Mason was not present, “I like to think of it as sort of Pocahontas meets Maid Marian.” Mindful of the glass on the floor, she did a single in-situ twirl. The dress did, after all, still deserve a moment in the spotlight to be shown off. Brightly coloured turquoise, ivory, lime and pale jade-green beading encircled the neckline and cap sleeves of the diaphanous fabric above a simple sweet-heart neckline and fitted bodice of ivory silk. A matching beaded accent ran around the band that accentuated her elegantly slim waist before the sweep of ivory silk fell to the floor.
“Very nice too,” Gabriel approved. “And I see a touch of Queen Makeda along with Pocahontas and Maid Marian.” At Halley’s appreciative smile at his reference to the legendary Queen of Sheba he added, remembering what he had come to say, “Darcy’s been looking everywhere for you. She was becoming concerned that something must have gone wrong.”
“I got way-laid. Alicia wouldn’t go down and I didn’t like to leave her so grizzly with the nannies.”
“That is their job,” Gabriel gently reminded.
“I know, I know. I guess I’m not too used to having someone else that’s competent who could look after her instead of me.”
“Pas de problème, you’re here now, that’s all that matters. “Would you like a drink? I see Mason has forgotten his manners and not offered you one.”
“Hmpf,” Mason’s voice broke in gruffly, “if anyone was getting a drink for someone else, she should be getting one for me. That was mine on the floor.” While they had been talking, the glass shards had been swept up and removed.
“Ever the gentleman,” Gabriel eyed his old friend. Something was obviously amiss between these two but he couldn’t see how that could be. They’d barely had time to meet one another. He wondered what could have happened to turn them into warring factions in such a short time.
Darcy would not be pleased –she had been hoping that her and Gabriel’s closest friends would get along amicably, especially since they would be living within a stone’s
throw of one another.
“I was intending to introduce you formally later Halley, but I see you’ve already met your soon-to-be new neighbour and my best buddy from New York, Mason.”
“What?” Halley was aghast. No. Surely this man was not the one who would be moving into the dovecote once it was renovated? He couldn’t be going to live anywhere within a hundred mile radius of her and Alicia. What if his malignant bad temper was catching? “Um, I have to go find Darcy,” she didn’t even try to sound polite this time, choosing to beat a hasty retreat in search of her friend.
Gabriel watched her go then turned to his long-time friend, eyebrow raised in query. “I see your bedside manner with the ladies is in as good a form as ever,” he spoke dryly.
“That’s what happens to me when I get fed overpriced fish roe and tiddly little quail eggs,” Mason spat back touchily. “It brings out the beast in me.” He looked hopeful. “You got any real food for a real man in this poncy palace of yours?”
“Poncy palace?” Gabriel shook his head despairingly, “Really –that’s the best you can do? Alliteration does not become you, old buddy,” he laughed shortly. “And you forget, I know where you come from, ‘real man’.” Mason’s Boston family delighted in being able to trace their lineage back to European royalty, something Mason was normally at pains to ignore or downplay. “Still, if expensive caviar and quail’s eggs bring out your inner hulk perhaps we can do better with some meat patties, mayonnaise and white bread downstairs.”
“And a beer,” Mason figured he was owed one after the loss of his last drink.
“You’re pathetic. Come with me.” Gabriel flung an arm companionably over Mason’s shoulders and the two went off in the direction of the sub-basement stairs. As they moved along the hall Gabriel’s voice drifted back, “I’m sure Darcy will be busy for a few minutes calming down Halley and talking her out of leaving on the next train to Paris now she’s met you, so I might as well join you for that beer. Perhaps while we’re drinking it I can give you some lessons in how to talk to women so you won’t scare her away next time.”
“Huh. In your dreams, Lothario, I know more about women than you ever will. Besides, you’re snagged now buster, so that’s the end of your education. I have years to improve my game, not that it needs it.” Not that he cared.
“Well I’m not unhappy about being out of the game but you’re tempting fate by putting that thought out there man. Famous last words,” Gabriel’s laugh was cut off by the hall doors swinging shut behind them.
Collecting Thoughts Page 34
