He was a Clayworth to his very core, and he wanted Athena.
He slowly mounted the stairs.
CHAPTER
11
Athena’s hand trembled so much she couldn’t get proper hold of the tiny velvet buttons on the dress. She turned around, looked over her shoulder, and tried to see in the mirror why she couldn’t get the darn thing open. If she weren’t aquiver with remorse, embarrassment, and an odd, totally inappropriate excitement, she could get the job done.
I need to get the job done so I can get away from Drew.
Her upper right arm still ached from her efforts to help Drew sail. Straining with every ounce of dexterity she possessed, she managed to get the top three buttons loose.
“Only twenty more to go,” she breathed, exhausted and so tense her body felt on fire. She knew she’d been right to confront him about the past, but she hadn’t known how vulnerable it would make her feel to relive all the old, powerful emotions.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath for courage before opening them again.
In the mirror she saw Drew standing in the doorway.
She gasped and swung toward him, holding the dress to her heaving bosom. “I didn’t hear you knock.”
“I didn’t knock.” Their eyes locked as he clicked the door shut and walked toward her. “Do you need help?”
No, I’ll call the security guard. No, I’ll wear the dress home. No, I…
“Yes. The one other time I wore this dress, it wasn’t as difficult.” Then she remembered there’d been a saleswoman to help. She turned her back to him. “Please. I’m sorry. The buttons are really tiny.”
“I have good hands.”
His fingers were cool and gentle touching her back. She looked pointedly at the floor, trying to ignore her heart pounding against her ribs so hard she hoped he couldn’t hear it.
Please, please don’t let this be another mistake.
Mercifully, he had her unbuttoned in a few minutes. She looked up, just as one shoulder of the black dress slipped, exposing the bruise on her upper arm.
Their eyes met in the mirror when she tried to pull the dress back up.
His hand stopped her. “Did you get this sailing with me?”
Every instinct she possessed warned her to defuse this pulsing sensual tension between them. Tonight too much old emotion kept spewing out like an erupting volcano. Deep inside, she knew only more pain could come of this.
She forced a laugh, and it sounded pathetically fake in her own ears. “Your sailing didn’t give me these bruises. Your boat is the culprit. I think this one looks like a constellation. Quite poetic, since I earned it sailing and sailors once used the stars to navigate.”
His fingers drifted over the bruise, and she shivered despite her best efforts not to respond.
“Ah, yes. This one definitely looks like Betelgeuse. It’s a very prominent star; a right angle off the horizon at early dawn. One of my favorites.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to the aching bruise.
Pleasure melted her limbs, but she knew she needed to stop. She tilted her head back toward him. “Drew, we—”
His lips stopped her, kissing her. So hot, moist, sweet, and luscious, she felt all her good intentions dissolve away.
Little explosions went off in her head. In slow motion to draw out the pleasure, she turned so he could slide his hands inside the dress to span her naked waist with his fingers. He pulled her into him, and the dress slid down her arms.
He nuzzled her breasts, moving closer and closer to the sensitive, aching nipples, and she clung to him, barely able to stand.
The knock on the door struck like a lightning bolt, tearing them apart. Drew’s eyes were a spectacle of light and blue like nothing she’d ever seen.
“Miss Smith, it’s Leonard. Is everything all right?”
Clutching the dress bodice up across her scorching breasts, she trembled, hardly able to take in a breath for the ache in her chest.
She backed toward the door and caught one heel on the train, stumbling. Drew reached out to catch her.
Burning up with embarrassment, with regret, with a million reasons why this shouldn’t have happened, she couldn’t look at him. She opened the door just enough to peek around. Leonard’s grizzled face appeared pinched with concern.
“Hi, Leonard. I’m working late. That’s all.” She forced her voice not to betray her breathless shaking.
“Needed to check. Saw your Jeep and Mr. Clayworth’s silver Porsche in the executive parking lot.”
“Yes. Mr. Clayworth is here discussing a new exhibit. He’ll be leaving now. And I’ll be going shortly.”
“Fine.” Leonard nodded. “Take your time. I’ll be downstairs at the back entrance to let you both out.”
She clicked the door shut and stood staring at it. Her grip on the dress cramped her fingers. “Please go, Drew,” she whispered, ready to burst into loud, unattractive tears.
“Athena, look at me.” He sounded like her Drew. Not the sweet, seductive voice he’d used tonight from the instant she opened the door to him. It brought back so many memories of their youth, when being with him, listening to him, made her believe the myths of undying love and heroes and Olympus-like passion were at her fingertips.
Pride and anger and the remnants of an unshakeable dignity handed down by her mother gave Athena the courage to turn and face him.
His eyes were larger, softer. “We need to talk about this.”
This! My wanting to have sex with you in my office. Like the oversexed teenager I used to be! My God, I’ve never gotten over you, and it took me fifteen years to realize what’s wrong with me.
Old pain roared back to life. She would brazen it out. “Obviously, tonight I’ve experienced a residual reaction from the toxins. Otherwise none of this would have happened.”
“Possibly,” he said with a little smile, but she could see the mockery flickering through his eyes. “I repeat. We need to talk. Go sailing with me again. This Sunday at Belmont. Five o’clock.”
She’d never felt so trapped by her own feelings. She wanted to be with him, explore these feelings she’d had forever. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Long ago he’d said he’d never forgive her, and his actions had made her believe him.
“Drew, this is ridiculously embarrassing for both of us. Let’s forget tonight ever happened and go on our merry way like we have for the last fifteen years. We have nothing further to discuss except for the lost Bertha Palmer dresses.”
And my father. And all these conflicting feelings I’m afraid will never go away.
“To hell with Bertha’s gowns. You know what we need to figure out. Are you brave enough to do it?”
It had always been a mistake to look into his eyes when he wanted something, but she had a lifetime of making the wrong choices with him under her belt. For generations it had been said the Clayworths always got what they wanted.
“Are you brave enough?” he repeated. “What have you got to lose by meeting me?”
My heart!
But in a public place and on his boat the size of a large bathtub, she would be safe enough from making a bigger fool out of herself.
She flung up her chin. “I’m brave enough. Sunday. Five p.m. Belmont Harbor.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He walked out with a saunter that looked way too confident.
Of course she knew it had to be her imagination, but she heard an echo of laughter in the room. She looked up at the heavy moldings, and the carvings really did look like faces. Dread and excitement mingled into an absolute certainty that she’d played right into fate’s nimble fingers, and it terrified her. But she’d be there Sunday night to defy fate once again.
CHAPTER
12
On Thursday, Drew stared down at a stack of files on his desk, a slew of e-mails he needed to answer from the crew who would race in the Fastnet with him, and a list of calls to be made to the last three museum trustees
, confirming their positive votes for the scholarship fund. None of it went as smoothly or quickly as it should have.
How could it when every few minutes he glanced at the clock, counting down the hours until Sunday. And Athena kept flashing before his eyes. Athena laughing… dancing… singing. He chuckled every time he thought of her off-key warbling.
He forced himself not to dwell on Athena in his arms. The taste of her mouth and skin on his lips.
He needed to go slow. Get used to the idea she’d betrayed him out of love.
There, I’ve used the word. She thought she loved me.
God knew he’d thought the same about her.
What would have happened if she hadn’t told his uncle about his plan to leave college and go sail in the Fastnet? What would have happened if his family hadn’t stopped him with their power and his own sense of what he owed them and his name? What would have happened if he hadn’t shut Athena out?
He wanted time to find out. Time to get over the past. Time and distance between them and the trouble with her father.
But time stopped for no man. He’d learned that a long time ago.
Time seemed to be moving in slow motion. But at last Saturday dawned. Today, like every day since the night in the museum, Athena found it hard to think of anything except Drew, and her head filled with visions of what might happen tomorrow that made her blush.
Bertha’s toxic boning appeared to be having a lasting effect on Athena. Like Penelope realizing she wanted her ex-husband back, and Shelby wanting to reclaim her love of eating and cooking, Athena wanted Drew. She tried to concentrate on Bertha’s two dresses, successfully decontaminated, boning replaced, safe and ready for the exhibit. She tried not to think about the remaining two dresses and what might be their fate. The trail had gone cold for her. And by all reports Ed’s investigation had come up empty.
Thankfully, today she needed to be at Pandora’s Box. Wanted to be there to help Venus, who managed the store alone Tuesday through Friday.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the store’s glass window and stopped.
I look different. More alive.
To compose herself before her inquisitive sisters saw her altered state, she bought time by studying the window display. All pure Diana. Elegant but whimsical. A mannequin, wearing a lavender French lace 1940s peignoir and matching nightgown perched at a dark mahogany dressing table with a large center mirror and two smaller ones. Beautiful perfume bottles, a large compact with a heart picked out in red crystals, and a party invitation for a Service Club of Chicago Black Tie Ball lay on the table. Beside the dresser stood a mannequin in a 1947 Dior New Look black and white checked evening gown with an underskirt of tulle and bodice of black cotton lace. On the other side, the third mannequin, in a pale blue 1950s organza dress, fitted at the waist and bordered in bands of pink and yellow flowers, lounged on a slipper chair. They looked like they were talking, gossiping together before they went off to a fabulous black tie affair. Just as she so often did with her sisters.
Taking a long, deep breath, Athena strolled in, ready with answers when her sisters reacted.
The store glistened brighter than ever this morning, like it had been polished to perfection. The ivory satin Valentino gown and matching long coat looked exquisite on the mannequin, welcoming everyone in.
Venus looked up from arranging pieces of jewelry on the round table in the center of the room. Her eyes widened, stretching at the corners.
“Thank God! You got rid of those hideous glasses.” Her mock shudder was so over-the-top dramatic, Athena laughed.
Diana rushed through the arch from the other room. “Welcome back, Athena. We’ve missed you.”
“I just took off my dark glasses.”
It is so much more.
Feeling guilty, she hugged Diana. In her entire life she’d kept only three secrets from her sisters, and Drew had been the first, and now he was here again.
“I’m glad our old fearless leader is back.” Diana pulled away and looked up at her. “We need you. Dad called before you came in, and I let it slip about the robbery and Bertha’s gown making you sick. He’s upset.”
Venus tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Diana, I told you not to say anything about what Dad told us until later.”
Fear cooled all the lustful fantasies about Drew.
Did Dad say something about why he’s staying away or about his troubles with the Clayworths?
She didn’t want to wait. She needed to know the worst now.
She’d heard the worry in Diana’s voice and saw the secretive glance between her sisters.
“Tell me now,” she demanded.
The shop door opened with its little musical jingle as two women drifted in.
“We’ll tell you later,” Diana muttered, heading toward the younger woman wandering into the hat and accessories room. Venus turned to the other woman gazing enraptured at the jewelry table.
Athena slipped into the small alcove and dropped her Burberry tote and tried to dump her worry. The jingle of the door opening again sent her back out into the store with no time to brood.
Within an hour, Pandora’s Box buzzed with women and one man who came, terror in his eyes, to look for an anniversary present. Half an hour later he left beaming, swinging a gift bag that contained a one-of-a-kind French Art Nouveau brass and black onyx demi-parure necklace and earrings.
Late in the afternoon, only three customers remained sitting in front of the triple mirrored vanity trying on evening hats, little black concoctions of satin and silk, some lined in red, all with whimsical feathers, netting, bows, and French paste ornaments. Athena heard them all laughing as Diana showed them how to wear the hats tilted just so over one eye.
Athena burned to know what Dad had told them. Restless, trying to hide her impatience, she drifted back to the office to check her e-mails. Maybe Dad had contacted her. His usual form of communication. E-mails. No body language. No voice inflections. Nothing to give himself away. Nothing to give her a clue to why he shut her out.
Her iPhone vibrated beside her. Dad’s number. Like she’d somehow willed him to call. Or the old bond they shared had been somehow reconnected and he knew she was thinking about him.
For an instant she thought of not answering.
Not today. I don’t want to think about Dad and what might have happened with the Clayworths.
She wanted to kick sand in the Fates’ faces. Blind them for a second so she could run away again.
No, I’m done hiding.
“Hi, Dad. What a nice surprise.” She actually sounded surprised, pleased she could still hide her confusion.
“I missed you earlier. You should have told me about the robbery and about being sick.” The note of worry in his voice made her feel so guilty she felt tears pool in her eyes.
I should have called him.
“I’m fine. Really. I didn’t want to worry you. Everything’s good now. We’ve found two of the Bertha gowns.” Even she could detect the strain in her voice now.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Something’s wrong. I hear it in your voice.”
“No, I’m great. Really. Fine. Honestly.”
“This robbery and your illness change things. It’s time I came home.”
What will that mean for Drew and me?
She felt like a selfish pig. This shouldn’t be about her and Drew. This should be about her Dad and figuring out what had gone wrong for him at Clayworth’s. But part of her knew this was another barrier, keeping her away from Drew. She tried to hide it.
“Great, Dad. I look forward to seeing you.”
“You don’t sound like you mean that, Athena.” The crisp, hurt tone in his voice couldn’t be missed.
She didn’t, and the guilt gnawed a hole in her stomach. “Really, we’ll all be happy to see you.” The little bell, jingling once more as the door opened, saved her.
“I’m sorry, Dad. Customer.”
“Go. I’ll be in touch. Soon.”
She shut her eyes, her heart pounding like a hammer against her ribs.
Why does it feel as if my life is rushing to some grand exposé of lies, love, and larceny?
Refusing to give the Fates the upper hand, she marched into the main room of the store to find a tall woman with a long, solemn face shifting through the evening clothes.
“Hi, I’m Athena Smith. May I help you?”
The woman glanced up and smiled. Athena was startled at how pretty she looked with her eyes crinkled, her mouth curled deeply at the corners and dimples denting each cheek.
“Hello, I’m Dottie Crawford. I saw you and the shop on Talk of the Town. I never miss Rebecca’s show or column.” She glanced around. “As usual, Rebecca’s right. This is so beautiful and unique. She said it was the perfect place to find a wedding dress.”
Athena figured Dottie to be in her late forties, early fifties. Second wedding? She gestured toward the mannequin. “This is the Valentino dress Rebecca liked.”
The woman shook her head, her low ponytail swishing across her back, but Athena saw longing in her eyes. “No, no, too grand for me.”
“You have the height and figure to carry this gown off.”
Dottie ran her fingertips over one rhinestone-encrusted sleeve. “It’s beautiful, but it’s my fiancée’s second wedding and we’re trying to keep it simple.” She blushed, and the color made little gold flecks show in her brown eyes. “It’s my first wedding, so Fred thinks we should do it up a little.”
“Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”
Blushing again, Dottie laughed. “Two weeks.”
“Two weeks! We need to get started.” Athena went through the long gowns and pulled out two. A Malcolm Starr and a Lilli Diamond. “Let’s try these.”
While Dottie changed behind the rich brown velvet curtain, the other three customers left, each carrying a small hatbox.
Dottie came out in the first gown and studied herself in front of the large gilt-edged mirror. The Empire bodice studded with prong-set diamantes suited Dottie, and the candlelight ivory duchesse satin skirt of the Starr gown swished perfectly at the bottom.
A Black Tie Affair Page 12
