She should have been suspicious when Billie didn't provide her usual preview fashion show. Calder had been too occupied with more important things to worry about her mother's wardrobe choices. She simply assumed like all the guests, Billie would follow the guidelines in the invitation.
In keeping with the season and theme of this year's Spring Romance Gala, we request the women wear color. Something bright and festive. The men are asked to eschew the traditional all-black tuxedo for a white dinner jacket.
Be bold. Be creative. And most of all, have fun.
Calder didn't expect everyone to get in the spirit of the evening. However, she'd hoped her own mother would, for once, play along.
"I'm almost positive she can read," Calder muttered. "Yet, my eyes don't lie. A black dress? Is she serious?"
And not just any black dress. Short, sequined, and cut down to her bellybutton, Billie glittered—quite literally. A diamond tiara. Diamond earrings. Diamonds on her fingers. Even the heels of her shoes were bedazzled. Yikes!
"Hard to tell with Billie. However, black is a dead-serious color."
Destry's attempt at a joke did the trick. Calder looked inside and found her anti-Billie zone.
"Are you angry? You are. I am sorry, darling."
Billie didn't look nearly as contrite as her tone implied.
Out of the side of her mouth, Destry muttered, "If she were sorry, she wouldn't have dressed like a hooker in mourning."
Andi covered her laugh with a cough. With a warning look at Destry, she sent Billie her best fake smile.
"You look… sparkly."
"Don't I?" Billie did a graceful twirl. "I planned to wear one of your lovely designs, Andi. Honestly. Family solidarity, and so forth. Did I offend you?"
"Not at all. In fact, I insist you tell everyone. I wouldn't want to take credit for another designer's work."
Calder chuckled. Andi would be horrified if anybody thought Billie's dress came from one of her collections.
"Black really is my color, as Ingo so wisely pointed out. He surprised me with the dress as I was getting ready." Billie let out a girlish giggle. "Isn't he thoughtful?"
"He's something." Exactly what, Calder hadn't decided.
"I left Ingo with a business associate." Billie flirted with the waiter as he handed her a glass. "He should be along any second."
No, thank you. The less Calder had to deal with Billie's boyfriend, the better.
"If you'll excuse me. I've neglected my hosting duties for too long."
The months spent in preparation for tonight meant Calder had little to do. The gala was in full swing. The music, a group of musicians who specialized in the nineteen-forties big band era sound, was the perfect impetus to get couples out on the dance floor.
Trusted staff members were strategically located throughout the ballroom. Their jobs were to ensure the waiters kept the hors d'oeuvre trays filled and the drinks flowing. Security, stationed at all the doors, had two main functions. To make certain no one was admitted without an invitation. And, as discreetly as possible, take care of any guests who might become a bit too rowdy.
Calder's job was to greet and charm. The equation was simple. Happy party goers equaled bigger donations.
As she worked the room, smiling, shaking hands, Calder wondered why she hadn't caught sight of Adam. He said he'd be here. Unless he changed his mind. Suddenly, she felt lightheaded. Breathe, she reminded herself. Don't forget to breathe.
The last thing Calder wanted to do was faint in the middle of the crowded ballroom. Before the evening was over, gossip would either have her pregnant or dying. Maybe both.
"Calder!"
Tamara waved. Melvin, in protective daddy mode, kept one arm around his wife while he cleared a path with the other.
"I'm so glad to see you." Calder returned Tamara's hug. "You look stunning."
"An Andi Benedict original, thank you very much," Tamara beamed. "Seriously, Calder. Thank you. A personal fashion show at your sister's shop was a dream come true. When I left, the proud owner of not one but four outfits? I was on cloud nine for days."
When Calder explained the situation to her sister, Andi arranged to give Tamara the V.I.P. treatment. Tamara fell in love with the flowing purple silk gown the second she saw it. Tonight, the color set off the glow of her skin to perfection.
"You look pretty spiffy yourself, Melvin."
"Don't clean up half bad if I do say so myself," Melvin preened. "Adam talked me into a visit to his tailor. Thought I'd hate all the fuss. Truth is, I may never go back to off the rack."
"Speaking of Adam. Have you seen him?" Calder hoped she didn't sound as anxious as she felt.
"Last time I looked, he and his date were at the bar."
Calder's heart sank—all the way to the floor.
"His date?"
"Adriana." Tamara laughed. "You didn't think Adam would bring anyone but his mother?"
"No. Of course not." Calder brushed off the idea with a smile. Surreptitiously, she checked her heart, relieved to find the organ back where it belonged.
Wide eyed, Tamara looked around. "The room, the decorations. Gorgeous. And the people." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just for fun? Point out the nearest billionaire."
"Tamara!" Melvin rolled his eyes.
"What's wrong with looking?" Tamara reasoned. "Harmless fun. Like window shopping."
More than happy to indulge Tamara's understandable curiosity, Calder gave a subtle nod to her left.
"By the rose-covered column. The woman in the lavender Scarlett O'Hara dress."
"Oh. Really?" Tamara sounded disappointed. "I guess money can't buy taste."
"For the love of… Time to hit the buffet." Melvin took his wife's hand. "Excuse us, Calder. When Tamara's hungry, her discretion flies out the window."
Smiling, Calder turned. And ran smack-dab into Adam. Like the moment they met on the mansion's back stairway when Adam's shoes were splattered with paint, and she couldn't take her eyes off him.
He'd replaced the boots with glossy black leather, but she still couldn't look away.
"Hello, déjà vu," Adam said, telling her his memories were just as strong.
"Actually, the name is Calder."
Adam's chuckle did nothing to calm her pulse. If anything, the deep, sexy sound sent her blood racing.
"Adam." He took her hand and didn't let go. "Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine."
As Adam leaned close, Calder caught the glint in his blue eyes. His warm breath caressed her ear.
"I prefer when we're both… pleased."
Calder drew in Adam's clean, masculine scent. She wanted him. So, so much. But could she trust him?
"Adam, I—"
"I need to speak with you. Alone. Now!"
Her father's voice, harsh, demanding, was like a shot of ice water through Calder's veins.
"I didn't realize you were in town."
She said the words to her father while she kept her eyes on Adam. She hoped to read his reaction to Edwin's sudden appearance. All she found were cool eyes and a blank expression.
"Didn't want to miss the party." Edwin's fingers bit into her arm. "Dance with your father."
"You will take your hand off her," Adam growled. "Or I will break every one of your fingers."
"Jesus. He thinks he's fucking Rambo." Though his voice dripped with contempt, Edwin loosened his grip. "Calder? Dance?"
"Obviously, I didn't inherit my charm from my father." Calder could feel the growing interest from the people around them. "One dance—to keep the peace. And the gossip at bay."
"You don't have to go with him."
"I'll be fine."
"Of course you will. I'm your father, not Jack the Ripper."
Drama. Always drama. Maternal and paternal. One day, they were bound to burn out after a life spent in a constant state of red alert. The sooner the better.
"I'll be here when you get back," Adam said. A promise to Calder. A warning for Edwin.
"Asshole," Edwin muttered.
"Adam? Or you?"
Genuinely perplexed, Edwin led her into a waltz.
"Why would I call myself an asshole?"
"I can't imagine, Dad. I can't imagine."
In perfect time to the music, Edwin smoothly glided Calder around the floor. She'd forgotten Edwin's skill as a dancer. Then, she remembered why. He rarely asked. When he did, they never finished. Not once. Tonight, he kept the streak alive.
"We need to talk."
"So talk."
"Not here." Edwin maneuvered them to the edge of the room before he dropped his arms. "Someplace private."
"My party. I can't take off." Calder hated to state the obvious, but subtlety never worked on her father.
"Surely you can spare five minutes."
Edwin had an odd concept of time. Five minutes could easily turn into an hour. Still, Calder had some questions for her father. She knew if she didn't ask him now, months could pass before she had another chance.
"Come with me."
Out the side ballroom door and around the corner, they were inside her temporary office. Calder flipped on the light.
Frowning, Edwin looked around.
"I thought your headquarters were downtown."
"They are. Have a seat."
Edwin moved to the sofa. Not in the mood for a cozy chat, Calder perched on the side of the desk.
"I can explain."
Interesting start. Calder crossed her arms and waited.
"Your boyfriend swore he wouldn't go running to you. Said he'd keep his mouth shut. For your sake." Edwin leaned back with a sneer of disdain. "Despite his rough manners, I had a feeling he was a goody-goody. Too pretty by half."
Calder didn't understand what Adam's looks had to do with anything. An attractive man was just as likely to be a snake. Her father was a perfect example. She kept the observation to herself. Edwin was about to spill some important information, and she didn't want to say anything to sidetrack him.
"You need to hear my side of the story before you judge."
As hard as she wanted to push, Calder held back the impulse. If Edwin wanted to slip the noose around his own neck, she let him. Once she had the facts, she would decide whether to knock the chair out from under him.
"I'm in the middle of a small financial downturn. Otherwise, I never would have made the proposition. Seemed harmless enough. Nobody could force you to marry the guy. If you agreed, of your own free will, why shouldn't I benefit? Right?"
Calder knew money had to be involved. Edwin. Ingo Hunter. They didn't take a breath that wasn't motivated by financial gain. However, from what her father had said, her hope for Adam was on the rise.
"Naturally, when I asked Adam to meet, I assumed he would be open to a deal."
"Naturally."
"Don't pout." Edwin didn't see—or chose to ignore—the flash of anger in Calder's eyes. "You're a beautiful woman. But a smart man would be crazy not to consider your other assets as well."
"And Adam? Is he a smart man?"
Calder held her breath.
"Dumb as a fence post and twice as hardheaded." Disgust written on his face, Edwin flicked a speck of lint from his jacket. "I don't want Calder's money," he said in a sing-song cadence. "Claims he'd sign the toughest prenup known to man. Your love is all he wants. Please. Who does he think he's fooling? More likely, he wants every dime for his greedy self."
Inside, Calder did the happiest of happy dances. Adam. Darling, wonderful, everything she could hope for, Adam. On the outside, calm. Her voice dripped with ice.
"What did you have to offer in your proposed deal?"
Edwin shrugged.
"I promised to grease his path, so to speak. Use my influence to make certain you said yes."
If Calder hadn't given into the impulse to laugh, her head might have exploded from the building pressure.
"What influence?"
"I'm your father."
Edwin seemed to think his explanation made perfect sense. Calder wondered how a man could be so oblivious. They had what a generous person might define as a barely-there relationship. Basically, he was a sperm donor with visitation rights. Rights he more often than not chose to ignore.
Calder didn't understand the way Edwin's mind worked. Honestly, she'd be afraid to find out.
"When did you and Adam meet?"
"A few weeks ago. A friend made me see that the Boy Scout in him wouldn't be able to stay quiet forever. He'd have to come clean. Make himself look good. I wanted you to understand my side."
"Why? What side of the story would make a difference? Unless…" Calder sighed. Money. Always money. "You want to ask for a loan."
Edwin smiled. Wide and toothy. His attempt at charm, she supposed. What he didn't realize and never would? Calder was immune. Had been for a very long time.
"A loan? Such a cold word. If you choose to present me with a gift—daughter to father—I would gladly accept."
"An under the table gift."
"You get your brains from me." Certain he'd won, Edwin relaxed. "Why give the government any more money than necessary?"
"Why, indeed? Mind if I ask just a few more questions?"
"Ask away."
"Who's the friend you mentioned. The one who tipped you off about Adam?"
"Ah." Edwin shrugged. "No harm, I suppose. She's a little sweetie by the name of Aurora Charles."
Calder didn't think Edwin could say anything to surprise her. But Aurora? And her father? Unbelievable. Except for the photo. The connection wasn't as farfetched when she remembered the people in the background.
"Ingo Hunter and Bridge Manfred. How are they involved?"
"You know about them?" Edwin looked confused. "They were at the cigar club where I asked Adam to meet me. But I didn't think he saw them."
"He didn't." Calder handed over her phone.
Edwin studied the image.
"Why the little minx." He barked out a laugh. "Hunter won't be happy. But since you know so much, I might as well tell you everything. Then we'll talk money?"
"Don't leave anything out, Dad."
"Hunter knew about my financial problems. He suggested I make a deal with Adam. He doesn't like your boyfriend. Has a real grudge against him."
"Ingo Hunter is a pig."
"Yes," Edwin agreed. "Though no worse than most powerful men."
"A ringing endorsement," Calder muttered.
"I don't have to like him to appreciate his style. He hired a photographer. Brought along Aurora, whom he met through Manfred—Hunter's cocaine connection."
"Better and better." Calder was tired of her father's long-winded narration. She thought she had enough information to fill in the blanks. "Hunter wanted revenge. Aurora kissed Adam when he wasn't looking. Photos were taken. The one with you, Hunter, and Manfred wasn't supposed to see the light of day."
"Aurora really is a handful. And friendly handful. Hunter wanted to use the photos after you and Adam were married. A little something to liven up your one-year anniversary."
"To ruin my marriage? And you knew?"
He didn't even have the good grace to look ashamed.
"I figured the pictures would be a good test to see if you had a strong relationship."
"Nice justification."
Edwin had never been a good father. However, until now, he'd never given Calder reason to hate him. And the worst part? She couldn't dredge up enough residual love to care.
"We're done. For good."
"Wait!" Edwin jumped to his feet as Calder snatched back her phone. "What about my money?"
Calder paused at the door and said the one thing she knew would shock Edwin to his core.
"Get a job."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
~~~~
CALDER STEPPED OUT of the office. T
he world around her hadn't changed. But she had. Something had shifted inside of her. Irrevocably.
"Calder?"
Adam. Two feet away. Tall. Handsome. Good. So damn good. And all hers.
How did he know she needed him? Right now. More than ever.
Without a word, she walked into his waiting arms. Calder held on for her life. No. She held on to her life. To Adam.
"I'm sorry."
"Shh." He kissed her forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Tired. Sad." Calder let the emotions sink in. "Free."
"Sounds about right."
"I have to tell you. God. I don't know where to start."
For once in her life, Calder didn't want to be strong. She wanted to lean on Adam and let him take the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just for a little while.
"I heard." Adam pulled her closer. "Everything."
"How?"
"A word of advice? If you want privacy, make sure you shut the door."
The office door? Adam listened in? The picture? The father? Ingo Hunter? He heard the whole sordid story?
"You know?"
"Yes. When I saw you leave the ballroom with your father, I followed. I had a few qualms about eavesdropping. Considering what I heard, I'm glad I told my conscience to go to hell."
"Every detail?"
"Every last one," Adam assured her.
"Thank God."
Calder didn't know if she had the energy to trudge through the muck again. Not tonight. One thing she had to do.. Apologize, and hope Adam would forgive her.
Adam beat her to the punch.
"I'm sorry."
"You?" Calder couldn't have heard right. "Why are you sorry?"
A passerby knocked into Adam, a reminder of where they were. For tonight, access to the hall outside the ballroom had been cordoned off to anyone not a guest at the gala. Most of the party-goers used the other doors—faster access to the bathrooms. Still, people spilled out from time to time. Enough to make the area less than conducive for an intimate conversation.
Adam took Calder's hand.
"Where are we going? The ballroom's back the other way."
"I have a room."
"Here? In the hotel?"
The elevator opened the second Adam pushed the button.
One Way or Another_A Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance Page 25
