Serenity (Inevitable Book 5)

by Janet Nissenson

  Sasha had gently refused any further efforts on Tessa’s part to find a dress to borrow, insisting that she could find her own. And when she’d approached Chad about the subject, her clothes-horse landlord had been delighted at the prospect of scouring the various consignment stores that he frequented to find her the perfect dress. Unfortunately, Julio had overheard their plans and invited himself along, a circumstance that only he had been happy about.

  As luck would have it, Chad had found the perfect gown at the very first place they had visited, and the price had been surprisingly affordable given the excellent condition the garment was in and the high quality of the fabric. Her luck had continued when Julio had triumphantly unearthed a pair of gold, strappy high-heeled sandals in her size that had been marked down for final clearance. On their way home, Chad had assured her that she’d be a knock-out in this ensemble, fitting in easily with the other women attending the ball in their designer duds.

  Sasha wasn’t all that worried about how she would look this evening. Even though it had been more than a decade since she’d last competed in ballroom dance, the performance skills that had been drilled into her from a young age hadn’t been completely forgotten. Dressing up for the part she would be expected to play this evening wasn’t the concern so much as acting the role. Spending the evening drinking champagne and making polite small talk with a roomful of wealthy, sophisticated socialites wasn’t exactly her idea of a fun time, and she had a feeling that she’d be practicing her calming, deep breathing techniques off and on all night.

  ‘This is for Matthew,’ she reminded herself sternly. ‘To make him happy. And in the scheme of things, it’s just a few hours out of time. So suck it up, smile, and do it for his sake. And maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.’

  But she had to keep reminding herself of the reason she’d agreed to do this, especially when she walked back inside the bathroom where Julia was busily arranging her makeup brushes, eyeshadow palettes, tubes and pencils, swabs and sponges. Even during her competition days, Sasha had never seen so many cosmetics assembled in one place. On the contrary, because their budget had always been so tight, she and her mother had usually shared supplies and made do with a bare minimum.

  “Julia,” reminded Sasha calmly. “You’re only making up Tessa and me, not the entire cast of Cirque du Soleil.”

  Julia smiled impishly. “I have a weakness for makeup. Along with clothes and shoes and purses. So sue me. Now, let’s do you first, Sasha, just in case you don’t like what I’ve done. That way we can start over again if necessary. But I promise I’ll take it easy.”

  Half an hour later, Sasha was pleased to see that Julia had been true to her word. Sasha’s pale gold skin glowed and virtually sparkled with the dusting of gold-flecked bronzer that Julia had applied discreetly. Her green-gold eyes looked larger and more mysterious with their subtle shading and soft lining, while her eyebrows had been lightly tweezed and groomed. For the lips, Julia had used a nude gloss with peachy undertones. Overall, the effect was low-key and natural, two elements that Sasha had stressed she wanted when she had agreed to let Julia do her makeup tonight.

  “You look gorgeous,” assured Tessa as she surveyed Julia’s handiwork. “Julia is as much of an artist with makeup as she is with interior design.”

  Julia grinned as she waved around a thick blusher brush. “Some artists use their brushes to paint on canvas. I use mine to make beautiful women look even more so. Your turn now, Tessa.”

  An hour later both Sasha and Tessa were both dressed and ready, turning around slowly for a final inspection by Julia, who admittedly was living vicariously through them both this evening.

  Julia sighed, sinking down onto the padded bench in front of the bathroom vanity, her hand splayed over her belly. “It seems like an eternity since I was getting dressed up for an evening out on the town,” she fretted. “And it’s going to be even longer before I lose all this baby weight and can wiggle back into any of my pretty things. I’m so big I can’t even fit behind the wheel of my car any longer. And if I move the seat back too much then my legs are too short to reach the pedals. So I need to rely on Nathan to drive me everywhere.”

  Sasha rubbed Julia’s midsection soothingly. “It’s all right. Because very soon you’ll have your beautiful baby boys to love and cuddle. And all of this will be worth it. Tell you what. As a little thank you for helping me get ready tonight, I’ll borrow a car and drive over to your place one day next week for a pre-natal massage since it’s so difficult for you to get around.”

  Julia’s face lit up. “You have no idea how amazing that sounds. Between my aching back and swollen ankles, not to mention how often these two kick me, I could definitely use a massage.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll call you on Monday to set something up.”

  And then Ian, who had offered to get ready in one of the spare bedrooms, was calling out from the doorway, “Time to leave, ladies. The limo is waiting for us downstairs. And Nathan is here for you, Julia.”

  Tessa and Sasha insisted on carrying Julia’s hefty makeup cases downstairs, while Ian gallantly offered an arm to assist the expectant mother. Sasha was so intent on not tripping over the hem of her long gown, or turning an ankle in the unfamiliar high heels, that she didn’t notice the man who stood watching her progress down the winding staircase until he was standing right in front of her.

  “Wow,” breathed Matthew. “Just - wow. You look fantastic, Sasha. Absolutely stunning.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, a bit overcome by the way he kept staring at her. “You look very handsome, Matthew. Even more so than usual.”

  He and Ian were both wearing tuxedos, though Matthew looked distinctly less at ease in the formalwear than Ian. Tessa had joked once that her husband had come out of the womb wearing a suit and tie, given how comfortable he felt in such attire. Matthew had also done something a bit different with his hair, slicking it back a bit so that it didn’t stick up in that slightly spiky style she’d come to find so appealing.

  He took her by the hand and guided her outside to the waiting limo. The driver had picked Matthew up at his place first before heading over to the Gregsons’ to get the others. Once comfortably ensconced inside the limo, Sasha carefully rearranged the folds of her gown around her legs. Just before Ian and Tessa joined them, Matthew placed a hand on her thigh, causing her to glance up at him inquiringly.

  “Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “I know this isn’t your thing, that you’d probably rather be reading poetry right now or practicing yoga. But I want you to know how much it means to me to have you along tonight. I’m not a fan of these sort of events, either, but this is probably the first time I’m looking forward to attending one.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind at all,” she replied warmly. “And I have to confess that it was actually fun to get all dressed up like this for once. Though I can’t promise to keep the shoes on all night.”

  They were sharing a laugh as Ian handed Tessa inside the limo, and the Gregsons regarded their companions quizzically.

  “Private joke?” inquired Ian, as the limo began to pull away from the curb.

  Sasha shook her head. “Not exactly. I was just expressing doubt that I’d be able to handle these high heels for the duration of the evening, given that my usual footwear is none at all.”

  “You’ll be fine,” assured Tessa. “I’m predicting that all those years of ballroom dance training will kick in. You did wear heels when you competed, didn’t you?”

  “Not anywhere near this high,” corrected Sasha. “And it’s been more than a dozen years since that time in my life. I’m not sure muscle memory lasts quite that long.”

  Matthew brought her hand to his lips. “I don’t really give a rat’s ass if you keep the shoes on or not,” he declared. “Either way, you’ll be the most beautiful woman there tonight. Uh, one of the two most beautiful women, that is. You, uh, look gorgeous as usual, Tessa.”
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  Tessa, who did indeed look breathtaking in a sleek black gown with long, close fitting lace sleeves and a scooped neckline, smiled her thanks at Matthew. “That’s sweet of you to say. But you’re right - Sasha looks incredibly lovely. More so than ever. So be prepared for all the attention you’re bound to get tonight.”

  Sasha frowned. “What sort of attention? And why on earth would anyone notice me?”

  “Because,” explained Matthew drolly, “this is the first event I’ve attended with anyone but my soon-to-be-ex wife, and everyone will want to know who you are. Especially since Lindsey wasn’t exactly well liked by most of these people. She was considered to be somewhat on the crass side. Not to mention she liked to flirt with as many other men as possible, so none of the wives or girlfriends could stand her.”

  Tessa nodded in agreement. “I can vouch for that. Except that Ian, of course, was always far too decent to respond to her attempts.” She reached over and kissed her husband on the cheek.

  Ian smiled at his young wife adoringly, brushing a long blonde curl off her forehead. “Why would I ever flirt with another woman when I had you, darling? Not to mention that I consider Matthew one of my very closest friends. And flirting with another man’s wife is definitely considered to be in very, very bad taste.”

  “You should remind your friend Dr. Reeves about that,” muttered Matthew. “I guarantee if Jordan is here this evening he’ll find his way over to Tessa’s side as often as possible, despite whatever new female he’s got clinging to his arm.”

  Ian scowled at this bit of unsolicited advice, while Tessa’s cheeks flushed and she glanced down at her lap, clasping and unclasping her hands in agitation.

  “He doesn’t flirt with me, Matthew,” she murmured uncertainly. “At least no more than he does with any other woman. That’s just who Jordan is. I can guarantee you that he’ll do the same with Sasha tonight.”

  “He’d better not,” declared Matthew. “She is most definitely spoken for.”

  “And she can most definitely speak up for herself,” admonished Sasha calmly. “I’ll handle this overly-eager Dr. Reeves if he makes an appearance. And now I think we should change the subject. We’re upsetting Tessa.”

  “I’m sorry, Tessa,” Matthew told her gently. “Sasha’s right. We’re supposed to be having a fun time tonight, so let’s make sure we enjoy every moment, hmm?”

  Tessa gave Sasha a grateful look, then squeezed Ian’s hand reassuringly, changing his dark scowl into a tender smile. Sasha guessed the subject of the flirtatious Dr. Reeves was a sensitive one between the married couple, and she made a mental note to quiz Matthew for more details at another time.

  The limo pulled up a short while later in front of the elegant Gregson hotel, often cited as one of the most beautiful structures in San Francisco. Sasha had only been inside the grand hotel once before, to attend a bridal shower for Tessa the previous spring. And while she wasn’t sure she would ever truly feel comfortable around so much lavish grandeur, she could still admire the hotel’s architecture and décor, just as she did most things of great beauty.

  Fighting off an odd, somewhat unsettling sensation of unease, Sasha was more than content to let Matthew guide her inside the hotel and up a long, majestic staircase to the mezzanine level where the ballroom was located. The venue was already more than half filled with guests, and she gulped, wondering how many curious, calculating glances would be directed her way throughout the evening.

  “Forget them,” murmured Matthew in her ear, as he grabbed two flutes of champagne from a waiter hovering close by. “All of these other people here tonight - none of them matter. Oh, unfortunately there are a few I’ll have to smile at and make polite small talk with - local government officials, members of my board, people I do business with. But aside from saying hello, how are you, enjoy your evening, I don’t plan on socializing with any of them.”

  Sasha took a brief sip of the champagne, recognizing it as a pricey brand even though she knew little about wine or alcohol. “Apparently Lindsey enjoyed doing so.”

  Matthew grimaced. “Too much so, unfortunately. She loved going to these events, would make it her business to find as many as possible for us to attend. Especially if she knew there was going to be a celebrity or athlete or some politician in attendance, and she’d always make sure we had our picture taken with them. I think after a time she considered herself something of a minor celebrity herself, like she and I were the local equivalents of Bill and Melinda Gates or something.”

  Sasha offered up a sympathetic smile. “I’ll take it from your tone that you didn’t share her love of socializing.”

  He made a sound of distaste. “That’s the understatement of the century. It’s not a coincidence that this is only the second event I’ve agreed to attend since I filed for divorce. And probably the last one I go to for several more months.” He slid an arm around her waist. “I have to thank you again for coming with me tonight. You’re the only thing that’s going to make it bearable. Especially since I’ve cut way back on the alcohol, thanks to a certain someone’s influence.”

  She deliberately let her eyes sparkle at him. “That was a good influence,” she reminded him. “You admitted it yourself - you’ve lost that bit of a beer belly you were starting to accumulate, you don’t have dark circles under your eyes any longer, and you sleep much better at night.”

  Teasingly, his hand slid down to her ass and gave it a squeeze. “Yes, but I get my very best sleep when you spend the night. Especially since you’ve usually worn me out by then.”

  Sasha gave him a look of mock outrage. “I think you’re confusing who wears the other out,” she replied with a knowing grin. Then she reached up to kiss his cheek, whispering in his ear, “I sleep very well when I’m in your bed, too. And it’s not just because the mattress is so comfy.”

  Matthew laughed out loud, and would have continued trading quips with her, but at that particular moment an older, well dressed couple approached them.

  “Matt. I wasn’t sure we’d get to see you this evening,” the man offered in greeting as he shook Matthew’s hand.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t been in the mood to socialize much these past few months,” acknowledged Matthew. “But I’m pleased to report all of that is beginning to change for the better.”

  He introduced Sasha to the couple, both of whom appeared to be in their sixties, as Larry and Marie Hartman. “Larry and Marie are major shareholders in MBI,” he explained to her.

  Larry’s eyes lit up with interest as he shook Sasha’s hand, holding it a bit too tight for her liking. “A pleasure to make you acquaintance, Sasha. Fonseca - that’s an Italian name, I believe.”

  Sasha shook her head, tactfully withdrawing her hand at the same time. “Portuguese, actually. My father is from Brazil.”

  Marie, who was wearing a tight-fitting, low-cut gown better suited to a woman two to three decades younger than herself, gave Sasha a somewhat disdainful inspection. “What is it that you do, dear? For a living, that is.”

  Sasha, who had grown used to dealing with well-heeled, and quite often uppity students at the studio over the years, merely smiled at Marie with well-rehearsed patience. “I teach yoga classes, Mrs. Hartman. And I’m also a massage therapist. Both jobs that I love dearly.”

  At the look of wide-eyed shock on Marie’s face, Matthew was quick to join the conversation before the woman could say something offensive. “And Sasha used to be a competitive ballroom dancer, Marie,” he blurted out, not bothering to add that the last time she’d competed had been as a young teenager. “Do you watch the show Beyond Ballroom?” At Marie’s nod, he added, “Well, Sasha’s mother is one of the professional dancers on the show – Katya Veselov.”

  The haughty look of disapproval on Marie’s tightly stretched face - the result of a not particularly effective facelift - quickly morphed into a smile of delight. “My goodness, she’s my absolute favorite!” she gushed. “I just love how
feisty she is, how she always seems to find a way to whip her partners into shape. And especially how she shows up those young dancers on the show every week. She’s a real dancer, you can tell.”

  For the next few minutes, Marie chatted amicably with Sasha about the TV show, Katya, and Sasha’s own dancing, while Larry preferred to talk Matthew’s ear off about some new tech company he was thinking of investing in. Fortunately, Matthew was able to diplomatically cut Larry off sooner than later, and smilingly whisked Sasha away.

  “Sorry about that,” he muttered as he ushered her towards their table.

  “For what?” she asked calmly. “The fact that Marie was visibly horrified at my choice of profession? Or the way you sort of stretched the truth about exactly when I stopped competing in dance?”

  Matthew’s cheeks flushed, making him look endearingly guilty. “Uh, both, I suppose. As you probably figured out by now, the Hartmans are sort of on the snobby side, especially Marie. And she always hated Lindsey, especially because my ex used to flirt pretty outrageously with old Larry - who did nothing to discourage it from happening. Marie probably took one look at you, figured you were a hell of a lot younger and prettier than Lindsey, and just assumed you’d put the moves on Larry, too.”

  Sasha wrinkled her nose in distaste. “No, thank you. I’m not the least bit attracted to men who are older than my own father. Or who reek of offensive cologne. Not to mention the fact that I’m perfectly happy with the man I’m here with this evening. I don’t need to stroke my ego by flirting with other men in order to prove they find me attractive, and especially not when I have the handsomest man in the room right next to me.”