Maybe Lana didn’t need his comfort and support, but he was going to make sure she had it. And if he needed to help her deal with Silas, then Rick was all in. He’d dump the twerp in a punch bowl if she wanted him to.
They pulled up to the mansion where the party was being held, a four-story midcentury modern monstrosity that could have held the entirety of his town within the sleek concrete walls. When Rick stepped into the mansion, Lana on his arm, he had a brief feeling of being in someone else’s life. This certainly wasn’t his. His life was a pool hall that was always too cold in the winter and too warm in the summer. A mortgage that wouldn’t go away, even when he wished it would. A grumpy kid on the couch, lamenting both their love lives.
Rick’s life wasn’t crystal glasses of champagne, ball gowns, or chic tuxes, surrounded by professionally designed wintery floral arrangements and diamond-crusted ornaments on Christmas trees suspended on nearly invisible wires from the ceiling. The white tuxedo, black bow tie, and black shirt she’d given him for the occasion left Rick feeling like an inverted penguin. But with Lana in the deepest, richest red gown next to him, Rick knew it didn’t matter one bit what he wore. No one was going to be looking at him.
All eyes were on her.
“I’m going to have to mingle,” Lana warned him. “If you get sick of it, squeeze my hand twice, and I’ll ask you to get me a mixed drink.”
“I’ll be fine,” Rick told her. Boy, was he wrong. On the twenty-second repeat of the same conversation, Rick conceded defeat and went to get her a drink. With each reiteration of “how was her poor dear cousin, what a shame, would she want to set up a meeting with them to talk business?” Rick had to keep biting his tongue harder. Silas kept interjecting himself into the conversation, reminding Rick of a toy-sized dog jumping up and down to be noticed.
Lana introduced him to each newcomer, and initially Rick worried maybe Lana’s colleagues would think he wasn’t good enough for her. But the reality was, to them, he wasn’t even there. Even Silas was ignoring him. Lana handled everything like the professional she was, deflecting requests with compliments and somehow remembering everyone’s name.
Only Rick knew how uncomfortable she was with it all and only because her thumb never stopped drumming against her hip.
“Scotch, neat,” Rick told the bartender, grateful to be away from the masses. “And a second for me.”
He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Waitstaff were passing around caviar on actual silver platters, but this was a cash bar. Of course the fancy fish eggs were free when all Rick wanted was a stiff drink.
One wouldn’t hurt. Not on a day like this.
“My daughter is beautiful, isn’t she?” Jessica’s voice pulled Rick’s attention. He’d been so focused on Lana, he hadn’t noticed her mother leaning against a table near the bar. Like Lana, Jessica had picked a rich red for her gown, although with a plunging neckline Rick was trying very hard to avoid glancing at.
“Lana’s stunning,” Rick agreed.
“She’s the heir to one of the most powerful real estate conglomerates in the world. She could be cross-eyed in a burlap sack and everyone would tell her how amazing she looks.” Lana’s mother took a sip of her scotch, breaking from the rest of the room’s choice of champagne. “But you’re right. She’s stunning. You’d have to be blind not to notice her.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he paid for a third scotch instead, nodding to the bartender to give it to Lana’s mother.
Jessica’s eyebrow arched as she accepted the new drink. “My daughter lets you pay for her?”
“When I’m lucky enough,” he said. “It took some convincing.”
“I’m sure. Are you in love with her?” Jessica smiled slightly. When Rick blinked at the question, she added, “I know the answer. I was just wondering if you do.”
Rick didn’t know this woman, and to be honest, she radiated a sort of intimidation that made part of him want to find anywhere else to be right then. But she was Lana’s mother, and that meant something. So Rick set his glass, untouched, to the side.
“Yes. I’m in love with her.”
Acknowledging that out loud to Jessica and to himself wasn’t easy…but it was freeing. He was in love with Lana. How could he not be? Saying it to Lana’s family instead of her first felt wrong, but Rick wasn’t going to pretend he was something he wasn’t, no matter how many bow ties the Montgomerys tied around his neck.
Jessica swirled her scotch in the glass, eyeing him. “Why?”
Frowning, Rick wasn’t sure how to answer. “Why do I care about her?”
“If you loved her for her money, then she never would have brought you here to meet us.” Jessica licked a drop of amber from her lips. “So I’m curious as to why you love my daughter.”
The challenge in her eyes was clear. There was nothing Rick could say that would justify his place at Lana’s side, and he knew trying would only leave him a crushed ant beneath this woman’s thumb. And because she loved Lana too, Rick didn’t blame her.
He didn’t think he was good enough for her either.
Straightening, Jessica turned and looked out at the ballroom.
“There are men in here who would marry her in a heartbeat if she agreed to it. She’s rich and she’s powerful and she’s beautiful. And one day, she will own more than anyone else in this room ever will.”
With an indelicate snort, Jessica took a sip of her scotch. “Lana knows that’s what they see when they look at her, so I’ve never worried about her falling for the wrong person. My daughter has never been the type to let her feelings blind her to reality. Usually.”
When Jessica let that hang between them, Rick inhaled slowly, then exhaled a long breath.
“You think I’m bad for her.” Just because he wasn’t surprised at the information didn’t mean Rick liked hearing it.
“You? I’m not sure yet. Moose Springs? Absolutely.”
Rick’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”
“Lana has been running away to your little town since she was old enough to drive herself. She’d idolized it as this perfect place where she can be happy. And in her attempts to carve out a place there, she’s making choices that will cost her. If the board of directors doesn’t have faith in her ability to dissociate her emotions from her financial decisions, she’s going to lose her spot at the head of the company.”
“Isn’t the board her family?”
Jessica nodded.
“And you still don’t trust her?”