Penny swirls the wine in her glass. “You have the discretion part down. They should give you points for that at least.”
And I keep right on saying nothing because apparently it’s working well for me.
“I’m going to take your silence for assent,” she finally declares. “Beck was always the black sheep of the family, but that’s something else. Good for him getting out and doing his own thing. Even if it was only for a short while.”
As tempted as I am to kick him beneath the table and have him intercede, I don’t. When it comes to him, curiosity wins out as always. What’s the harm in letting the lady talk?
“Of course, Jack pushed him too far. He never thought Beck would actually up and leave. None of them did. When the apron strings are lines of credit the pressure to obey the family and company can be extreme.” Gaze thoughtful, she stops talking to eat for a minute. “But now Catherine and Ethan are busily gathering their forces to show the board and the world a strong united front. And your boyfriend is part of that.”
“Yes, he is,” I say, because duh.
She looks over her shoulder to the table behind us where Selah is seated. The look Rachel’s assistant gives us is somewhere between dislike and distrust. Fair enough. Next her gaze goes to the talkative investment specialist on the other side of Beck. The one taking up all of his attention. She’s apparently no happier at this woman than she is with us. Interesting.
“Lots of competition for your position, Alice,” says Penny. “I wish you the best of luck.”
Instead of answering, I take a sip of my drink. Honest to God, I should win some sort of shutting-up award tonight. However, it’s better to say nothing than to stick my foot in it.
“Everything okay?” asks Beck, sliding his hand up to the nape of my neck.
“Everything is fine.”
“Can I get you another drink?”
“No.” I need my wits about me with this crowd. Loose lips sink ships and all that. “Thank you.”
Waiters collect the dinner plates, replacing them with dessert. A dark chocolate ganache with raspberry pulp on the side. If anything, it’s a little too rich. Much like everyone present. Or maybe I’m just poor and judgey despite my new bling.
Up on the stage, a woman welcomes everyone and thanks them for their donations before introducing Beck’s brother. Ethan rises from his seat and makes his way to the microphone to great applause. A picture of their recently deceased father appears on the big screen behind him. There’s no mistaking the family resemblance. Jack is just an older, more lean and lined version of his sons. Like Catherine and Ethan his eyes are ice blue, his gaze dignified and hard.
“If I said my father was a saint I’d be lying,” begins Ethan.
Startled laughter echoes through the room.
Catherine does not look amused. Then again, she rarely does.
“In fact, he’d probably haunt me for ruining his reputation,” Ethan continues. “Jack Elliot was a hardworking man who dedicated his life to expanding the empire his father had begun. His commitment and focus to this task were absolute, as any of you who knew him can attest. Family loyalty was everything to my father. That his children would grow to understand and appreciate the devotion and sacrifices it takes to be an Elliot, and to be a part of this community, and to go on to contribute in their own way. That was his ultimate goal and vision, and it’s what has brought us all here tonight. It’s my honor to announce that a new wing will be built in remembrance of my father and his commitment to this great city and its people.”
Applause fills the ballroom.
Ethan shakes the presenter’s hand along with several others. People from the hospital or city officials, perhaps. I don’t even want to imagine how much money a hospital wing would cost. But it’s nice to see them doing something with the money besides buying another mansion. Amazing to think they can just make the decision to save lives and impact so many. It’s hard to process what it would be like to have that much power.
Music starts up and the presentation is over. Catherine nods graciously to words of praise from those nearby. It takes Ethan a while to return to the table due to all of the back slapping and handshaking going on.
“Penny, good to see you,” says Beck, resting his arm on the back of my chair. Looking as devastating as ever in his tux. “I was hoping to get your opinion on the Amari contract. My brother’s keen, but I have some concerns.”
They start to talk and I tune out, listening to the chamber orchestra. When Beck, Penny, and Ethan start discussing something about derivatives versus equities I decide it’s time for a break.
Even the bathrooms are fancy with gray marble floors, walls, and bench tops. While I’m washing my hands, a woman around my own age introduces herself and asks me what school I went to. She seems somewhat perplexed when I tell her my local. Still, it’s nice to get away for a while and stretch my legs. Less so to be met by the lady investment specialist from the table on my way back out. Her smile is all sharp teeth. Guess we’re not going to be friends.
“You’re Alice,” she says like this is news.
I nod and try to edge around her, but she moves to block my escape. “You should know there’s at least six women here tonight that your boyfriend’s fucked. And those are just the ones I know about. He has a limited attention span. Once he gets his dick wet, it’s all over. Apparently, he’s a real animal in bed. But not so great when it comes to commitment. Look at poor Selah. She comes from one of the best families in town and he walked away without a second glance. So someone like you…let’s just say that your time should be up any minute now. Better enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Really?” I ask in a skeptical tone.
Her gaze snags on my diamond bracelet, lips twisting into a sneer. “That should come in handy. Nice and easy to hock back home in Cali, huh?”
“Is that it?” I cross my arms. Confrontation in general kind of makes me want to puke. But here we go anyway. “Are you finished with your mean-girl takedown?”
“Good question,” says a familiar deep male voice.
“Ethan.” The woman’s eyes go as round as dinner plates. “I didn’t see you there.”
“You’re done for the night, Jenna.”
“What? But I was just—”
“Leave,” he orders. “Now.”
And the girl all but runs.
Ethan watches her go in silence before turning back to me. Still not wearing his happy face. But at this stage, I’m not sure he even does that emotion. “Tell me, Alice, do you dance?”
“I sway back and forth in time to the music if that counts?”
“That’ll do.” Ethan offers me his arm. “Let’s go.”
Only a few couples are on the dance floor. This time, there is definitely room left for Jesus. Ethan holds himself and me with a stiff formality. I bet he knows how to waltz and foxtrot and all sorts of things. I think I can remember how to do the Macarena. Something tells me he wouldn’t be open to that suggestion. At any rate, the music is all wrong for anything half that interesting. We assume the standard waltz pose and rock back and forth.
“Thank you for running interference, but I could have handled it,” I say when the silence between us starts to unnerve me.