I didn’t hesitate. “How long are you staying in Cape Hill?”
This time, his surprise was real. “After the fourth.”
Perfect. “Do you shoot skeet?” Independence Day was Tuesday, so the office would be closed. “I’m hosting a holiday game of it here on the grounds. I’d be happy to give you a tour afterward.”
He was quite pleased with this offer, likely thinking he’d have an entire afternoon to mine me—his unsuspecting target—for information. “I can’t say I’ve been before,” he said, “but I’m a quick learner. Are you sure, though? I’d hate to impose.”
“No, of course. You’d be doing us a favor. We’re currently a man short.” I gave him a grateful look. “I’ll have my assistant find you and work out the details. Her name is Sophia.”
The sun was low, and the gardens were mostly in shadow. The lights strung overhead were already on, casting a warm glow on the lawn and illuminating the rose bushes that lined the edges of the space. While the setup for the party was similar to the events I’d hosted in the past, there was a distinctly different energy tonight.
Excitement hung in the air, and it felt like I was on the cusp of reaching a new level. Smiles and laughter seemed to come quicker to the guests as they mingled around the tables and temporary dance floor.
I made the requisite rounds with Evangeline on my arm, keeping my razor-sharp tongue quiet whenever it craved to lash out and cut someone down to an appropriate size. I smiled so frequently I’d begun to worry I came off looking maniacal.
The red, white, and blue décor served both Damon’s campaign theme and the upcoming holiday, even down to the enormous birthday cake and the sparklers decorating it. After I introduced him, he gave a speech full of promises and patriotism, and when it was over, Kristin led the crowd in song.
The liquor was flowing, so I assumed the money into his campaign was as well.
When dinner and dessert were finished, the sun had set, and people moved to the dance floor. Evangeline was off in deep conversation with some of her friends, and I sat at an empty table, surveying the crowd.
It was an upbeat song, but Marist and Royce were out on the floor, swaying slowly, completely oblivious to the fast-moving dancers around them. For the first time, I saw my son and his green-haired wife as they were meant to be—two people in love, who didn’t care what anyone else thought. It almost made me smile, but my muscles were taxed from overuse.
Sophia was out there too, snapping selfies and pictures with her friends, and it was impossible not to follow her with my gaze, which I’d done most of the night. Some guy—probably from Damon’s staff—had been annoyingly hovering around her all evening like an eager puppy, and his lack of subtly made me groan.
This boy had no skill or finesse. Couldn’t he see she was so far out of his league that he was embarrassing himself? I wanted to pull him aside and inform him to stop leering at her.
She’d worn that gorgeous dress for me.
The fast song ended, and the next one was slow, the female singer crooning about love and longing. My pulse increased as the boy leaned much too close to whisper in her ear, and she reluctantly nodded. My breathing went shallow as they strolled out onto the hardwood tiles and he set his hands on her narrow waist.
No.
The word was wrapped in barbed wire as it tumbled through my brain. I’d lived silently with jealousy for so long, it didn’t make sense why I wasn’t any better at dealing with it. Every slow circle they turned as they danced together, his hands inched downward, and my blood pressure climbed toward the sky.
She gave a tight smile, grabbed his hands, and dragged them back to her waist. He shrugged playfully with a laugh. I couldn’t hear what he’d said to her but didn’t need to. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Oh, did I fucking blame him. There’d been no seduction or effort on his part, and she was a woman who deserved all of that. I tightened my jaw so furiously, it should have cracked my teeth. Guys like him were the reason Sophia’s sex life hadn’t included orgasms. This young generation had no patience or work ethic.
As I’d already demonstrated to her, I had it in spades.
I lasted until the song was finishing, before rising from my seat and stalking across the dance floor. “Excuse me,” I said to the boy, “I need my assistant.”
It was satisfying the way she instantly abandoned him and gave me her full attention. “What’s up?”
I didn’t answer. I turned and strode away, expecting her to follow, which she did. When we were a safe distance away, I finally spoke. It came out more forceful than I’d meant it to. “Take a walk with me.”
She pulled to a stop. “I can’t.”
Displeasure fired through my veins. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
My irritation grew worse as she dropped her gaze to the screen of her phone. “It’s time.”
I stared at her dubiously. Time? There was nothing left on the schedule as far as—
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice boomed on top of the music coming from the speakers, “your host requests your presence on the dance floor. We need everyone to help take part in a special celebration tonight.”
I hadn’t been privy to her plans and didn’t care for surprises, but Sophia looked ready to burst. Her brilliant smile covered her face, and her eyes were wild with excitement, and it was so beautiful it was downright incapacitating.
“Come on,” she whispered in a thrilled hurry.
Four hundred of Cape Hill’s elite gathered in the available space, anxious and as intrigued as I was. Staff had assembled in stations around plastic crates at the edges of the garden and began handing out white squares approximately the size of record albums to the guests.
Sophia grabbed one and passed it to me then grabbed another for herself.
“What you are receiving right now,” the announcer said, “is a sky lantern. Once you have one, please unfurl and hold it by the edges of the ring. Someone will be by momentarily to help you light it.”
The paper was delicate like silk, and when I grasped the ring, the balloon unfolded, falling to the grass. Thin wooden dowels crossed an X over the ring, and at the center, there was a tan square the size of a matchbox.
The music faded to the background so the announcer could be heard clearly. “While you wait, please know these lanterns are one hundred percent biodegradable, made from paper, bamboo, and wax. I’m told the wind will carry them out over the Cape, but the fire department is also monitoring the launch in case there are any issues.”
A man in a staff uniform came to Sophia, carrying a small butane torch, and lit the tan block of wax at the center of her lantern. As soon as it began to burn, he leaned down to grab the paper and expertly flipped the ring over before handing it back to her. The white balloon glowed yellowy-orange and expanded as it began to fill with hot air.
The announcer surveyed the crowd from the podium. “We’ve all seen fireworks, but Mr. Hale wanted a display that you, his honored guests, could each be a part of. When everyone is ready, we’ll start the countdown and release the lanterns together.”
The man with the torch repeated the same process for my lantern as he’d done with Sophia’s before moving on to assist another guest. I watched the staff with torches work as quickly as possible to ensure everyone was ready for launch, and the balloon in my grasp was already gently tugging to lift off.