“I wish I could, but I can’t. Not tomorrow. I have a family thing.”
“You don’t look too thrilled about that.”
Oops, did I grimace? “My father’s birthday celebration. I’m sure I’ll survive.”
“Aren’t parties meant to be fun?”
“Not in my world, and especially not when my mother’s invited my ex-husband and his new fiancée.”
“She’s done what?”
“He’s a family friend.”
“I was under the impression your divorce was acrimonious?”
“It was. He…he cheated on me.”
“Then how the hell is he still a family friend?”
“Because…” Where did I start with explaining the Stafford-Lyons family dynamics? And more to the point, why was I waffling on about it with a virtual stranger? “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does, because you’re upset.”
“Honestly, I’ll be fine. If I park my car along the road from my parents’ house, nobody’ll block me in and I can make an early exit once the brandy starts flowing.”
“Sounds as if you’ve done that before.”
An embarrassed giggle burst out of me. “I tried, except I made the mistake of parking on the drive. Then I couldn’t get out, and I had to hide in the tack room until everyone else went home.”
“Why not decline the invite?”
“You haven’t met my mother. I’d never hear the end of it. It’s bad enough that I went rogue and got a job, without skipping social functions too. I…” Stop chewing your lip, Beth. “I have to stay in my parents’ good books in case things get so bad financially that I can’t afford Chaucer’s livery. They have stables, but if I use them, I’ll be expected to play by their rules. Which means smiling politely when Mother tries to set me up with another moneyed worm more dickish than Piers and most likely stepping back into my role on the country club social committee. I can’t lose Chaucer. I won’t. Plus…”
“Plus what?”
“I guess there’s just a tiny part of me that wants to show everyone that I haven’t fallen apart the way they expected. They’re all going to be talking about me anyway, and if I don’t show my face, the gossip mill will go into overdrive. Bethany’s at home crying into her wine. Bethany’s checked herself into rehab. Ooh, what if she’s topped herself? When I missed Mother’s last party, someone started a rumour I’d had a nervous breakdown.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.” Who was I trying to convince? Alaric or myself? “Sorry for burdening you with my problems like that. I really should think before I speak.”
I expected him to back away the way Piers had every time I got overly emotional, but he just smiled. And not a “there, there, go take a Valium” smile—no, this was almost…cunning?
“How do you feel about a late dinner tonight?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I have an errand to run first.”
“Uh, okay.” Dinner was back on?
“Great. Can you do me a favour and make a reservation? Anywhere you like—I’m paying.”
“I… I… Of course. What time?”
Now it was his turn to look unsure. “Can you tell me where there might be stores open this evening? I’ve been to London plenty of times, but I tend to avoid shopping.”
“What do you need to buy?”
“A birthday gift. For a teenage girl.”
“What age? There’s a big difference between thirteen and nineteen.”
“She’ll be fifteen.”
“And how well do you know her? Is she a relative?” What age was Alaric? Late thirties at a guess, too old to have a fourteen-year-old sister unless his parents had started very young. Or maybe his father had remarried? A good number of my father’s friends were on their second or even third wives, and they were invariably younger than me. “A half-sister?”
He guided me towards his SUV with a hand on the small of my back, and the gentle touch sent a nervous shiver up my spine. A late dinner? I’d stay up until midnight if necessary. Hell, make it breakfast.
“Do you want me to go and buy the gift? It’s the least I can do after you saved my shoes. Most of Oxford Street stays open till eight, and Selfridges doesn’t close until nine. I honestly don’t mind. In truth, I quite like shopping, but I don’t have the money to go much anymore.” I gave a shrug as he opened the passenger door for me. “Buying groceries just isn’t the same.”
He watched me for a moment, hands braced on the roof as he stared into the car. Finally, he nodded, although it seemed more of an affirmation to himself than an answer to me.
“I’d appreciate your help. Wait here while I run upstairs and find you a key card for the gates?”
It wasn’t as if I could escape. The shutter door had rolled down again, leaving the cavernous room as secure as a tomb.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He flashed me a tight smile. “Back in five. And the gift?” He spoke softly. “It’s for my daughter.”
His daughter? As Alaric strode towards a set of elevator doors in the far corner, my mouth opened wide enough to catch flies. A daughter? Did he have a wife or girlfriend to go with her? He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t seem to mean much nowadays. The crushing band around my chest made me realise just how much I’d been starting to like him, and I thought he’d been flirting with me too. Had I misread things that badly?
“Did you ask your daughter what she might like?” I queried, silently thanking Piers and my parents for all the awkward situations they’d put me in over the years. If nothing else, they’d allowed me to perfect the mask I’d hurriedly slammed into place when Alaric emerged from the elevator holding up a small black key fob, and I’d listened attentively as he explained how to use it to open the gates. The garage door itself used facial recognition, and apparently, they’d coded me in already from the cameras lurking in each corner. Good for safety, I had to admit, but also mildly creepy.
Alaric started the engine and headed for the door. “I wanted to surprise her. Didn’t really think it through, did I? And I actually need two gifts—one from me and another from one of my business partners. They’re…honorary uncles, I guess. The two of us are going to see her tomorrow morning.”
“Going to see her?” My heart leapt, and boy did I feel shitty about that. “She doesn’t live with you?”
“No, she’s at boarding school.”
Oh. I desperately wanted to ask about her mother, but how could I bring that up without sounding either nosy or insensitive? Answer: I couldn’t.
“I see. Boarding schools can be a little restrictive on what pupils are allowed to take. Is your daughter a girly girl? A tomboy?”
“She likes science stuff. Math, that sort of thing. Ravi tried to give her a chemistry set last year, but she wasn’t allowed to keep it. Too dangerous, so they said.”
“When I was at boarding school, a group of girls stole lithium from the lab and set fire to the dormitory.” I still remembered the alarms, the smoke-filled corridors and the screams as we’d stumbled outside. “It was bloody terrifying.”