Nate was waiting for me in the hallway. He looked effortlessly handsome in a dark suit, white shirt, and black tie. He was scrolling on his phone but lifted his head when he heard me on the stairs.
He watched me come down without speaking. When I reached the bottom, his eyes gleamed with approval.
"You look incredible, honey."
I patted his chest, firm and muscular beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt. "So do you."
He tilted his head to one side. "There's something missing."
Before I could ask him what it was, he turned and picked up a red velvet box from the table behind him. He opened it, and I gasped. Nestled on a bed of white satin were a diamond necklace and matching earrings.
I carefully slipped the earrings into my ears then offered Nate my back so he could place the necklace around my throat.
I turned to face him. "Well, will I do?"
"You'll do." He smiled and offered me his arm. "Ready?"
Was I? Thinking about the room we'd be walking into, filled with the elite of California society, I wasn't so sure. It had been several weeks since I fled from that gala in San Francisco, and a lot had changed. I wasn't the same woman I'd been back then. I'd embraced a simpler life, one I enjoyed a lot more than fancy parties where everyone judged you on what you were wearing, rather than the person you were. Add to that the knowledge Garrett would be there, and I definitely had doubts about what we were doing.
"Yes," I said, resolved to do this, to prove my words from earlier were true. With Nate by my side, I wasn't afraid. "Let's go."
As we walked to the door, Eileen called out to us.
"Hey, where do you two think you're going?" She brandished her phone at us. "I need pictures."
For several minutes, she made us pose for photos, as if we were teenagers heading off to prom. Nate and I obliged.
"Have fun, you two," she said as she finally decided she had enough pictures. "And make sure you eat enough. They never feed you properly at these things."
"Don't worry. We'll grab a pizza or something afterward," Nate promised her.
Nate took my hand and led me to the car. Collins held the back door open for us. I got in, and Nate jogged around the hood to get in the other side.
We didn't talk much on the drive. He had his phone out for the first part of it, and I looked out of the window at the valley, although there was little to see in the dark. When he put the phone away I said, "Scott?"
"Just confirming security arrangements for tonight."
Trusting Nate had everything in hand, I nodded and looked back out of the window. After a moment he reached across and took my hand, holding onto it for the rest of the drive. We didn't speak and I was glad of the chance to gather my thoughts. I didn't need words right now. I needed the warmth of his hand and the security of knowing that whatever happened tonight I wasn't walking into it alone.
Collins pulled up outside the venue, and I could already see the photographers along the entrance, frantically snapping pictures of the guests arriving. A year ago, this would have been entirely ordinary to me. Now it looked like what it was. A performance. This was nothing more than an elaborate piece of theatre in which everyone knew their part. I hated it.
Nate got out of the car first and offered me his hand. I took it and stepped out into the cold night air. Immediately the cameras started flashing as photographers called my name. Straightening my spine, I lifted my chin and walked into the winery.
It was pretty inside. Warm lighting was strung overhead. Long tables with white linen and floral decorations filled the space. A string quartet played at the entrance, and a band had set up at the far end of the room for when people wanted to dance later in the evening.
The room was full, and the air was thick with conversation. I spotted Garrett within two minutes of walking in. He was standing near the bar with two men I didn't recognize. When he didn't spot us, I breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew we wouldn't escape his notice all evening.
"He's at the bar," I said quietly.
"I know," Nate said. "Don't worry about him."
A woman in a headset appeared at Nate's elbow. She introduced herself as Claire and told us she'd be looking after us this evening. As she walked us to our table, she mentionedto Nate that the reserve cabernet from Mist Hollow had been served at their director's dinner in the spring and had been the talking point of the evening.
"I'll tell my viticulturalist," Nate said. "He'll be pleased."
We took our seats, and a waiter hurried over to pour our wine.
"Your viticulturalist?" I said to Nate. "Isn't Ramon also your winemaker?"
