Disguising the constant hum of voices was a string quartet, sat on a raised dais in the center of the room and filling the air with gentle strains of Haydn, Beethoven, and Schubert.
More my sister’s thing, art wasn’t much of an interest of mine. The pieces gracing my home were mostly her choices, and the others were Mother’s. However, tonight was yet another event, another moment for philanthropists to share their good charity and for some to find the recognition for it they craved.
For me, tonight was another opportunity to see Asher. His reasons for coming to these things were a mystery, but he’d be here. He would.
After last weekend, hehadto be here.
He didn’t disappoint.
Dressed in what might be the very same suit he’d been in the last time, and the time before, Asher escorted his curvy, blondecousin around the room. The pair were striking, and everyone noticed. Women and men alike took second glances, sometimes thirds. Me? Well, I’d lost count of how many times I’d followed him with my eyes or stood at one sculpture only to stare right past it to him.
Tonight, he wore dark liner around his eyes and nude gloss over his lips. The effect wasn’t feminine at all, not with his slicked-back hair and suit, but it worked. As lovely as the art around us.
“Luke, darling.”
I quickly pivoted away from the metal loops that probably had some deep meaning I’d completely ignored and smiled for Mother. “Good evening,” I said and kissed her cheek.
“You really mustn’t stand here alone.” She circled my elbow and steered me in the absolute wrong direction: away from Asher. Within seconds, we were behind a partition, my obsession out of sight, and hurrying toward Georgina and others.
I unsuccessfully swallowed a groan.
“None of that, dear. Georgina is a perfect match,” Mother said without lowering her smile. “You’ll see. Trust Mother,” she finished under her breath, then louder said, “Ladies, I found him.”
A chorus of “hellos” and “good to see yous” followed as I donned the fake Luke I’d let slip too often lately. How could I not? Within short order and seemingly little effort, Asher had managed to do what I’d planned against for the last twenty years.
He’d gotten in my head.
He’d gotten under my skin, taken over my imagination, and dominated my dreams.
Sleeping or awake, I thought of him. What happened last weekend influenced most of it, but also everything else. Hismany facets. With the way he easily controlled me against the wall and yet blushed at the Thanksgiving donation event, he might as well be two separate people. He had me off-kilter at best, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind the change to the monotony I’d created.
Through years of practice, I only half paid attention as Mother spoke with the women, including me in their discussion, which I appropriately responded to. They might’ve been planning my wedding or funeral, who knew, as long as my responses were on point. They tittered and gushed about whatever, and then all noise stopped when the flow of traffic brought Asher in view again.
In all my stalking tonight, he’d never once crossed glances with me, even though he dipped his chin every so often and grinned as if he knew I’d see it. As he entered this section, he searched. My lips twitched, trying to hold in a grin when it wasn’t needed for whatever Mother was saying.
Don’t mess up now.
Asher’s cousin spoke of something while waving a hand around them. He was tall enough to see over her head, and he did, muttering words, that had me inwardly chuckling. Was he playing my game? Present yet distracted.
After a few more steps, his eyes crossed mine. He stopped, nearly stumbled, then quickly glanced away. So it was the shy Asher tonight. Intriguing.
His cousin didn’t notice his blunder. They kept with the stream of bodies, digesting each piece of art and moving on, all while his gorgeous eyes found mine a dozen times. All too quickly, they were done with this section. He disappeared around a temporary wall, gaze glued to mine, asking me to follow, and I wanted to.
And I did.
“Ladies, it’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid there are a few other works I wanted to see tonight.” I pulled my arm free of Mother’s and bowed slightly.
“Oh, darling, if you must, why not take Georgina with you? I’m sure she’d love to see them as well.” Mother waved at the woman, who lowered her gaze to the floor.
Fuck.
Georgina’s shyness was so unlike Asher’s, I grimaced. The woman was painful in her social abilities, where Asher was bold when he wanted to be. His cheeks might’ve burned, he might’ve lowered his gaze, but within the next second, he pushed past it, faced me or whatever straight on. Good Lord, Georgina would faint on the spot if Father spoke to her the way he had to Asher.
“Ah, I’m not sure I’d be the best companion to discuss the merits of the artwork. William was going to help me choose something for my office.”
Mother opened her mouth, but I spoke over her as I backed away.
“Another time, perhaps. Good evening, ladies.” And with that, I spun and ran away. Retreat? Never. Rather, making quality use of the only escape route.
