Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You look lovely. Here, let me try something.” Naomi set down the bibs and ushered me to the vanity chair. “You forget I owned a salon for half my life.”
It wasn’t that I forgot. It was that I never wanted to impose.
“And for the record, your decolletage looks sexy. It’ll be a show stopper, for sure.”
“Shows can stop for disasters, too, you know.”
“Stop that.” She unwound my hair and heated a curling iron to add waves. Ten minutes later, she had me looking ready for a photoshoot. “You need something for your neck. Let me see your phone.”
I handed it to her, unsure how my phone might help us.
She pressed a button and brought it to her ear. “Remy, do you still have your mother’s jewels here?”
I frowned and waved for her to forget it, but she turned away.
“Yes, in the old chest. It’s for Rayne. The black diamonds, I think. Perfect. Thank you.” She ended the call. “He’s having Alphonse run them over.”
“Naomi, I can’t wear Remington’s mother’s jewels.”
“Of course you can. She left them to the kids. They’re family heirlooms, and you’re family.”
Her presumptuousness was at complete odds with my typical fade into the background and impose on no one philosophy, but things were already in motion. “Okay, but just for tonight.”
Getting down the steps in a floor-length gown with a protruding stomach that made it impossible to see my feet slowed me down. Hale stood at the foot of the stairs, smiling appreciatively at me as he held out his hand. “You look incredible.”
“So do you.” The tuxedo was created for men like Hale.
Once I made it to the foyer, he lifted a coiled lock of hair from my shoulder. “Your hair’s different.”
“Do you like it? Your mom did it.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
The door opened, and Alphonse stepped in, holding a slender jewelry box. “I have something for Rayne.”
Hale looked at the box and frowned. Naomi intercepted, collecting the necklace before I could explain. “Perfect. Thank you, Alphonse.”
“You’re welcome. Mr. Davenport and Ms. Crawford are waiting in the limo out front.”
“You can go ahead without us,” Hale said. “Rayne and I will drive separately.”
I knew that would happen, but I still smiled apologetically at Alphonse. “Thank you for bringing the necklace.”
Hale came to see what his mother had. “Are those Grandmother’s jewels?”
“Yes. Do you remember them?”
“Vaguely. Let me do this, Mom.” He swept my hair to one side, and I lifted it off my shoulders.
The cool weight of the black diamonds closed around my neck, draping heavily just over my collarbones. He latched the clasp, kissed my shoulder, and righted my hair. When he turned me to face him again, he looked down at my chest and smiled. “Perfect.”
I don’t think he realized that the dress was partially see-through, which was probably good since Hale could get a bit territorial around his peers. He wrapped me in a cashmere shawl and we were on our way.
The tradition of the formal pre-Thanksgiving dinner party dated back several decades. It was an opulent affair, with every detail meticulously planned to impress the guests, who ranged from various powerful positions.
When we arrived, a helicopter was landing in the back yard. “Oh, this is just like the cookouts we used to have in Oregon,” I joked. “I hope someone brought potato salad.”
Hale chuckled and rubbed his thumb along my fingers, something he did to calm me down when he sensed I was nervous. I usually wasn’t at anything fancier than a McDonald’s drive-thru.
We were greeted by white-gloved servants who took our coats and led us to the main ballroom for cocktails. Hale used to order champagne as soon as we arrived at formal affairs, but that was currently off the menu for me, so he requested the waiter find sparkling water.
Women, ranging in age from twenty to eighty, were dressed in pristine floor-length gowns, and men wore tuxedos. A small orchestra played soft, tasteful classics in the corner of the main ballroom.
I relaxed the moment I spotted Remington and Odette. But as I took a step in their direction, Hale held me back.
“There’s Phina.”
I followed his gaze and spotted his sister holding the rapt attention of several well-dressed men. How that woman remained single was beyond me. Of course, Hale would prefer to mingle with his sister over his father, so we walked that way.
When we approached the cluster of men, they all chuckled at something Seraphina had said. She clutched a flute of champagne and cocked her head, appearing confused by their laughter.
“I wasn’t saying it for a laugh. The soy crops are destroying the world’s ecosystems.”
Poor Phina. She had a philanthropic heart that went beyond the ordinary charitable acts wealthy people tended to do for show and tax breaks. The girl actually cared about something other than herself, and some people had a hard time comprehending that, including her brother.