“You could tear that family apart just by telling them who you are,” Liam remarked.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to destroy her family. Like I said, I just wanted her to know. Now I’m finished. I don’t ever want to hear her name again.”
Seeing one of the Rayburns’ sons pushing his way through the crowd and heading to the entrance, Aiden increased the pace.
Cavanaugh pulled up just as they exited the building.
“It was a pleasure meeting you both,” Liam said. He shook Aiden’s hand and then turned to Cordie, taking her hand in both of his. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Aiden thought the good-bye was lasting longer than necessary, so he took Cordelia by the arm and ushered her into the backseat.
Cordie was quiet on the way back to the hotel. She was thankful Aiden wasn’t asking her questions, because she wasn’t ready to talk about the Rayburns. The only good thing she could say about them was that they lived on a different continent and she would never have to worry about running into them. She stared out the window. Her hands were shaking and she was spent. Taking deep breaths, she tried to slow her racing heart. She had been so nervous the entire time she was at the Gallery Ball, but now it was over, and she could relax and get rid of her anxiety. She just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Yoga would help. At least that’s what Regan often told her. Yoga was good for stress, she’d said. She had even bought Cordie a yoga mat. Whatever had she done with it? she wondered. She’d have to search for it when she got home.
Aiden finished listening to his messages and reading his texts, then turned to Cordelia and said, “Have you calmed down?”
“I’ve always been calm. Why would you think I wasn’t?”
“You were hyperventilating, and your face was red. It isn’t now, so you must be feeling a bit calmer.” He added, “But you’re still frowning.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m just trying to remember where I put my yoga mat.”
He wasn’t buying her obvious attempt to look relaxed. “You do yoga?”
“No.”
“But you have a mat.”
“Yes, Regan gave it to me. Yoga helps with stress.”
He put his hand on top of hers. She was still shaking. “Would you like to go out to eat, or do you want to go back to the hotel and do yoga?”
She didn’t acknowledge his wisecrack. “Back to the hotel.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“You could go out. You could drop me off if you want.”
He laughed. “I could? Thanks.”
Cordie really did relax then. For a while there, Aiden had been a sympathetic, almost loving, man, but now he was back to being his arrogant and impertinent self, and she felt a sense of normalcy again.
Several minutes passed in silence, and then Cordie said, “I’m going to have to wear this beautiful gown somewhere else so I won’t associate it with them.”
“‘Them’ being the Rayburns?”
“Yes. It probably cost a fortune,” she said. Her fingers gently brushed the fabric of her skirt. “Miss Marie’s bill for all the outfits will be astronomical. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. I can afford it, right? My father left me a fortune. That’s true; however, I’m going to be sensible about it. I’m not used to spending that kind of money on clothes, and designer labels are lost on me. My father was a generous man, but I’ve always survived on my own. I taught in a Catholic high school, for Pete’s sake. Do you know what the teachers make? Zip. They make zip.”
She continued her running monologue until they pulled up in front of the hotel. Aiden helped her out of the car, waited while she thanked Cavanaugh, and then said, “The bill will be zip.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
As they crossed the lobby, Aiden twice stopped to answer questions from the staff. He inserted his card in the elevator slot, and the doors opened.
“The bill was taken care of,” he said as they entered and the doors closed.
“By whom? Oh no, Aiden. I’m paying for my clothes, not you.”
He was ignoring her while he read a text. She poked him in his chest. “I said—”
“I heard you.”
“All right, then.”
She assumed he had agreed with her. Mollified, she said, “I appreciate the offer. I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful . . . Oh my God, you’re so rude,” she declared, raising her voice. “You shouldn’t text while someone is talking to you.”
Her indignation was short-lived. His smile could melt the hardest of hearts. He put his phone back in his pocket just as the elevator doors opened to their foyer.
“What do you want to eat? You haven’t had dinner,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.” She hurried across the living room to get to her bedroom. “Maybe just a hamburger. That would be nice . . . and French fries. I really shouldn’t have fries . . . and a milk shake. Chocolate, please. I deserve it after the night I’ve had.”
He stood in the middle of the foyer watching her disappear into her room.
“And no cheese,” she called out. “Oh, and pickles, please. Lots of pickles.” As she was closing her door, she said, “That’s a lot to remember. Just wait until I change, and I’ll order.”
Aiden looked around the living room and shook his head. Her scarf was on the back of the sofa. Her purse, which was the size of a suitcase, was on the floor, and her shoes were under a chair. What looked like a tube of lipstick was on the coffee table next to a pair of reading glasses and a leather-bound book he was sure had something to do with chemistry. On the wingback chair was a packet of tissues. Why in God’s name would she leave tissues on a chair? It looked as though a whirlwind had gone through, but it was just clutter, he told himself. And he hated clutter. Yet her clutter didn’t bother him. What was that about?
THIRTEEN
On her way to the bedroom Cordie pulled the pins out of her hair and ran her fingers through the thick strands. She should have taken off the gown before she washed her face, but she couldn’t wait another second. The Spackle Miss Marie called makeup was making her skin itch like mad. She was careful not to get a single drop of water on the gown, and once she had patted her face dry and applied a little moisturizer, she felt so much better. Cinderella was gone, and plain old Cordie was back, which she much preferred. Dressing like a princess took way too much time and work, though she had to admit that walking into the Gallery Ball on Aiden’s arm had been a little bit magical.
Carefully she removed the gown, hung it on the special hanger Miss Marie had provided, then zipped it in the garment bag and put it in the closet. It was chilly in her bedroom, so she slipped into a navy-blue silk nightgown. She didn’t think her clingy silk robe would be appropriate, so she put on one of the thick terry-cloth robes the hotel provided.
Aiden knocked on the door. “Food’s here.”
He wasn’t supposed to have ordered it, but she was glad he had because her stomach was grumbling. She hurried out into the living room. He had changed into a white undershirt and a pair of old jeans. They rode low on his hips, making him look all the more sexy.
Aiden, phone to his ear, pulled the chair from the table for her and handed her a napkin. She didn’t know whom he was talking to, but from his tone of voice she could tell he wasn’t happy with what he was hearing.