Tara made another pass through the tables where the silent auction was going on. Pens and pads still in place, long lists of bids ongoing, which should make the curators ecstatic. People with money always made charitable foundations happy, which meant all the promotion for this event had paid off.
Flashbulbs popped all over the place, and Tara did her best to avert her eyes whenever she saw a flash. She kept herself busy and hovered in the background, making sure the limelight stayed on the people it was supposed to stay on. She brought those not too popular but eager to meet celebrities to the right people so introductions could be made, happy she had just the right contacts to make that happen.
Everything was going smoothly, and she was thrilled with her choice of caterers and waitstaff for tonight’s event.
She finally had a chance to stop at the bar, grab a mineral water, and take a breath before doing her next circuit through the gallery. Since things seemed to be running smoothly, maybe this time she could stop and ogle all the art.
She was admiring a great piece of metal sculpture when she heard a round of applause and commotion the next room over. She wandered in that direction and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Mick, dressed in a very fancy dark tux, smiling for the photographers who were taking his picture.
His back was to her, but she’d know him anywhere, from the slightly shaggy look to his dark hair to the way he stood, right hand in his pocket, the casual stance like he was comfortable in any situation. She caught his profile and was about to go over and say hello when he shifted, bringing the woman on his arm to the center of attention.
A beautiful woman with short raven hair, stunning chandelier earrings that dripped in diamonds, and a multilayered black dress that showed off a considerable amount of cleavage, and oh, God, did she have killer legs, too.
Tara recognized her instantly as the actress making all the buzz in that new television drama on Tuesday nights. She was young, single, and talented. And her incredible violet eyes seemed to be planted right on Mick. She had her body cemented against Mick’s, her arm wrapped around his while he smiled down at her and gave her his full attention as if she were the only woman in the room. Then the two of them turned their heads toward the camera. They looked like the perfect couple.
Tara’s stomach dropped, and she stepped back.
“Hey, Tara, isn’t that Mick?”
She fought back tears as she nodded at Maggie. “Yes, it is.”
“With Alicia Brave. Wow. What’s he doing with her?”
Tara turned and walked out of the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. “Posing for the cameras.”
Maggie hurried after her. “Aren’t you going to say something to him?”
She stopped, turned. “Maggie, this isn’t the time. Go check on the canapés for the auction area. They looked a little thin and might need to be restocked.”
Maggie gave her a worried look but nodded. “Okay.”
Tara moved off, determined to tamp down the hurt and anger.
They were exclusive, dammit. At least she thought they were. She’d met his parents—she and Nathan both had. Didn’t that mean something to him? In Tara’s world, it did. Maybe to him it meant nothing, which just illustrated how their worlds differed.
She’d so wanted this to work, had started to think they could somehow bridge the gap between his lifestyle and hers, but if this was the way he intended to carry on, then something was going to have to give, and it wasn’t going to be her.
Dammit, this hurt, and she had no time for her heart to hurt.
She was working, and that’s what she needed to concentrate on. She went to the bar and checked on things. Maurice said they were well-stocked and not to worry, so she hid out in the kitchen for a while until Stefan gave her the evil eye one too many times. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off a high-strung chef, so she hightailed it out of there and once again checked the silent auction bids, but there were quite a few people milling about, and it was nearing time for the end of bids. She was in the way, and last-minute bidding could be crucial.
“Tara. Is something wrong?”
She lifted her chin and offered a comforting smile to Evan Jervis, the manager of the fund-raiser. “Of course not, Evan. Everything is perfect. Don’t you think so?”
Evan visibly relaxed and grabbed her hands. “Yes, I do. You’ve done a remarkable job on tonight’s event. I can’t thank you enough.”
His compliment helped her more than she could say. “I’m so glad you think so. And the bidders are going crazy at the moment, with only ten minutes left until the cutoff. I have a feeling the charity is going to make a lot of money tonight.”
“From your lips to their checkbooks, honey,” Evan said. “I guess I’ll go monitor the bids for the last few minutes, then get ready for the announcements of the winners. Will you be in place to help me?”
“Of course.”