But I can’t be too ticked off at her. She did find me a gorgeous pair of heels that match my gold dress perfectly. Although they might kill my feet by the end of the night, they make me feel sexy. Thankfully, my ankle is better, so I’m ready to rock this outfit.
Shivering, I hustle up the stairs and through the entryway. I’m ushered toward a giant rectangular room decked out with Dale Chihuly glass sculptures, some extending all the way to the ceiling in wild, explosive color.
I exhale at its beauty.
I’ve been here for a few weddings, but never when an exhibit inhabited the space during a party. It’s like an underwater garden with blue, green, and purple pond fronds and red sea anemone that glow with an ethereal light. I bet my boss is delighted by how this turned out. Everything is exquisite. A quintet plays a Frank Sinatra tune along the opposite wall, while guests mingle around banquet tables covered with crisp white tablecloths and blue lilies.
“You should see the next room,” a familiar voice whispers next to me.
I turn to see Nathan, who is his usual handsome self in a dark blue suit. “Why, hello, Nathaniel,” I say saucily. “You clean up well.”
He leans in for a hug, and I awkwardly wrap my arm around his shoulder. We’ve never hugged before, so I’m not prepared for it.
“You’re looking pretty great yourself. Here, let me take your shawl.”
After unwrapping the delicate fabric, I hand it to him and force myself to ignore the artwork to check out the guest situation. The party is a who’s who of Portland. At the other side of the room, Malcolm’s wife Gwen is chatting with the mayor, two humongous guys I’m guessing are NBA players, and several attorneys.
Nathan clears his throat. “I might have spoken too soon.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
I return my attention to him, and he leans close.
“Describing you as looking great was an understatement. Wow, Evelyn, you look phenomenal.”
My face reddens when he leans back and lets his eyes trail down my body. The girl who’s been trying to catch his eye for the last year should be doing a high kick and jazz hands, but I’m surprised to realize I just want to see if Josh has arrived.
Adjusting my dress, I try to shrug off the nerves that hit me full force at Nathan’s expression because this is not the guy I want to have notice me tonight.
“I think I missed the memo. Everyone is wearing dark colors, and I show up in a gold cocktail dress.” I’m in love with this outfit, and for the first time ever, I rather like displaying my curves, but I’m still not used to being the center of anyone’s attention.
“If you’re not careful, you’ll steal the show from Gwen.”
I chuckle. “Stop. Let’s not get crazy.” And since when has Nathan ever looked at me this way?
He puts his hand on my lower back, and we head to the bar to grab drinks. I nurse a glass of chardonnay as we meander around the room, talking with guests and enjoying the delicate Venetian sculptures.
When we finally make it to Gwen, she gives me a wide smile. “Evie Mills. My goodness, aren’t you all grown up? How’s your dad?”
You’d think she hadn’t seen me since middle school. “Hey, Gwen. He’s doing great. He wanted me to send you some birthday wishes.”
It’s a teeny lie, but I’m not under oath. She doesn’t need to know my father hates everything about this scene. I give her a quick hug and am engulfed by her powdery perfume.
“Darling, you should have brought him. It’s been ages!”
I want to tell her it’s probably been about fifteen years since she’s seen him at something like this. Ever since my mom ditched us and returned to Boston, to go back to “her people,” as she described it to my poor, broken-hearted dad.
But Gwen knows enough to not ask about my mother. Which makes me wonder if they’re still friends after all this time.
Except I don’t care enough to ask.
Nathan leans down to hug her, and when he returns to my side, she looks like she wants to say something. But her focus is quickly diverted to someone behind me, and she claps wildly. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it, Mitzy!”
An elegant older woman with a chin-length black bob and floor-length black ball gown waltzes in front of me to air-kiss Gwen on both cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, my love.”
The two women are all aflutter in each other’s company, and I feel like I’ve been dismissed. I reach for Nathan’s arm so we can slink away and let Gwen chat with her friend, but then she stops mid-sentence and motions toward us. “Have you met Evie and Nathan? They’re two of Malcolm’s brightest attorneys.”
Mitzy—and seriously, what the hell kind of name is Mitzy?—steps back to include us in their conversation. “No, I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure.” She extends her slender hand. “I’m Marjorie Cartwright.”
Holy shit. This is Josh’s mom.
Nate practically bounds over me to shake her hand first. Really? Nice manners.
When he’s done slobbering all over her, I smile and introduce myself. “It’s a delight to meet you, Mrs. Cartwright. I’m Evelyn Mills.”
But she doesn’t respond because she’s distracted, glancing over our shoulders.
Gwen turns her head too and claps. “The kids are here.”
Mitzy leans toward her. “Spencer sends his regrets. He’s campaigning downstate tonight.”
“That boy is going to be a senator someday. Can you believe it? Be sure his office contacts Malcolm for a contribution.”
“There you are,” Mitzy calls out to someone behind us. I want to scoot out of the high-traffic zone, but then I hear his voice. It’s deep and smooth and sends chills up and down my arms.
“Mother, we got here as soon as possible.”
Josh.
My heart races, and I compose my face so I don’t seem like an overeager puppy.
He hugs his mom and mumbles something in her ear that makes her still, but then she whispers, “You’ll thank me later.”
And then she leans up to kiss his cheek. Aww. The look of adoration on her face is too sweet. She obviously loves her son.
Gwen returns her attention to me. “Nate and Evie, this is Josh Cartwright, Mitzy’s son. And—” She throws her arms up. “Tiffany! Darling! You made it!”
As Josh turns to me, he has the strangest expression. I smile, but after a quick handshake, he glances away, his jaw tight.
Huh.
That’s not the reception I was hoping to get from him tonight.
Disappointment settles in my gut like a lead weight. Is this the same guy who gave me the shirt off his back and bathed my dog and made me lunch last weekend? The same one who sent me a box of books and complimented my Pinterest boards on DIY renovations? The one who texted me all week?
But as I’m introduced to his fiancée, I realize why he’s acting like a stranger.
Because he’s a fucking liar.
10
Evie
The bass drum in my temple beats louder the more I think about it. Josh Cartwright is here with the spectacularly beautiful Tiffany Dandridge, heir to the tech fortune, and I want to hide like a frog underneath one of those huge glass pond fronds until I can escape.