“No one here is worth less than a million dollars, some are worth far more.” Richard Bancroft pauses beside me, resplendent in a black tux. “Work your magic, my dear. And if one of these gentlemen asks for your number, give it to him. I’ll let you know which ones are trustworthy. These are the sorts of gentlemen who can support a wife in style.”
We scan the crowd together. Men in suits and tuxes stand beside ladies in formal dresses and fancy up-dos. But I’m not interested in dating any of these gentlemen. A wave of sadness washes over me. Why can’t he accept the fact that I’m in love with his son? That his son has more to offer me than any of the millionaire, or billionaires, in this room?
Adrian circulates among the guests, smiling his smarmy smile. He’s on his best behavior, eyes only slightly bloodshot.
I stand beside Richard in the place where one or both of his sons should stand, smiling and greeting the guests. We laugh politely at jokes. My smile feels permanent. I’m exhilarated by the success of this evening, by the beauty of the hotel, the pleasure of our guests. I’m pleased that my vision for the hotel—merging past and present—meshes with Richard’s plans.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Crystal, the blonde from Cruise’s room that first night. A critic might say her dress is too tight, her makeup too dramatic, but I feel gracious tonight.
“Welcome.” I put on my widest smile. If I didn’t know she had a history with Cruise, I might not notice her green eyes narrow.
Patrick, her fiancé, steps forward with his hand out. We’ve never met, though to be honest, after his behavior the night I first saw him, I’m not enthusiastic about making his acquaintance.
“Wonderful party, Miss Bennett,” he exclaims, still holding my hand. His hand is sweaty, but I smile and allow him to touch me, hoping he won’t be one of the guests who decide to invest in the hotel. I don’t think I could stand to have to spend more time with him. His awfulness makes me feel sorry for Crystal.
“I always wondered if one of the Bancroft boys would take over this old place and run it into the ground. It’s nice to see you coming along and doing the opposite.”
“Word on the street is that she has her claws into Cruise Bancroft,” Crystal taps her nails against her champagne flute. “Though if she expects to inherit the place when she’s done fixing it up, she chose the wrong brother.”
This pronouncement is followed by awkward silence. I no longer feel quite so generous toward Crystal.
“Cruise Bancroft is bad news,” Patrick tells me. He probably doesn’t realize I saw Cruise knock his head into the wall and punch him. He must think I’m stupid if I would believe anything he says against Cruise. “We went to high school together,” he continues. “Crystal can tell you. Cruise uses people and throws them away.”
Crystal’s lips press together, pouting. “Cruise bores me.” She shrugs. “He was fun in high school. Prison ruined him.”
Several older patrons turn at the word prison, their eyebrows raised.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I say in a soft voice before walking away. If this party wasn’t so important, I would have told the two of them off. Instead, I grab a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and gulp down the contents before turning, my smile back in place, to greet another guest.
The music swells, and the orchestra finishes a dramatic piece, only to announce they are going on break.
The DJ takes over, and couples flock to the dance floor as he begins his set with a slow song.
I hug myself, slightly chilled from the champagne, and so lonely, as I watch the couples come together, smiling into one another’s eyes.
I remind myself that I will have Cruise tonight, either in his villa, or in my room. But his father has made even that difficult. Dangerous.
Someone dims the lights. Couples sway on the dance floor. Still hugging myself, I watch them, envious that they can show their feelings right here in the open. We’ve worked so hard to put together the perfect romantic evening. I want Cruise’s arms around me.
“Would you like to dance, Maya?”
Adrian’s breath reeks of something harder than champagne.
“I’m enjoying the revelry from afar,” I tell him.
He gives me a calculating look.
“You’ve picked the wrong Bancroft brother, you know.”
I shake my head. I don’t need any nonsense from Adrian. “We can work together just fine, Adrian. You know you don’t have any interest in me.”
He cocks his head to the side, a dull imitation of the gesture Cruise makes when he’s thinking.
“Are you sure of that?”
“You don’t have to flirt with me to make me feel better.”
He gives me a cold look. “Women have always preferred Cruise, even though he’s three years younger. They used to want to tame him. Now that he’s broken, they want to fix him. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Maya, to fix my brother, just like you’re fixing this broken down hotel. Only, he won’t thank you for it.”
Adrian Bancroft, it occurs to me, needs someone to come forward to fix him, but it won’t be me.
“There are lots of ladies here,” I tell him. “I don't have a penny to my name until my next paycheck is deposited, but some of these ladies have very deep pockets.”