Bloody, bleeding, blimey hell.
I swipe quickly over my cheeks and realise that my face is drenched with tears.
That’s Hayden Clarke.
The Hayden Clarke who is Theo’s brother.
The Hayden Clarke who I’ve been fantasising about ever since I ran into him two weeks ago. How the bloody hell did I not know anything about his back story? Leslie never mentioned a thing about what happened to him. She did mention them becoming closer over the last year, but I thought that seemed normal since she is engaged to his brother. I had no idea what was going on in their family.
Why the hell didn’t I ask what the event was raising money for? Not that it would have changed anything. I was desperate to see Hayden again and see if that initial spark I felt before was real or a figment of my imagination. I never would have suspected that he—Lord, I can’t even finish the thought.
“Did you know any of that?” Benji leans over and hiccups loudly. The scent of alcohol permeates heavily from his breath.
I look away and murmur, “Not a drop.” Benji better cool it on the booze. The night is still young.
“Blimey,” he slurs and looks back attentively toward the announcer who’s resumed her post. She informs everyone there will be a small break before the auction portion of the evening begins.
I look around the table we’re seated at. The dim chandeliers cast a warm glow doing a proper job of concealing everyone’s emotional distress. Regardless, it’s obvious the entire ballroom is visibly shaken by that speech. Reyna suddenly stands up from our table and turns for the exit, her body moves lithely past the occupied seats. Her fiancé, Liam, watches her with a sad look in his eyes.
“I’ll be back,” Liam says, looking a bit morose, and follows in her wake.
Frank gets up next—his large fluff of bright red hair makes him impossible not to notice. I’ve met Frank several times with Leslie and have always got on well with him. He’s got this uncanny way of making me feel fabulous in my own skin.
“Right then…If ever there was time for a bloody drink.” He buttons his denim blazer and straightens his bowtie, then turns to his date. “I think this party needs a bit of Ginger Sparkle. Lionel? Join me, love.”
Lionel nods woodenly and the two men saunter off toward the bar. Leslie’s friend Finley shifts in her seat next to me and grabs her cloth napkin off the table to dab around her eyes. Her husband, Brody, embraces her and then looks over to me. “You okay, Vi? Glad you came?” he asks, catching my anxious expression. Finley turns her vibrant blue eyes to me.
“Oh yes, I’m er…fine,” I stammer, tugging up on the bust of my white gown nervously. The truth is Finley and Brody kind of intimidate me. They’re both American and I’ve met them a couple of times before, but it never gets easier. She’s tall, brunette, and drop-dead gorgeous. He’s even more of a conundrum on my verbal skills. He’s got to be at least six foot two and his mused, curly, dark hair makes him look sexy in that “I didn’t even try” type of way. The two of them look like a celebrity couple.
Finley and Brody moved here sometime last year and live with Frank. From what little Leslie has told me, I believe Finley and Liam had a fling at one point; but it must have been rather minor for them all to be sitting at a table together tonight.
Mustering a shred of my confidence, I ask, “Did you guys know all of that about Hayden?”
“Most of it, yeah. You didn’t?” Finley asks, her eyes looking sympathetic.
I shake my head. “No, Leslie’s never said a thing. Baby Marisa…Is she—”
“Named after Theo and Hayden’s sister? Yeah,” Finley finishes for me.
“Wow. When did she—”
Finley begins to answer, but Brody interrupts her. “I’m not sure it’s our place to say, Fin. Sorry Vi, nothing personal…But maybe Leslie would be better to tell you. Or, better yet, Theo or Hayden,” he adds sympathetically.
Nerves over seeing Hayden up close again take flight in my belly. He could be coming out any minute. Excusing myself to go freshen up, I make my way to the loo in an attempt to collect my thoughts. Once inside, I wait for a couple of older ladies to exit before bracing my hands on the counter and staring at myself in the mirror.