“It’s just a necklace, Brynne. Something very fine that reminds me of you. It’s vintage and it’s your favourite color and it’s a heart.” I took the box from her hand and removed the pendant. “I hope you’ll accept it and wear it and know that I love you. That’s all.” I tilted my head and held the two ends in my fingers, waiting for her to agree.
She pursed her lips together, took a deep breath and got that sparkly look in her eyes as she looked up at me. “You’re going to make me cry, Ethan. That’s so—so beautiful and I love it—and—and I love that you want me to have it—and I love you too.” She turned back toward the mirror and lifted her hair off her neck.
Victory felt so f**king fabulous! I am sure I was beaming, knowing more happiness in this moment than I’d felt in ages when clasping that chain around her beautiful neck, watching the bejeweled heart settle onto her skin, finding a home at last, after decades in the dark.
A lot like my heart.
12
The National Portrait Gallery is a magnificent venue for events and one I am well familiar with, having been there many times before working security, sometimes as a guest and once or twice with a date.
But never like this.
Brynne brought a whole new meaning to the idea of possessiveness. At least for me she did. I thought I might be dead by the end of the night from keeping up with all the people who wanted a piece of her.
She looked so beautiful and perfect in her periwinkle lace dress and silvery shoes; every inch the model she was outwardly, but inwardly, that artistic mind of hers was brilliant and respected for the work she did in her field. My girl was a celebrity tonight. It damn well helped to see my gift around her neck too. She is mine, people! Mine! And don’t f**king forget it either!
The display of Lady Percival was indeed a hit. She’d been set up as a tutorial on the conserving process as her restoration was only partially complete. And Brynne, of course, was credited as conservator for the project. As we went in to be seated for dinner, mention was made of her discovery in the welcome speech. The look of pride on her face was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. All of the proceeds for tonight’s event went to support the Rothvale Foundation for Advancement of the Arts and as I looked around the room, could see big money and old names among the guests. It seemed that Mallerton was experiencing a renaissance of sorts, and Brynne’s disclosure of what he’d painted had helped generate interest in his work, and as a result, the Rothvale charity.
“Brynne, your Lady Percival is something else,” Gabrielle said. “I got a good look at her when I arrived. I love how they are displaying her as an opportunity for teaching about the conserving methods and process that goes into a treasure like her. And, Ethan, you were instrumental in solving the mystery too, I hear.”
“Hardly instrumental. Just some word translation, but thank you, Gabrielle. I was glad to help my girl with a little French.” I winked at Brynne. “She looked so happy when she figured it all out.”
“I was ecstatic. That painting was a career maker for me. And I owe it all to you, baby.” She reached over and covered my hand with hers.
God, I loved when she did little gestures of affection like that. I brought her hand to my lips and didn’t care one bit who saw. I just didn’t care.
“I wonder where Ivan is. Do you think he’ll be here soon?” Brynne asked me.
My feelings of joy turned to pure jealousy in about two point five seconds and I am sure I frowned before I caught myself and accepted she was just being nice. I was reminded that I needed to let him know about the pictures from today, but damn, Ivan would drool all over Brynne when he saw how beautiful she looked tonight.
Brynne turned to her friend and started in excitedly, “Gab, I really hope he comes tonight, I so want you to meet Ethan’s cousin. He has a houseful of Mallerton’s that need cataloguing and God knows what else. You need to meet this man. I mean, you really need to.”
Gabrielle laughed, looking very happy and lovely in her own right, wearing a fitted green dress that did wonderful things paired with her coloring and matching eyes. This could be a very good fixation, I realized. An Ivan distracted by Gabrielle would be excellent for keeping him from flirting with Brynne. And something told me Ivan was going to be all over Gabrielle once he got a good look at her. I’d wager brass on it. And I’d win too.
“Hard to say, baby. Ivan sees time in his own set of parameters and he always has. It’s terribly annoying…” My words trailed off when I saw her across the table. Bugger me. Strawberry Blonde at three o’clock—all decked out and on the hunt. Not good.
I glanced away quickly and focused on Brynne. She looked over to where my eyes had just been and then back at me. Her mind was going in circles I am sure. Brynne’s a smart girl. I tried to play it cool and prayed that Pamela or Penelope did not remember any better than I did, but didn’t hold out much hope. She was a friend of Ivan’s and I just knew she would end up approaching me before the night was through. Where is the rule book for handling these awkward situations? Wasn’t it just plain vulgar to introduce the last person you’d shagged to the person you were shagging now? Ugh.
“Is everything okay?” Brynne asked.
“Yes.” I reached for my wineglass and put my arm on the back of Brynne’s chair. “Perfect.” I smiled.
“Oh look, there’s Paul.” She grinned and waved at my enemy who raised his glass in our direction. I’d expected that he’d be here because he’d said so that morning when I wanted to introduce him to the sidewalk. “Be nice. Don’t even think of having another tantrum in front of him again,” she muttered under her breath at me.
“Fine,” I said, raising my glass and mentally wishing for direct knowledge of the dark arts so I could curse him into a toad. Wait, he already was a toad; would have to be something different…a cockroach maybe?
“What are you thinking about?”
“How much I despise certain insects,” I said, taking a drink of wine.
She rolled her eyes. “Really?”
“Umm hmm. Not kidding. Cockroaches are just vile things, slinking around into places they definitely do not belong.”
She laughed at me. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer. “But if you embarrass me in front of him again like you did that morning getting coffee, I will hurt you, Blackstone. And there will be lots of excruciating pain involved.” She looked down below my waist.
She pursed her lips together, took a deep breath and got that sparkly look in her eyes as she looked up at me. “You’re going to make me cry, Ethan. That’s so—so beautiful and I love it—and—and I love that you want me to have it—and I love you too.” She turned back toward the mirror and lifted her hair off her neck.
Victory felt so f**king fabulous! I am sure I was beaming, knowing more happiness in this moment than I’d felt in ages when clasping that chain around her beautiful neck, watching the bejeweled heart settle onto her skin, finding a home at last, after decades in the dark.
A lot like my heart.
12
The National Portrait Gallery is a magnificent venue for events and one I am well familiar with, having been there many times before working security, sometimes as a guest and once or twice with a date.
But never like this.
Brynne brought a whole new meaning to the idea of possessiveness. At least for me she did. I thought I might be dead by the end of the night from keeping up with all the people who wanted a piece of her.
She looked so beautiful and perfect in her periwinkle lace dress and silvery shoes; every inch the model she was outwardly, but inwardly, that artistic mind of hers was brilliant and respected for the work she did in her field. My girl was a celebrity tonight. It damn well helped to see my gift around her neck too. She is mine, people! Mine! And don’t f**king forget it either!
The display of Lady Percival was indeed a hit. She’d been set up as a tutorial on the conserving process as her restoration was only partially complete. And Brynne, of course, was credited as conservator for the project. As we went in to be seated for dinner, mention was made of her discovery in the welcome speech. The look of pride on her face was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. All of the proceeds for tonight’s event went to support the Rothvale Foundation for Advancement of the Arts and as I looked around the room, could see big money and old names among the guests. It seemed that Mallerton was experiencing a renaissance of sorts, and Brynne’s disclosure of what he’d painted had helped generate interest in his work, and as a result, the Rothvale charity.
“Brynne, your Lady Percival is something else,” Gabrielle said. “I got a good look at her when I arrived. I love how they are displaying her as an opportunity for teaching about the conserving methods and process that goes into a treasure like her. And, Ethan, you were instrumental in solving the mystery too, I hear.”
“Hardly instrumental. Just some word translation, but thank you, Gabrielle. I was glad to help my girl with a little French.” I winked at Brynne. “She looked so happy when she figured it all out.”
“I was ecstatic. That painting was a career maker for me. And I owe it all to you, baby.” She reached over and covered my hand with hers.
God, I loved when she did little gestures of affection like that. I brought her hand to my lips and didn’t care one bit who saw. I just didn’t care.
“I wonder where Ivan is. Do you think he’ll be here soon?” Brynne asked me.
My feelings of joy turned to pure jealousy in about two point five seconds and I am sure I frowned before I caught myself and accepted she was just being nice. I was reminded that I needed to let him know about the pictures from today, but damn, Ivan would drool all over Brynne when he saw how beautiful she looked tonight.
Brynne turned to her friend and started in excitedly, “Gab, I really hope he comes tonight, I so want you to meet Ethan’s cousin. He has a houseful of Mallerton’s that need cataloguing and God knows what else. You need to meet this man. I mean, you really need to.”
Gabrielle laughed, looking very happy and lovely in her own right, wearing a fitted green dress that did wonderful things paired with her coloring and matching eyes. This could be a very good fixation, I realized. An Ivan distracted by Gabrielle would be excellent for keeping him from flirting with Brynne. And something told me Ivan was going to be all over Gabrielle once he got a good look at her. I’d wager brass on it. And I’d win too.
“Hard to say, baby. Ivan sees time in his own set of parameters and he always has. It’s terribly annoying…” My words trailed off when I saw her across the table. Bugger me. Strawberry Blonde at three o’clock—all decked out and on the hunt. Not good.
I glanced away quickly and focused on Brynne. She looked over to where my eyes had just been and then back at me. Her mind was going in circles I am sure. Brynne’s a smart girl. I tried to play it cool and prayed that Pamela or Penelope did not remember any better than I did, but didn’t hold out much hope. She was a friend of Ivan’s and I just knew she would end up approaching me before the night was through. Where is the rule book for handling these awkward situations? Wasn’t it just plain vulgar to introduce the last person you’d shagged to the person you were shagging now? Ugh.
“Is everything okay?” Brynne asked.
“Yes.” I reached for my wineglass and put my arm on the back of Brynne’s chair. “Perfect.” I smiled.
“Oh look, there’s Paul.” She grinned and waved at my enemy who raised his glass in our direction. I’d expected that he’d be here because he’d said so that morning when I wanted to introduce him to the sidewalk. “Be nice. Don’t even think of having another tantrum in front of him again,” she muttered under her breath at me.
“Fine,” I said, raising my glass and mentally wishing for direct knowledge of the dark arts so I could curse him into a toad. Wait, he already was a toad; would have to be something different…a cockroach maybe?
“What are you thinking about?”
“How much I despise certain insects,” I said, taking a drink of wine.
She rolled her eyes. “Really?”
“Umm hmm. Not kidding. Cockroaches are just vile things, slinking around into places they definitely do not belong.”
She laughed at me. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer. “But if you embarrass me in front of him again like you did that morning getting coffee, I will hurt you, Blackstone. And there will be lots of excruciating pain involved.” She looked down below my waist.
