Always Be True (7 page)

He was still smiling when he reached the annex and headed up the steps to his narrow bed. He might be sleeping alone, but he'd likely be enjoying some pretty hot dreams thanks to that amazing kiss down on the waterfront. Ones that featured him and a certain petite blonde with eyes the color of a summer sky and the kind of dimples guaranteed to drive a man crazy.

Natalie checked her watch and knocked on the back door of the gallery. She'd arrived in time—barely. Her mother wouldn't be happy about her skating in just under the wire, but there wasn't much Natalie could do about it. She'd been ready in plenty of time, but then she'd gotten a panicky phone call from her assistant saying that there was a problem with the computers they'd ordered for the community center.

It had taken two more calls and a bit of determined begging to resolve the situation. The computers would be delivered as promised, which meant she didn't have to reschedule the IT people who had volunteered to get them all installed over the weekend. It had been only one of several fires she'd had to put out during the day.

The bottom line was this cocktail party was the last place she wanted to be right now. At least it was her father who came to open the door. He frowned at her and pointed toward the clock on the wall.

“Sorry, Dad. I would've been here sooner, but some last-minute foundation business came up.”

“Well, at least you made it in time to be part of the receiving line. Your mother was getting pretty frantic.”

And they both knew that wouldn't have been good. As a rule, her father was pretty unflappable. The only thing that ever fazed him was when his wife was unhappy about something that he couldn't fix. Natalie not showing up on time definitely would have fallen into that category.

“You can leave your purse and coat back here.” He gave her one last look. “There's no time to dawdle.”

“Tell Mom I'll be right there.”

She quickly touched up her lipstick and brushed her hair back and anchored it with the antique hair combs her mother had given her for her last birthday. After setting her purse and coat on a chair in the corner, she took a calming breath and headed out to find her parents.

As soon as her father spotted her coming, he murmured something to her mother. She'd been talking to someone but excused herself as Natalie approached.

“Thank goodness, you made it.”

There was no use in apologizing for her tardiness, but she did anyway. “Sorry I didn't get here a little sooner.”

Then she kissed the cheek her mother offered her. “You look stunning, Mom. I love the new dress.”

Her mother did a slow twirl to show off the blue sheath dress, the sequined bodice catching the light and sparkling. “Thank you. I thought the occasion warranted it. I wanted to look good for such an important night.”

Natalie's father slipped an arm around his wife's waist. “You would look just as beautiful in jeans and a sweatshirt.”

Her mother might have rolled her eyes at the comment, but her husband's assessment clearly pleased her. Natalie had never doubted for a single instant that her parents loved each other very much. They'd set the bar pretty high as far as the kind of relationship she wanted to have with her future husband, whoever he might be.

Jacob Jones, the gallery owner, joined the small group. “I'm about to open the door, so places, everyone.”

They formed a line as her mother performed a flurry of introductions. The artist was the only person Natalie hadn't already met. Julie Stahl was older than she'd expected, probably in her mid-thirties. Interesting that she was just now launching her career. What had she been doing up until this point? That particular question would go unanswered for now. This wasn't the time to exchange life stories, not with a bevy of wealthy potential buyers about to file through the door.

She realized Julie was speaking to her. “It's nice to meet you, Natalie. Your mother has told me a lot about the wonderful work you and the Waines Foundation do. She's understandably proud.”

When the two of them shook hands, the other woman's hands felt like ice. No surprise there. She had to be terrified about the evening ahead. Affairs like this could make or break an artist's career. Putting the last vestiges of her own frazzled day on the back burner, Natalie did her best to put Julie at ease. “My mother has been raving about your paintings, and she's not easy to impress. From what I have seen so far, I understand why she's been so excited about your work.”

Julie and Natalie both watched as Tracy Kennigan assumed the role of hostess to welcome the elite group she'd invited to the showing. Natalie performed the actual introductions, doing her best to ease Julie's way as the crowd slowly filed by.

Everything was going smoothly right up until she spotted a familiar but unwelcome face bringing up the end of the line. Her first reaction was a flash of anger. Her mother knew full well that Natalie had no interest in seeing Benton anytime soon, yet there he was. Damn it, there was no way to avoid him without making a scene, which her parents wouldn't appreciate. It also wouldn't be fair to Julie, who was supposed to be the star in the spotlight.

“Julie, this is my mother's dear friend Gloria Humboldt and her son, Benton.”

By now the artist had either lost her jitters or was better at hiding them. “It's nice to meet you both. Thank you for coming.”

Gloria nodded to the artist. “Tracy has told me so much about your paintings. I couldn't pass up a chance to see them for myself.”

Then she turned her attention to Natalie. “It's been too long since we've seen you. You'll have to have Benton bring you over for dinner soon.”

She moved on, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, leaving Natalie staring at her back. Seriously, did she not remember that Natalie and Benton were no longer engaged? Speaking of the man in question. She dragged her attention back to her hostess duties to find him impatiently waiting for her to acknowledge him.

Her forced smile made the skin on her face feel tight. “Benton, I don't see your father, so I assume you got drafted to escort your mother.”

“Actually, I volunteered. Yesterday your mom mentioned you'd be here and didn't have a date. I tried calling you a couple of times last night to see if you wanted to ride over with us, but you didn't pick up.”

“I wasn't home.”

His condescending smile set her teeth on edge. “I would hate to think that you were avoiding me.”

Did he really want to do this here? Fine. “I was out with a friend. It was late when I got back home, but I did check for messages. There wasn't one.”

And she wasn't sure she would have returned his call even if there had been. It was time to bring the conversation back to the reason they were here. “I think you'll really like Julie's work, Benton. She has an amazing gift.”

He gave her a look that said he wasn't ready to let the matter drop for good, but he was willing to move on for now. Cranking up his charm level, he turned a practiced smile in her companion's direction.

“Congratulations on the showing, Ms. Stahl. I'm sure this evening will only be the start of great things for you.”

“That's the plan, anyway.”

The smile Julie offered in response to Benton's was but a faint shadow of her earlier ones. She also didn't thank him for coming, which Natalie found interesting. If he noticed, he gave no indication of it as he moved on to rejoin his mother. Most people—and women in particular—found him charming.

“Conceited jerk.”

As soon as the word slipped out, Julie closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. “Oh, wow, I apologize. I didn't mean to say that out loud. He is clearly a friend of yours, and I had no business saying something that rude. Please, please write it off to a bad case of nerves.”

“He's actually my ex-fiancé, so I'm not particularly happy with him these days myself.” She looked toward the door and didn't see anyone else coming in. “It looks like most of the guests have arrived. Why don't we get a glass of wine and see what kind of goodies my mom ordered for us to eat?”

As they walked away from the rest of the receiving line, Natalie gave Julie a conspiratorial nudge with her elbow and whispered, “If his mother and mine weren't best friends, I might have realized much sooner that your assessment of his character was right on target. In Benton's defense, he's not all bad, just a bit full of himself.”

The other woman nodded. “I've run into a few men like him in my prior job. I ran out of patience with it years ago.”

“What kind of work did you do?”

Julie picked up a glass of white wine and took a sip. “I was an army nurse. After a few too many deployments, I decided it was time to find a job where I'd have time for other things in my life. I've always carried sketchbooks with me wherever I was stationed, but I really wanted more time to paint.”

“Good for you! Where are you working now?”

“I took a job at a local hospital as a surgical nurse. The hours are more regular unless I'm on call, which allows me the freedom to take art classes.”

“I don't mean to pry, but has it been hard transitioning back to civilian life? I'm asking because the friend I mentioned to Benton recently left the army after serving ten years.”

“Civilian life is different for sure.”

When she looked past Natalie to study the crowd wandering from painting to painting, Natalie tried to see her mother's friends through the other woman's eyes. The room was full of glittery jewelry, fancy dresses, and hand-tailored suits—the perfect image of money and influence.

Julie was talking again. “But to answer your question, how hard it is to transition back to civilian life depends a lot on what your friend was doing in the army and how many times he was deployed and where. The frontline troops have often seen a lot of ugly stuff that they have to learn how to put behind them.”

Julie finally met Natalie's gaze head-on again. “If he does have problems, remind him that he's not alone. There are support groups and a host of other resources out there for him. They helped me, that's for sure.”

The grim set to the other woman's mouth had Natalie regretting her question. “I'm sorry, Julie. This is supposed to be your big night, and here I've brought up what is clearly a tough subject for you.” Natalie set her nearly full glass back on a passing waiter's tray. “I won't hog all your time, but why don't you show me your paintings and help me pick out a couple before all the best ones are gone?”

“I'd love to show you around, but don't feel obligated to buy anything. I just appreciate your taking me under your wing tonight.”

Natalie looped her arm through Julie's. “If it makes you feel any better, some of the money I'm spending is my grandfather's. He trusts my mother's judgment when it comes to art, and he told me to choose a painting for him. Let's go pick out something really nice for him.”

“Well, in that case, I'll show you my particular favorites. They're over this way.”

It didn't take long for Natalie to choose three paintings, a matched pair of smaller ones for herself and a larger one for her grandfather's collection. While taking care of the necessary paperwork with Jacob's assistant, it was time to decide whether she wanted to buy one more painting, but with the foundation's money. The one she had in mind was far different than the rest of Julie's work, which was probably why Jacob had hung it off by itself. Regardless of the reason, she found the painting riveting. It was a swirl of dark colors with only the merest hints of light mixed in. The title was simply “Memories,” perhaps a reference to the reason Julie had needed help transitioning to her current life.

“Don't tell me you actually like that one.”

She'd been aware of Benton circling closer for some time. “All right, I won't tell you.”

He moved up closer beside her, leaving only inches between them. She suspected he was deliberately crowding her and so stood her ground rather than give in to the urge to retreat to a more comfortable distance.

“So you were out with a friend.”

Okay, here it comes. “Yes, I was.”

He turned his back on the painting to look directly at her. “Anyone I know?”

“No.”

“And since your mother wasn't aware that you'd been out on a date last night, I'm guessing she doesn't know him, either.”

Damn him, she did not want to have this discussion, especially not here. “If you'll excuse me, I need to find Jacob.”

Before she'd gone two steps, Benton grabbed her by the arm. “Look, maybe I'm overstepping my bounds, but I still care, Natalie. Our parents aren't the only ones who hope that you and I can work through our problems. I haven't seen anyone else since you gave the ring back. It wouldn't feel right, because I haven't given up on us yet.”

Patience, Natalie, patience.
He had no right to question her decision to move on with her life or to make her feel guilty for doing exactly that. She stared down at his hand until he finally released his hold on her.

“I haven't changed my mind, and I don't see that happening. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but I really wish you'd respect my decision.” She finally stepped out of his reach. “Now, as I said, I really do need to find Jacob.”

Her father caught up with her while she was writing out the check. “I saw you and Benton talking over there in the corner. Is everything all right?”

It was tempting to lie, but maybe it was time for some hard truths. “No, it isn't. I realize that you and Mom are still friends with Benton's parents, which means our paths are likely to continue to cross occasionally. I'm hoping eventually it will get easier, that maybe he and I can get back to being just friends.”

She closed the checkbook and stuck it back in her purse, using the few seconds to regain a bit of composure. “To be honest, Dad, if I'd known for certain he would be here tonight, I might not have come.”

Her blunt statement clearly shocked her father. “Why? What's he done to upset you so badly?”

“He wants to get back together, and I don't want that at all. Until he accepts that that part of our lives is over and done with, things are bound to be awkward between us.”