The Confession (23 page)

He didn’t turn around as he left the room, but he could hear his father crying softly behind him.

The following weeks went by in a blur of activity. The final arrangements for the auction were complete, and Aimee had even managed to get her handbag designs for the upcoming season mailed off to Luther in New York.

Aimee was happier than she could ever remember being. She spent every night with Mark, either at his cottage or hers, and she was enjoying every minute of their time together. He was like a new man since the night he’d returned from visiting his father. The surgery had gone better than expected and he’d spent a lot of time with his father since he’d been released from the hospital.

Her relationship with Emily had grown as well, and she knew if the results came back negative, that she’d feel a tremendous loss. When she’d started working for her, she hadn’t been prepared for the emotions it would stir up. She wanted to belong to her. If she were to be honest with herself, she already felt as if she did.

Slipping her foot into the strappy silver heel, she turned to see herself in the full length mirror. The red dress clung to her body like a second skin. Her hair was pinned up, with a few scattered blonde curls falling around her face. She’d decided to forgo any jewelry, and chose instead to wear only simple diamond studs in her ears, letting the dress speak for itself.

She hadn’t heard Mark come in, but she turned when he let out a soft whistle.

“You’re stunning.” His eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Are you sure you want to go to this thing? I can think of a few other things we could be doing.”

She smiled at him, her heart racing. “And lose the opportunity to show you off? I don’t think so.” Wearing a simple black tuxedo, he took her breath away. “You look like you were born to stand on a red carpet.”

Walking slowly toward her, his scent enveloped her, causing her mouth to water, and the look in his eyes making her knees weak.

“I prefer jeans, but putting on this monkey suit is a small price to pay to see you in that dress.” He bent over and kissed her exposed neck. “Now all I want to do is get you out of it.”

She moaned, closed her eyes and leaned her head back to give him better access. “You promised me a dance.”

“That was before I’d seen you in this dress. I don’t know how much control I’ll have, holding you close to me. The room will be filled with people, I might embarrass us both. I think we should avoid any possibility of a scandal and stay in.” He ran his mouth up her neck, slowly nibbling on her ear lobe.

She moaned again, and ran her hands along his shoulders, finally burying them in his thick hair. “Emily would be so mad at us,” she mumbled breathlessly.

“It might be worth it.” He brushed his hands over her bare shoulder.

“We’re going to be late. We have to go.” Goosebumps rose on her arms. “But I want you to remember exactly where you are at this moment. I expect you to pick up in this same spot after the auction.”

He exhaled in frustration and laid his forehead against hers. “I don’t wanna go.” He pouted.

She smiled and stepped back, holding out her hand for his.

“Okay, I get it, responsibility, blah, blah.” He took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

She laughed, grabbed her small silver bag, and headed to the main house.

The others were waiting for them in the entry when they came through the back.

“Emily, you look amazing,” Aimee said, as she took in the floor length emerald gown they’d picked out together. Her hair was pulled back in a classic French twist, a thin line of perfectly square cut emeralds hung from each ear, emphasizing her long neck.

“Oh Aimee, the dress is perfect. You’re a vision.” She took her hands, holding them out between them to get a better look at her. “Is that the silver bell Amore’ clutch? I’m so jealous. It’s perfect.”

Aimee felt the color drain from her cheeks. Speechless, she was again reminded of her dishonesty.

McKenzie stepped over to them. “What am I, chopped liver?”

All eyes turned to her as she stood with her hands on her hips. She was draped in a deep blue gown the same color as her eyes. It wrapped behind her neck, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, and dropped to the floor in a small pool at her feet. Her dark hair hung down her back in a silky sheet, her olive skin glowed.

“I’d say you looked stunning, but that’s an understatement,” Aimee said honestly.

“I knew I liked you,” McKenzie said with a wink.

Aimee hadn’t noticed the other man seated on the chair until he rose. “We should get going. We don’t want to be late.”

Her breath hitched. She couldn’t move. Her eyes were glued to him. It was Nathan Talbot, a few years older, but it was him. The man who could possibly be her father had stepped out of a photograph and currently stood in front of her.

She didn’t notice the curious eyes on her until McKenzie reached out and laid her hand on her arm. She leaned in and whispered in her ear. “It’s not a ghost. Just breathe.”

McKenzie made the introductions. “Preston Talbot, this is Aimee Morrison, Emily’s assistant. Aimee, this is Preston Talbot, Nathan’s twin brother.”

After the appropriate handshakes and nice to meet you-s, the group climbed into the awaiting limousine outside.

Aimee was surprised when McKenzie leaned in again, and whispered, “Are you okay? That must have been quite a shock.”

She smiled reassuringly, and nodded her head. It was almost as if McKenzie understood the real reason she’d reacted the way she did. Aimee watched her as she chatted with the others. When McKenzie looked back at her there was no accusations in her eyes, no evidence of distrust, only a genuine smile of acceptance. Aimee dismissed her brief moment of insecurity.

Stepping out of the limo, Aimee felt transported to another world. Beautiful women in elegant gowns and successful men in black tuxedos spilled onto the sidewalk, all awaiting their turn to enter the center. She recognized famous actors and actresses, smiled at politicians she’d only seen on the news, and shook hands with grateful cancer survivors helped by the foundation. Everyone knew Emily’s name, and they all stopped their conversations when she neared them, turning all of their attention to her.

She watched in awe as Emily smiled, mingled, greeted, shook hands, and still managed to keep their group moving forward through the masses.

Inside the door, Emily paused, her face lighting up with delight. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Lexie and Marissa, the women she’d met at the hospice.

“I am so glad you two came.” She held each of their hands in her own. “You two are what make the foundation what it is.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Lexie said. “And someone mentioned an original Amore’ handbag on the auction list.”

“That’s true, and it’s beautiful. You both remember Aimee, don’t you? She’s the woman responsible for getting her hands on it.” Emily wrapped her arm around Aimee and gently tugged her to stand at her side.

Aimee shook their hands, “It’s nice to see you again.”

With final hugs, Emily and Aimee made their way into the ballroom to search for the rest of their group.

As they stepped into the main room, Aimee could barely contain her pride at the results. Round tables filled the room, each surrounded by elegant, tall backed chairs. In the center of each table sat a long, round, silver bowl, spilling over in a white combination of orchids, roses, Asiatic lilies, and mixed with different green leaves. The arrangements sat low to the table, to ensure each guest’s visibility, and were surrounded by multiple candles glowing in crystal holders.

Servers walked through the crowd balancing trays topped with champagne flutes or bite-sized appetizers. The staff was directing the guests toward the silent auction room before showing them to their assigned seats. She excused herself and made her way back.

The bids were increasing steadily, the contributors seeming eager to one up each other in the bidding wars. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching her before taking a glance at the bids for her custom designed handbag. She could barely control the urge to clap her hands with glee when she saw how high the bids reached.

“I think you’re a success.”

“It seems to be going well.” She turned and smiled at Peter. “I couldn’t have done it alone these last few weeks. Thank you again for all your help.”

His eyes roamed over her, his appreciation clear. “It was my pleasure. And may I say you look amazing. You take my breath away.”

“Why, thank you.” She glanced around the room at all the heads turning in his direction. “You look pretty sharp yourself. You’re having quite the effect on the women in the room. They will all need a chiropractor to work the kinks out of their necks.”

Without looking away from her, he replied, “I was only trying to get a reaction from one of them.”

“Hey, Peter.” Mark walked up behind him and patted him on the back. Hard. “Placing your bid, are you?”

Aimee watched as the two men spurred each other while still wearing the false expressions of friendly acquaintances.

“Mark, it’s so good to see you.” He shook Mark’s hand and squeezed, his knuckles turning white with the effort. “I was telling our girl how beautiful she looks tonight. She always looks amazing, but tonight she’s spectacular.”

“I’m the luckiest guy in the room, that’s for sure.
My
girl is nothing if not breathtaking.” Mark walked over and placed his arm possessively around her.

“I understand you two are seeing each other. Congratulations, you’ve found yourself a terrific girl here.” Peter smiled but his eyes sparked with challenge. “Is this your second or third date?”

Aimee didn’t miss Peter’s dig, even if Mark did.

“What was the name of that lingerie model you brought last year? Wasn’t it Bambi, or Destiny? Something like that?” Peter asked with a fake smile still pasted on his face.

She could feel Mark tense. “I believe Destiny was the name of your date.”

Aimee stepped away from Mark’s grasp. “If you two Neanderthals will excuse me … ”

Entering the main ballroom, McKenzie fell into step beside her.

“Nicely done.” She nodded, her lips tilting up in an approving smirk. “Looked like they were about to set up a time to meet outside after school.”

Aimee laughed at the sparkle of humor in her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mark like this. Not even in high school. It warms a mother’s heart.” McKenzie grabbed hold of Aimee’s arm. “Let’s go find our seats. Along the way we’ll try to find a handsome movie star for you to flirt with and send Mark right over the edge.”

They approached the table, and took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.

“The room looks wonderful. You’ve done a great job,” McKenzie said, scanning the room while taking a sip of her champagne. “I can’t believe you were able to pull it off with all your other deadlines, and the not to mention your mother’s passing.”

Aimee looked at her curiously. “Other deadlines?”

Before McKenzie could respond, the others arrived at the table and the conversation shifted back to the auction. Emily couldn’t contain her excitement, or her nervousness. She was talking fast, her sentences running together in a long string of chatter. Her hands moved as fast as her words, and every time she sat in her chair, she would shift, cross her legs one way, then the other, only to stand again.

Aimee put her hand on Emily’s arm. “It’s going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be fantastic. I’ll check on the kitchen, and then make sure the auction items are in order. Relax and try to enjoy yourself.” She smiled reassuringly before turning to leave.

“I’ll go with you.” Mark stepped up to the table as she began to walk away and hurried to catch up with her. They walked in silence for a while, before he mumbled, “Sorry about earlier. He was basically undressing you with his eyes, and it pissed me off.”

“Obviously.”

“He was acting a bit childish, don’t you think?” His tone was defensive.

“You were both acting childish.”

“Maybe,” he sighed. “I don’t know where this thing between us is going, but I do know I don’t like other men drooling all over you.”

“Oh, Mark, you say the sweetest things.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Well, you know what I mean. I … Well, I … Damn it, Aimee, I don’t like him hanging all over you. I can’t stand the thought of him touching you.”

She stopped outside the kitchen door and turned to face him. “He wasn’t touching me, but I understand what you’re saying. I’m having difficulty controlling my own imagination when it comes to you and Bambi.”

He laughed. “Her name wasn’t Bambi, it was Delilah.”

She pushed him back with a small shove. “Delilah? Are you serious?” She huffed, and pushed through the kitchen door.

The noise inside the kitchen was a barely controlled roar. Multiple Chefs bustled about shouting out directions while lifting the lids of large pots and stirring the contents, or dipping in a plastic spoon to taste. Crates filled with plates were being carried by waiters and placed at the staging area.

Aimee found Lois, the caterer, double checked the serve time, and verified she had the latest selection list. Satisfied, she walked back through the swinging doors and headed across the crowded ballroom to locate Peter and the auctioneer.

Not realizing Mark was still behind her, she stopped abruptly, causing him to walk into her back.

She jumped, and turned to him. “I didn’t see you.”

He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm. He closed his eyes and parted her lips with his. He kissed her until she swayed on rubber legs. He pulled back slowly, sucking on her bottom lip. She left her eyes closed, basking in the feelings enveloping her. Nobody else in the room existed.

“I know you have to get back to work. I wanted you to have something to think about when you see Peter.”

The sun warmed her face as Aimee sat outside her cottage, sipping her first cup of coffee. The evening was a success, raising over three million dollars for the Talbot Foundation. She couldn’t help but feel proud that she’d had a part to play in its success.