The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,391

I say.

“Here, finish this. I’m stuffed.” She shoves the roll at me before heading toward a pop up boutique filled with handmade items for women and children. Trying on a hat, she finds a nearby mirror to check her reflection before yanking it off and moving to a display of turquoise jewelry.

Standing back, I observe as she moves from the jewelry to a stack of bangle bracelets before passing a display of muslin baby blankets covered in cutesy animal prints. She stops, as if they catch her eye, and I wonder, for a second, if Maribel wants a family of her own someday.

Maybe it’s wrong of me to hold back her dreams in pursuit of my own. I can only hope setting her up with a lifetime of financial security will make it all worth it. After all, it’s the only thing I really have to offer.

Twenty

Mari

* * *

“May I come in?” Helena knocks on my door late Sunday afternoon.

“Yes, of course,” I call back, striding across my suite to meet her.

“I have something for you,” she says, entering and closing the door behind her. Unclasping her hand, she reveals a pair of ivory pearl earrings on gold posts, each surrounded by a row of glistening diamonds. “These earrings used to belong to my grandmother.”

Lifting my hand to my mouth, I say, “They’re stunning.”

“They’re for you,” she says, handing them over.

“Helena.”

“My gift to you. An engagement gift, if you will.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I say.

“I’ve been holding them aside all these years.” Her red lips spread into a wistful smile. “Patiently waiting until Hudson found the right one. I always knew he’d get married one day. The boy doesn’t like to be alone, even if he won’t admit it. Deep down, there’s a hopeless romantic in there, but I digress. Go on. Try them on.”

Taking the earrings, I move toward the dresser, securing them on my ears and tucking my hair behind my ears.

“They’re absolutely beautiful.” I turn to show her. “Thank you, Helena.”

“Will you wear them tonight? To the party?”

“Of course. Absolutely I will.” I walk toward the closet, pulling out the little black dress I plan to wear tonight. “A match made in heaven.”

A knock at the door interrupts our moment, followed by a woman’s voice beckoning for Helena.

“Excuse me, dear,” Helena gathers her dress in her hands and heads across the suite toward the door. Her voice is low as she speaks with one of her employees, and after a moment, she turns to me after checking her watch. “Alec Sheffield has arrived. If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to it that he gets settled. I’ll see you at Bleu Marina’s for the party.”

“You look amazing.” Hudson places his hand on the small of my back as we head toward the black awning outside Bleu Marina’s. The building is sailcloth white with bright blue awnings, two stories tall and backing to the ocean. A covered porch surrounds much of the outside, and gentle music wafts from a rooftop patio above.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting once we step inside, but Hudson leads the way, taking us straight back to one of the private rooms where a table is already filling with exquisitely wrapped gifts. Helena stands in the corner with a glass of champagne, chatting it up with a small group of women.

“There they are,” she proclaims, lifting her glass.

All eyes are on us—me, really.

I smile, keeping my head high as a woman with sleek white hair and a downturned nose comes at me.

“You must be Maribel,” she says, looking me up and down. “I’m Dianna, Helena’s cousin. Welcome to the family.”

Her words are kind, but her face is frozen. I’m blaming Botox.

“Nice to meet you, Dianna,” I say.

“Uncle Frederick couldn’t make it?” Hudson asks.

Dianna rolls her eyes. “He’s outside on the patio. Your father brought those Cuban cigars he likes.”

“Of course.”

“If you ask me, it’s a bit tacky to light them before dinner, but what do I know?” Dianna laughs, but her eyes don’t wrinkle. “Anyway, I better make my rounds. Congratulations, you two. You make a beautiful item.”

“Champagne?” A young woman holding a tray of sparkling flutes approaches us, and Hudson instantly takes two.

Handing one to me, I briefly panic before realizing I don’t have to drink it. I can simply hold it for a bit … and maybe misplace it as the night progresses.

“I think most of us are here,” Helena announces, her voice

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