of being able to clutch my pearls can finally come true), a diamond pendant necklace, and a few other small things that probably cost a fortune have been placed in the closet. But not these. Maybe Selah just brought them over. I don’t know.
At any rate, the lesson here is, you don’t need to be a size zero to look good. But money certainly doesn’t hurt. Especially with photographers roaming the place. For the society pages, I guess. We’re stopped several times on the way in. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
A waiter escorts us to our table where Beck’s grandmother is already seated and holding court with Ethan sitting beside her. Sad to say he looks almost as good in his tux as his brother does. I’m not shallow, however, so I plan to keep right on disliking him. Our entrance earns more than its fair share of attention from the other guests. And I’m drawing quite a few admiring glances along with the curious ones, which is nice. It must be odd being an Elliot and having people watching you all of the time, being so invested in knowing what or who you’re doing. Some people need to get a life.
Selah is seated at the next table beside a handsome young man. The look she gives me is resigned. Not a smile, but not a frown. The look she gives Beck, however, is wistful. Sad eyes and rounded shoulders. If I’d fucked up so badly with him I’d probably feel the same.
“Your ex is here,” I say in a low voice to avoid being overheard.
“To be expected. Her family are big donors for the hospital.”
“Did she manage to corner you earlier at the apartment?”
“Told her I wasn’t interested in anything she had to say.” His raises a brow. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
He pulls out my seat for me ahead of the waiter, his gaze thoughtful. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Reason doesn’t often count when it comes to emotions.” I sit, making sure my posture is perfect. The less cause I give Grandma & Co. to complain the better.
Catherine breaks off her conversation with the silver fox sitting next to her. She looks glamorous in a black velvet gown. “Beck. Alice. You missed the appetizers. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming. Emma’s absence tonight is disappointing enough.”
“She’s in Chicago on business,” says Ethan. “It couldn’t be avoided. You know that.”
Catherine sniffs, unappeased.
Beck delivers a swift kiss to his grandmother’s cheek, murmuring something to her (apologies, most likely), before taking his seat beside me. He takes my hand under the table as the woman on his other side immediately engages him in conversation. So this is how rich people do charity and party at the same time. Everything is sparkly and shiny and top of the line. There must be at least a few hundred people here.
Five minutes later, Beck is still busy talking to the other woman so I guess I’ll just occupy myself. No problem.
“You’ll have to excuse him,” says the woman sitting next to me. Ethan’s date. Her skin has a bronze hue, a perfect contrast to her red silk dress. “Beck’s used to everyone already knowing each other at these things. Whether it’s from the country club or the arts gala or Aspen.”
I give her a polite smile.
“Penny Hollis. I’m a lawyer at Elliot Corp.”
“Alice Lawrence.”
“You’re the new girl in town causing all of the fuss.”
What am I even supposed to say to that?
“Excuse me, miss.” The waiter reappears with a vodka, soda, and lime, saving me from coming up with a reply to Penny’s comment. Guess Beck ordered for me. I knew there were reasons I kept him around.
This time my smile is far more believable. “Thank you.”
“So the woman monopolizing your boyfriend’s attention is in investment at Elliot Corp. Next to her is a heart surgeon and her partner. Then there’s the property specialist who’s hoping to offload a penthouse onto Ethan,” she reports. “The bored-looking blonde is the trophy wife of the older gentleman trying to sell Catherine on something. He’s a big deal in media, out visiting from New York. And the rest you know.”
“You attend these things often?” I ask.
“Often enough.”
The beautiful blonde with the sandy complexion sure does look bored, throwing back champagne at a steady rate.
“If you marry for money you wind up earning it,” murmurs Penny. “She used to be a pro-golfer, but he made her give it up so she could fit in with his