the dim, smoky air. What am I doing here? This isn’t a place for me. “I’m very sorry,” I said, turning toward the door. “Good night.”
I ran through the throng of people, pushing my way into the foyer, frantically looking for Caroline. Perhaps she could mingle with the rich without batting an eye, but I couldn’t pretend. It wasn’t in me.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, pushing past a group of men smoking cigars. I took a step farther and collided with a hotel maid I recognized instantly. “Gwen?”
She looked at me with confusion. “Vera? What are you doing here?”
I shook my head. “Caroline talked the doorman into letting us in.”
Gwen raised one eyebrow. “She could talk a mink into giving up its fur, that one.”
I sighed. “This is beautiful and all, but…I just can’t pretend to be”—I looked back toward the party—“one of them. I don’t belong here.”
“Maybe not,” Gwen said, “but you seem to have an admirer.”
I turned around to see Charles approaching. “Quick,” I said, “help me hide.”
Gwen shrugged and led me down a hallway, where we both jumped inside a maid’s closet. I pushed a mop aside to make more room. “All right,” she said once the door was safely closed behind us. “Why is it that you’re hiding from Seattle’s most eligible bachelor?”
“Charles?”
“Yes, dummy,” she said with a sigh. “His father owns half of Seattle. This hotel, too.”
“Well,” I said, “then I’ll save him the disappointment when he finds out I’m not a society girl.”
“Honey,” Gwen snorted, “I’m sorry to put it so bluntly—I’m sure he already knows you’re not a society girl.”
The unforgiving light in the closet did nothing to conceal the hole beginning to form on the toe of my right shoe. “Oh.”
“He clearly doesn’t care,” she continued. “Maybe he likes you for…you.”
“Gwen,” I said, “you’re very sweet, but I think you’re out of your mind.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m going home. Is there a back entrance I can use?”
“Yes,” she said, opening the door and pointing down the hall. “Right that way.”
“Thanks. And if you see Caroline, can you let her know? Discreetly?”
“I will,” she replied. “I’ll pass her a note in the caviar.” She snickered.
I walked down the hallway and opened the door, which deposited me in the alley. I took two steps, then jumped when I heard shuffling behind me. I turned around to see Charles leaning against the building with a shy smile.
“There you are,” he said. “I thought you were running away from me.”
“I was,” I said honestly.
He took a step closer. “I have to know,” he said. “What did I say that has you so spooked? Did I do something to upset you?”
“Listen,” I replied, “you have the wrong idea about me. I’m not a debutante. I didn’t go to finishing school. And I wasn’t even invited to this event.”
Charles shrugged. “And you think I care about all that?”
I paused, studying his face—honest, kind. “You don’t?”
“I can’t stand those kinds of girls,” he said, gesturing toward the party. “They’re all the same. If you’ll let me, I’d love to get to know you. Can we start over?”
I smiled, extending my hand. “I’m Vera Ray; so nice to meet you.”
Chapter 8
CLAIRE
The cab pulled in front of the apartment building and skidded for a moment on the icy streets until it came to a jarring stop. The streetlights made the sequins on my dress shimmer. I sighed, longing to be in sweats and a T-shirt.
“He’s a lucky man,” the driver quipped, eyeing my dress.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your date tonight,” he continued.
“Oh,” I said. I guess he didn’t notice my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Yes.” I shrugged and handed him a twenty before stepping out onto the sidewalk. “He doesn’t know I exist anymore,” I whispered to myself after the cab drove away.
Gene opened the door for me, and I gathered the hem of my dress before it caught on the hinge. “Home early tonight? I thought you and Ethan were at the—”
“You know I don’t like all that glitz and glamour,” I said, before he could press further. “Besides, this dress is itchy.”
Gene looked at me for a long moment. “Claire, how are you doing?” he asked, his eyes big and kind and filled with so much goodness. “Since the accident,” he said, faltering, “you haven’t been the same.”
I nodded. “You’re right,” I said. “I haven’t.”
He wrapped his strong arm around my shoulder, and it gave me permission, somehow, to feel the feelings that hovered inside, the ones I’d tried so