Inevitable - Kristen Granata Page 0,37

show him the back of my dress, or lack thereof.

His fingers trace down my spine, leaving a trail of flames in their wake. “I have no words for how stunningly beautiful you look,” he whispers, sending a shiver straight into my core.

I turn to face him and offer a wink to conceal my nerves. “You don’t need words. You can show me what you think of this dress later.”

His hands dig into my hips. “Come back to my apartment after it’s over. Stay with me tonight.”

Excitement zings through me as I nod fervently.

He grins, and my heart pangs. He’s so handsome it hurts.

We walk down the hallway, but my feet freeze when we pass Eric’s old room. There’s a note taped to his door with my name on it.

I tear open the letter and see Dad’s handwriting scrawled across the paper:

Evangeline,

I had everything put back in time for tonight’s event. Thank you for forgiving me. I am so proud of you, and I love you with all my heart.

Love,

Dad

Tears threaten to ruin my make-up. “Graham ...”

“What’s it say?”

“I asked my father to put Eric’s things back in his room.”

“Perfect timing for tonight.”

My hand shakes as I wrap my fingers around the doorknob. I push open the door, step inside the darkened room, and flip on the lights.

I gasp. It looks exactly the same as it did a year ago, as if it were never touched. Eric’s paintings hang from the walls, and his comforter is neatly back on his bed. His acoustic guitar, his vintage records, everything is back where it belongs. I fling open his closet door to find his clothes hanging from the rods. My fingers brush over the sleeves of each of his shirts, and I inhale his faint scent. When I exhale, it takes so much of my anger and resentment out with it.

My father made good on his word, and brought Eric back to our home.

“He did it, like he said he would,” I whisper.

Graham’s hands wrap around me from behind. “He’s trying to be better for you.”

I close my eyes, surrounded by Eric’s spirit, and let myself smile despite the fact that he’s no longer here.

“We should go.” Graham’s lips brush against my temple. “The guest of honor can’t be late.”

This is it. The night I’ve prepared and planned for over the past year. The night I’m dedicating to my brother, to all of the people who’ve lost someone they loved, to the lost souls I hope to save with this fundraiser.

I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow. “I was born ready.”

The ride over is quick, and we arrive at The Waldorf to find several paparazzi waiting outside. I’m usually irritated by their presence, even more so by the false articles their pictures accompany, but tonight I’m glad. I want this event to get as much exposure as possible. Graham exits the limousine first, and extends his hand to help me out. Bright flashes blind me as he leads me to the entrance, escorting me, not like a body guard protecting his client, but like a man escorting his woman.

The second we enter the hotel, my name is shouted by everyone around me. I spot my father through the crowd, and a wave of relief washes over me. He promised to meet me here after work, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about him following through.

Graham steps to the side while Dad and I are pushed together to pose for pictures.

“You look lovely,” Dad says in between camera snaps.

“Thank you for putting Eric’s things back. His room looks perfect.”

“I’d do anything for you, Evangeline.”

Warmth pools in my stomach. It’s been so long since I’ve felt supported by my father by anything other than money.

My eyes find Graham’s, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by my father. “Graham, join us for a picture,” Dad says.

I guess Dad isn’t as clueless as I thought he was. If he viewed Graham as merely the hired help, he’d never offer to take a photo together.

Graham’s giant arms envelop me from behind, and I’m sure my smile in this shot is much wider than any of the others.

Deanna’s high-pitched squeal echoes as we enter the main ballroom. “Look at you two!”

I laugh as she almost knocks over a server who’s handing out champagne flutes.

“You look great, Dee.” She went with the mermaid dress, and her long curls cascade over one shoulder.

“So do you.” She pulls me into a hug. Her eyes survey Graham