of a glass,” she argued, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss seltzer water as superfluous. “Go get a glass of wine at least,” she said, but didn’t wait for a response before moving off to greet another group of guests with a gregarious, if alcohol or valium induced smile.
Eva shook her head at her mother’s chemical dependence and turned away, heading in the opposite direction of the bartender who was mixing drinks in one corner of the formal living room. She’d tried to pull her mother away from that method of coping, even going so far as to ask her father for help, but to no avail. Until her mother wanted out of that kind of cycle, there was nothing Eva could do. Except avoid that same fate herself, she thought with determination. Being the wife of a wealthy man wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It came with a great deal of stress and problems. The competition was fierce among her mother’s peers to be the best hostess, have the most acclaimed house and the highest earning husband. It was a superficial existence. Eva wanted more substance to her life.
She took a seat on one of the ivory brocade sofas and smiled politely to the group around her. She was grateful when they accepted her into their conversation, but discussing the latest art craze wasn’t the most exciting topic.
Trying to look as if she were enjoying the conversation, she smiled politely towards the speaker, but inside, she was completely unaware of what the person was saying. In her mind, she was working out the details of her latest scene in the book she was writing, trying to figure out where she was going to put the next clue or if the murderer was going to escape.
Damon entered the living room and glanced around, his eyes taking it all in with a swift look. The house was acceptable, indicating that Joan’s firm had done their research accurately. This family was wealthy without being ostentatious. Old money, he thought. Good. His own investigation was accurate as well and he found himself congratulating himself on another step towards his ultimate goal. He hadn’t relied simply on Joan’s firm. Never accept only one point of reference, he’d learned over the years.
He didn’t engage with the other guests immediately, wanting to hold back and understand the party’s dynamics. He also wanted to observe the one woman he was interested in, the only reason he was attending this dinner party tonight.
He spotted his quarry across the room and stood back, observing her carefully. She was very attentive, sitting up straight with a lovely profile. She was slender without being too thin which was also good. He didn’t want an eating disorder, but nor did he want a wife who would let herself go as she aged.
She smiled in what seemed like the correct places of the conversation and encouraged others to talk instead of dominating the discussion. He liked that and respected her skill. His future wife would be a social asset and she would have to understand how to make other people feel important and welcome.
With a nod of approval, he moved off to find the woman’s father, ready to be introduced to his future wife.
“Good evening, George,” Damon said to the tall, refined looking gentleman standing in a group of other men sipping scotch.
George turned and looked pleased to see Damon standing beside him. “Good evening,” the older man replied with deference. “It’s certainly a pleasure that you could join us for dinner tonight,” he said and turned to make introductions to the others in the group. Damon knew most of them, having done business with them at one time or another. Several of them gave him veiled angry looks which he ignored. They hadn’t been as vigilant about their business assets and he’d taken advantage of that weakness. He couldn’t fault them for being upset about it but he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over the issue either. Besides, none would dare become blatant about their animosity, at least in his presence. The repercussions of disrespecting Damon Kelopatros meant complete financial and social destruction to anyone who openly defied or disrespected him and they all knew it.
George looked at the taller man by his side and immediately waved to a passing waiter. “Let me get you a drink, and then I’ll introduce you to my daughter. I believe she’s around here somewhere.”
Eva smiled politely, wondering