“Oh, no, we’re not,” I explained as he led me toward the grand staircase. “We’re just . . . friends.” As if he’d heard something strange in my tone, he glanced my way, his eyes lingering on my face.
“Gage, darling,” an older woman said, sweeping up to us, her dark hair in a sleek chignon, her champagne-colored dress the picture of class and elegance, “have you seen your father? I’ve lost him again. I swear, I need to keep that man on a leash.” Laughter filled her tone.
“He’s in the billiards room sampling the cigars Mr. Henderson brought.”
Gage’s mother managed to make rolling her eyes look refined. “I should have known. It’s where he always hides.”
Billiards room. I felt dizzy and suddenly had the strange urge to laugh and cry simultaneously. I was with Gage. In his beautiful, perfect, family home.
Where there was a billiards room. I didn’t even know exactly what that was except that, well, it was probably used for billiards and apparently hiding from your wife.
“Mom, this is Haven Torres,” Gage said. “She works at the club.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Buchanan.” I stiffened momentarily, waiting for Mrs. Buchanan’s reaction to the fact that I was hired help. But she didn’t bat an eyelash.
“Haven, dear, so nice to meet you. Aren’t you lovely. My goodness, what I wouldn’t give for your hair.”
I smiled. There was nothing phony about this woman. She was warm and gracious and her compliment felt sincere. She was perfect. But of course she was. “I better run and catch my husband before he finds another hiding spot. Have a wonderful evening.” And with that, she swept off.
Gage and I chatted as he showed me to the bar, set up in a wide-open space on the second floor, where chandeliers shimmered, and heavy drapery adorned individual balconies that flanked the space. “Wow,” I murmured as Gage handed me a flute of champagne.
“So where are you from, Haven, and how long will you be staying in Pelion?”
“I’m from California, and I’m only here for the summer. My brother—who I’m traveling with—and I both took seasonal jobs at the club. We’ll leave once the season has ended.” Why on earth did I just say all of that in such a flat, practiced way? Was I so used to every aspect of my life being so temporary? Thankfully, Gage didn’t seem put off by it.
We’d wandered out of the grand room and into a hallway. Gage opened a door and led me outside on to a larger balcony featuring benches and potted trees adorned in twinkle lights. Something flowery and lovely met my nose, drifting from somewhere close by.
I wondered vaguely where Travis might be and who he’d gone to find.
Gage gestured to a bench where I sat down and then he joined me. It felt private and intimate and my heart picked up speed. “Tell me about yourself, Haven.”
A small jolt of panic flared in my stomach. What a terrible question. For anyone really, but especially for me. I swayed, feeling slightly woozy. What angle should I take? How could I tell someone—anyone really, but especially Gage Buchanan—about myself without revealing anything much at all? My pulse jumped. And how would I do that without sounding like the most boring human on earth? I remembered teachers going around the room asking that question when I was in school, recalling the way dread would sit heavy on my shoulders as my turn approached, my cheeks hot, head ringing. But Gage was only being nice. Kind. Because he was both of those things.
Of course, Travis would know what to say. Travis would have the perfect strategic answer that would convey just the right thing to pique Gage’s interest. And why was I thinking of Travis? Travis was the last person I should be thinking about right now. I fidgeted slightly, feeling suddenly strange and off-balance, nervous, and twitchy. All over the place.
I took a breath, placed my palms on the cool stone of the bench, and smiled. “Well,” I said slowly, “I’m adventurous. It seemed like the adventure of a lifetime to get in my car, and just start driving, see where life took us, you know? Seize the day, that’s my motto.” My voice fizzled out toward the end of my statement, squashing the enthusiasm I’d intended on conveying. The adventurous spirit. Look at me! I do wild things like hop in my car and just start driving! Like summer