We’ve made our own little oasis. But that doesn’t make it any less of an illusion.
I scan the crowd, but I’m too short to see above the black tuxes and fancy hairdos. “Have you happened to see Honor around?”
Mrs. Di Donato winks. “I saw her leaving the ballroom with Byron a few minutes ago. Young love is a beautiful thing.”
I manage some kind of nod that convinces her before makin
g my excuses. Then I’m crossing the ballroom. I readjust the shawl as I go, making sure it’s covering my cleavage. My feet are aching after hours of standing in heels—seriously, whoever invented these was a masochist. Or a sadist. But they don’t slow me down. Whatever is going on between Honor and Byron, it’s not love. I have to check on her.
A man stops in front of me. I start to go around him, but he touches my arm.
I flinch back. Only then do I realize he was stopping me on purpose.
He smiles. “Are you Clara?”
I’ve never seen this man before. And I have no desire to meet him now. “Excuse me. I’m looking for my sister.”
He grins, mouth stretching wide. He looks kind of like a movie star, and I don’t like it. “I’m afraid she’s indisposed at the moment. I hope that will give you a few minutes to talk to me.”
I’m standing in the middle of hundreds of people, but I’ve never felt more alone. I don’t know where Honor is. She could be anywhere in the house. Heck, she could have left the house. And with Byron, who is no doubt hurting her in some way. He will always hurt her. There’s no way we can stop him. As I stand in the crowded room, a deep and sorrowful certainty takes root.
We have to go. Leave. There’s no reason to wait.
There’s no reason to hope things will get better.
The only thing to do is leave—and never see Gio again.
“Excuse me,” I say again, this time more quietly. I’m breaking apart inside. “I think I need to be alone.”
His expression turns apologetic. “Actually, Honor sent me to check on you. She knew she’d be busy and wanted to make sure you had someone by your side.”
I narrow my eyes. Is he flat out lying to me? It feels that way. Honor would know I don’t want some weirdo stranger hovering around me. But then again, she does get protective sometimes. Maybe she did worry about me in the ballroom by myself.
But why not send someone I actually knew? Or at least introduce me to him first?
Then again, it’s not like Byron would have given her time to do anything. If he says to jump off a cliff, he’s already pushing you off. That’s how he operates.
I look back at the party. I do feel sick now. Sick of smiling. Sick of pretending. I want to be in the pool house, teasing Giovanni. But it’s still my sister’s party. And I don’t need to listen to my intuition to know she might be hurting right now. I have to find her before I go. I’ll make sure she’s okay. Then I’ll make excuses so I can sneak to the pool house.
“Can you bring me to my sister?” I ask the strange man.
“Of course.” His smile disarms me. He actually looks pretty nice when he’s not blocking my path and being pushy. “She just stepped outside for some air.”
* * *
The lights strung up over the patio cast the rest of the lawn into darkness. I can’t even see the outline of the pool house from here. A couple is making out, half-hidden by a bush, but they stop when they see us. Actually, not us. Him. Whoever this guy is, he makes their eyes widen and they run inside, straightening their clothes as they go.
“Where’s my sister?” I say.
He absently scans the dark landscape. “She’ll be along.”
It’s not only secluded here. It’s quiet. Much quieter than the voices and five-string orchestra inside. It makes me feel a little stranded, being out here alone with him, with no one to hear me. “Umm, what did you say your name was again?”
“Markam,” he says with an easy smile. “Javier Markam.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Wasn’t he in the news about some big controversy? “The governor’s son?”
“Does my reputation precede me?”