Gabby watched as Zander began the auction with the sale of a beautiful landscape painting—a kaleidoscope of colours that evoked the English countryside in such detail that she almost felt she could step into it. But she realised it was his pitch that called attention to and emphasised the merit of the artist, made her want to buy the picture, made her appreciate every stroke the artist had touched to the canvas.
He talked, caused laughter and a friendly competitive spirit, encouraged people to bid without being aggressive—it was a masterly performance, made all the more admirable by the speech he had made earlier.
Gabby hugged the knowledge to herself that she and only she knew what it had cost him, the emotions he’d had to master. She realised that she was proud of him.
Whoa. Careful, Gabs.
But right now she didn’t want to be careful—and there was nothing wrong with admiration anyway. There were numerous people she admired. Winston Churchill, Mother Teresa, her grandparents... Problem was, she didn’t think she’d be studying the way Winston’s hair curled on the nape of his neck, or the lithe grace with which he moved. Whereas as she looked at Zander, her tummy was tied in knots of desire.
Next to her, Julia cleared her throat, and Gabby could only pray she hadn’t been drooling.
‘He’s doing a pretty good job, isn’t he?’
Turning, Gabby attempted what she hoped was a casual smile. ‘Definitely. You have to admire that passion in someone—I think Winston Churchill was the same.’
Had she really said that?
Julia looked slightly puzzled, clearly wondering the same thing, and Gabby hurried on. ‘Anyway, it’s fantastic to see people having fun and bidding so much.’
As she spoke, the gavel pounded to indicate the painting had gone for an exorbitant sum and Zander moved on.
‘Next up is an incredible trip to the sunny climes of Portugal. A romantic three-night trip in...’
Julia nodded. ‘I’m not sure if Zander told you, but the reason he decided to do this event wasn’t only because of his own dyslexia. It’s because my son, Freddy, was diagnosed with it recently, and that seemed to trigger Zander into an absolute determination to do something. He said he wants to show Freddy it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
Great! Something else to admire about the man. Just what Gabby needed. But it was impossible not to appreciate the gesture, the drive to do more than simply offer personal support.
‘Freddy’s lucky, really—early diagnosis makes an enormous difference. I don’t think Mum will ever forgive herself for not working it out sooner with Zander. You see, Gemma and I were high achievers academically and she expected Zander to be the same. To be honest, she was baffled when he wasn’t. Never unkind, but her pep talks and lectures and the muted disappointment must have been hard for him. Of course, he’s achieved a lot now!’
‘Yes. And Zander certainly doesn’t seem to blame anyone.’
‘We feel guilty all the same. I used to tease him sometimes. Now, when I look at my Freddy and imagine people teasing him, it makes me so mad I could spit.’
Before Gabby could respond, a cheer went up and they looked to the podium as Laura Grosvenor stepped up on to the stage.
‘Oh. Mum’s won the holiday! She must have got it for her and Dad’s anniversary.’ Julia smiled fondly at her parents. ‘Dad is really quiet, but I don’t know what Mum would do without him. He is her rock. I’ll just go and congratulate them...’
The rest of the auction items went for equally exorbitant sums, and the gavel pounded a final time to much applause. But before Zander could step down, Laura Grosvenor climbed on to the stage again and took the microphone.
‘Sorry, everyone. One last thing. Zander—I am very proud of all you have achieved, tonight and throughout your life. And it occurs to me that you deserve a holiday. So here you go—this is for you. A three-day break to Portugal. And I’m sure we all know who you’ll be taking!’
As the whole room turned to look at her, Gabby strove to fix a smile of surprise and delight on her lips, even as her brain churned in incoherent panic.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOMEHOW GABBY REMAINED in role, smile in place, as she watched the scene play itself out on the podium. After a split second of shock, Zander thanked his mother with apparent sincere appreciation, cracked a couple of jokes with an aplomb she could only envy, and then he and his mother descended from the stage.
Stay in ro
le.
Horribly conscious of all the eyes on her, she rose and walked towards Laura, hand outstretched.
‘Thank you so much. That is amazingly kind of you—though you really shouldn’t have included me.’
Laura’s gaze went from one to the other of them. ‘Why ever not? I’ve had a look at the conditions and you can go as early as next week if you like.’
Her blue gaze was disconcertingly perceptive—but, charade or no charade, Gabby knew she had to try to wriggle out of this somehow. She might not have been listening completely to the description, but words like sun-kissed, romantic, cosy and perfect for two lingered in her memory.