A Scandal Made At Midnight

Another evening, another event. There was no point checking his watch because the party hadn’t even begun yet. And if he wanted the publicity to work, he was going to have to stay more than his usual fifteen minutes. Alessandro took a sip of champagne as he glanced towards the doors of the mirrored ballroom of Rossi’s Los Angeles Hotel, a modern building of glass and steel, but one that still promised old world luxury and elegance. Where was Ella? And, he wondered with an even greater impatience, where was Liane?

He hadn’t seen either of them since they’d arrived at the hotel, when they’d gone to their suite while he’d checked in with the local management. He’d done his best to focus on the work at hand but, irritatingly, his mind had kept drifting—not to Ella, who had kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way from the airport to the hotel, exclaiming about the blue sky and the palm trees and the YouTubers who apparently lurked on every corner, but to Liane, who had been quiet and withdrawn, her face turned to the tinted window of the limo.

She hadn’t looked at him once and he’d found it annoyed him, a fact that then caused him even more annoyance. He didn’t want to be affected by anyone, and certainly not a little mouse like Liane Blanchard. Except she wasn’t a mouse, even if sometimes she seemed as if she liked to act like one. Why—and how—did she slip under his skin the way she seemed to, without even trying? Why did he care what she thought, what she was feeling? Why, even now, could he remember the exact shade of her eyes, the tiny freckle at the corner of her mouth?

It was all so ridiculous. He was here to do a job, perform a function, and then return to Rome and the more important business he had there. The last thing he needed was a distraction—or a temptation in the form of a woman whose lavender eyes he couldn’t get out of his mind.

‘Alessandro!’

He turned at the sound of Ella’s musical trill. She looked stunning, and yet his gaze was already moving past her, searching the empty corridor.

‘Where’s Liane?’

‘She’s still getting ready, but I didn’t want to be late. I wanted to take some shots of the ballroom—look.’ She brandished her phone, but Alessandro could barely be bothered to scroll through the photos she’d taken.

‘So you approve the post?’ Ella asked as she slipped her phone back into her tiny beaded bag. ‘Or do you even care?’ There was a hint of amusement in her voice that had Alessandro’s gaze snapping back to her laughing one.

‘Yes, I approve.’

‘Oh, good. And here I was, worried that you’d be sticking your nose in too much, telling me how to do my job.’ She raised her eyebrows as she eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Right now I get the feeling you couldn’t care less about any of this. Or me.’

‘I leave the social media expertise to you, naturally.’ He smiled tightly. ‘Wasn’t that the arrangement?’ His gaze moved past her yet again, to the doors. Guests were beginning to trickle in, waiters circulating with trays of champagne and canapés, the music starting up. Where was Liane?

‘Now I do believe it’s time for you to sparkle,’ he told Ella. He took her arm, smiling in greeting at an online entrepreneur he’d met in passing a few months ago along with his latest girlfriend, a Hollywood starlet, who was already starting to gush. He could already tell this evening was going to feel like for ever, every minute ticking by like an hour. And where the hell, he wondered again, was Liane?

An hour passed, every minute feeling endless, just as he’d known it would. Ella, at least, was in fine form, chatting and laughing and tossing her curls for the camera, while Alessandro did his best not to look as distracted and bored as he felt. He still hadn’t seen Liane and Ella must have noticed, for as she plucked a second glass of champagne from a passing tray she remarked dryly, ‘I saw her slip out to the terrace a little while ago, if you’re looking for her.’

‘Looking for who?’ Alessandro asked, and Ella rolled her eyes.

‘Liane, of course. You’ve been scanning the ballroom all evening searching for her. Fortunately I’m not offended.’ Her smile was playful although the expression in her eyes was dangerously speculative. ‘Like I said, she’s out on the terrace.’

‘I wasn’t looking for her,’ Alessandro replied stiffly. ‘I just wondered where she was.’

‘Well, now you know,’ Ella returned flippantly, toasting him with her glass. ‘So you can find her if you want to. You seem to be very curious about her whereabouts, at any rate. And now I’m going to go sparkle some more.’ She started off, tossing over her shoulder, ‘Good luck with your search.’

He told himself he wasn’t going to go out on the terrace; there was no need for him to look for Liane, never mind actually find her. He’d mingle for a few minutes more and then he’d call it a night and do some work up in his penthouse suite. He continued to tell himself that as he walked towards the doors that led out to the wide terrace overlooking Beverly Hills, now shadowed in darkness, and then stepped through them. He scanned the clusters of chatting guests but he didn’t see Liane among them. He wasn’t actually looking for her, he told himself as he wandered amidst the groups of people, greeting and chatting as necessary. He was just mingling, as required.

And then, as he rounded the last corner, he found her, in an alcove off by herself, her hands on the balustrade as she gazed out at the city, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze.

‘Why are you hiding?’ he demanded, and she turned to him, no doubt startled by his aggressive tone.

‘I’m not hiding. I don’t particularly like parties, and two in quick succession are quite enough for me. I just wanted some air.’ There was a defensiveness to her tone that both rankled and touched him. He didn’t like the thought of her spending the whole evening hiding out here, and why? To get out of Ella’s way?

‘You’ve been out here for some time, I should think. I haven’t seen you in the ballroom at all.’

Her chin tilted, her eyes flashing. ‘Have you been looking for me?’ she asked, her tone rather disdainfully incredulous, and he stiffened.

‘I merely wondered where you were.’

She shrugged. ‘Now you know.’

He stared at her, and she glared back. Why were they arguing? Somehow they’d both been put on the defensive and he wasn’t sure how or why, only that he felt off balance, unsettled by her very presence affecting him in all sorts of ways. He should just turn around and walk away, but for some reason he didn’t.

‘Were you hiding out here for a reason?’ he asked and she shrugged, still defensive. ‘You belong at this party as much as Ella does,’ he said, feeling his way through the words, and Liane gave him a sceptical look.

‘No, I don’t, and in any case I don’t want to be.’ She hesitated, and then said with an attempt at a laugh, ‘Never mind ridiculous shoes, you must realise this dress is even more ridiculous.’ Her lips turned up in a forced smile. ‘In fact, it’s ugly.’

He glanced down at the dress and had to concede that, even though he hadn’t noticed before, the dress left something to be desired.

‘It may not be the latest fashion,’ he allowed, ‘but if you don’t like it, why are you wearing it?’

She let out a huff of weary laughter as she turned back to the view, her slender hands resting on the railing. ‘I’m not really sure.’

‘Was there something else? Ella assured me that your wardrobe was taken care of—’

‘Her wardrobe. I could have worn one of her fashion designer friends’ dresses, it’s true, but they didn’t suit me, and I’d just look silly wearing something plunging to my navel and slashed to my thigh.’

Alessandro’s blood heated at the thought of her wearing such an outfit, but he kept his expression neutral as he answered, ‘If you cannot find a gown to suit you, then we must buy one. We’ll go shopping tomorrow, before our flight leaves for London.’

She turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise. ‘What? No.’

‘Why not?’ Alessandro was baffled by her resistance. ‘There’s time, and you need to be suitably attired.’ And, he knew, he wanted to spend time with her. Buy lovely things for her. See her in them...

‘Fine,’ Liane countered, her chin tilting up. ‘I can pick out my own dress, then.’

Alessandro found he didn’t particularly care for that notion. ‘Nonsense. You don’t know the city or its boutiques, and as I’m the one who invited you on this trip it is my responsibility to make sure you have all that you require. We’ll go together.’

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes dark and troubled, her body stiff with tension. ‘Don’t feel sorry for me,’ she warned him at last.

‘Feel sorry for you?’ he repeated, his eyebrows rising in surprise. ‘Why would I feel sorry for you?’

Liane simply shook her head. ‘I might not be as glamorous or beautiful as Ella, but I don’t need to be your pity project.’ She started to move past him and he caught her arm.

‘Liane, that is not what this is about. I don’t pity you. If anything...’ He hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much about what he felt. Hell, he didn’t even know what he felt, and he certainly didn’t want to think about it too much. But he did want to take her shopping tomorrow, he realised. Quite a lot. ‘Ella is starting to give me a headache,’ he said at last. ‘All that chatting and laughing and tossing her hair. It’s exhausting. To tell you the truth, I’d rather be out here on the terrace as well.’ With you. He swallowed down the words. He had no intention of admitting that much, even to himself. It wasn’t as if he needed her...or anyone.

A small smile flirted with her mouth and then slipped away. ‘You made a rod for your own back with all these parties.’

‘I suppose I did.’ He let go of her arm, even though he didn’t particularly want to. ‘Now, tomorrow. Meet me in the lobby at ten o’clock in the morning. That will give us a few hours before we have to leave for London.’

‘And Ella? Should she come too?’ she asked, and he realised how little he wanted Ella to accompany them. He’d been envisioning a day spent together, just the two of them, Ella nowhere to be found.

‘If she needs some new dresses, she’s welcome to come along, of course,’ he replied after a moment. How could he say anything else? And really, perhaps it was better if Ella did come along. His feelings for Liane Blanchard already felt too complicated, too much. He’d been acting decidedly out of character, doing and saying and thinking things he didn’t normally, and all because of this beguiling woman. It unsettled him for all sorts of reasons, and yet he didn’t need any distractions from the business at hand and he certainly had no intention of taking this fascination he felt for her anywhere.

And yet he still found he was looking forward to tomorrow.