Sebastian snorted and muttered under this breath. “This is going to be one long fucking dinner.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter Ten.
It was better when the music started in earnest and people began to dance. Elena was occupied with Mortimer so Sinclair took Margot for a spin while my charming brother guided Willa – who actually laughed in delight – around the floor.
It had been a long and stifling dinner and the sudden absence of tension made the air taste like ambrosia.
Candy gave me a solid thirty seconds of peace before descending on me.
“Okay, I have no idea how you are dealing with this.” She stared at me incredulously but when I didn’t respond, she huffed. “That wasn’t a rhetorical statement, Elle. How the hell are you dealing with this, this, weirdness?”
“I’m not. I mean, I’m not dealing with it well.”
“Sinclair briefed me but you know him.”
I smiled, because I did. “What did he say?”
“Oh, pfft.” She blew the bangs out of her face and I loved her for her artlessness. “Something like ‘Candace, Elle is in Manhattan. She also happens to be Elena’s sister. You’ll come to the gala tonight and see her. I would appreciate your discretion.’”
“Typical.” I nodded with mock sincerity.
“Totally,” she agreed.
We beamed at each other.
“This is a mess.”
“Totally,” I agreed.
“What are you going to do about it?”
I shrugged and the heaviness of my guilt and desire broke the filter I had kept so far over my thoughts.
“Come on, Elle, you love him. Don’t tell me you’re okay with the status quo?”
“Of course not. But what would you have me do? Ruin my sister’s life?”
Candy waved her hand dismissively. “That’s a bit dramatic. She’d be heart broken, sure, but she would get over it. Anyone can see those two aren’t soul mates.”
“Soul mates? Honestly, Candy, who can say such a thing even exists?”
“You can!”
I slumped back in my chair even though I shouldn’t have been shocked by her words. Was Sinclair my soul mate? I had never really thought about the term or what it could mean. I only knew how I felt about the enigmatic Frenchman I had met in Mexico and the gravitational pull between us. I craved him in a way that was more elemental than addiction but still dangerous, more respectful than reverential but still sacred. I wanted to be with him more than I wanted nearly anything else in the world even though I hardly knew him.
The question fell so easily into my lap that I was surprised I hadn’t seen it all along. It really came down to this; did I want him more than I wanted my sisters happiness? Did I want him enough to live with the guilt? And, I guess most importantly, did he love me enough to take those on too?
“Richard said it in Mexico and I’ll say it again; I’ve never seen Sinclair lighter or happier than I have when he was with you. I didn’t know you before, so I can’t track the same changes but I know that you love him and the girl I came to admire the hell out of in Mexico would not let something so precious go so easily.”
“She’s my sister,” I said, for what felt like the billionth time.
“Excuses.”
“A good one,” I amended but I wasn’t sure she was so wrong.
“You don’t seem to be behaving yourself, Candace.”