My father measured me with an arched eyebrow. "Penn, unfortunately, has the supreme confidence that he is irreplaceable. It often mars his manners."
He knew. Xavier knew I had lied to Corsica about our connection. He also knew he held the balance of the room in his hand. Corsica thought I was nothing but his employee, perhaps nothing more than a groundskeeper, and I was certain my father weighed out what that information was worth as he strolled casually across the music room floor.
Then, to my shock, he sat down at the piano and played a few flawless bars of the song Corsica had been singing. "Penn, pop that champagne before I fire you. Now, dear Corsica, how about a song? Even trade: I get to hear your heavenly voice, and you can ask me anything about my wayward employee here."
She shook her head, and I thanked her shyness. Now all I had to do was maneuver her away from my father before his charm boosted her confidence. I was caught between two lies, and it was more important that Corsica was on my side than it was for her to know I was a Templeton.
"We'll let you warm up," I told my father.
I steered Corsica towards the silver tray where we could have a moment of whispered conversation.
"You work for Xavier Templeton," she leaned close to me so he wouldn't hear us. "And you didn't think that was important enough to mention?"
"No. We have an, um, contentious business arrangement. Long story." I took a deep breath and dove in. "The vital part of the story is that he now thinks we're a couple. Is there any way you could just go with that and save me?"
Corsica's blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "I don't know," she sighed as I popped the champagne cork. "You're really not my type. No one's going to believe it."
I shoved a full champagne flute into her hand. "Pretty please?"
She took the glass with one hand as the other trailed up my arm and squeezed my shoulder. "Well, since you asked so nicely, darling."
My stomach was still kicking from the electricity of her touch when I turned to my father. "One for you?"
"No, thank you."
Then, Corsica slipped her arm around my waist, and I lost the ability to think straight.
My father smiled at us. "I know I am terribly out of practice," he said, his fingers still dancing over the ivory keys, "but I'm still hoping to tempt another song out of you."
Corsica gave a breathy giggle and took a sip of her champagne. "Your playing is beau
tiful. I never learned to play piano."
The tinkling music stopped. "You never learned piano? But you have such perfect pitch."
She shook her head. "Shameless flattery. My mother pushed for piano lessons when I was young, but my father thought it was a waste of time."
"A shame," Xavier said. "Children should be encouraged to follow their talents."
I snorted. My father had never once encouraged me to pursue my passions or my talents. If my interests didn't align with the vision of his future empire, then he made certain they were cut off.
Xavier cut off my slip-up with a dramatic crescendo. Corsica forgot my strange reaction and smiled at my father's impressive piano playing. She moved in to lean against the side of the baby grand piano.
I took a few steps back and felt a heavy weight drop into my chest. I never knew my father could play piano. My last memories of him were as a weaving snake of a drunk that could strike at any moment. He had shown no interest in the piano other than a convenient resting place for his always-full drink.
As I stood there watching my father charm Corsica with his nimble playing, the weight in my chest turned to resentment. Everything was effortless for Xavier Templeton. The only thing he had ever failed at was having a family, and now that was swept so far under the rug that no one would ever connect us.
I moved forward and snagged Corsica's tight waist. "I'm sure my boss has an early morning meeting. I know he's a charming host, but we should be going."
"Did you know he could play like that?" Corsica asked.
"No," I said more forcefully than I intended. "I had no idea he could play the piano, and you would think that would be something that he would have shared with me."
Her delicate eyebrows knitted together. "Sorry, I guess it is silly to think he'd share that with an employee."
"Corsica, why don't you indulge me just a moment more and tell me how you and Penn met? I find I'm becoming quite the romantic in my old age," Xavier said.
"We ran into each other at a dance club, then I heard her sing, and the rest is history," I barked over Corsica's head at my father.