Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
And even if it had come at a cost to everyone involved.
It was crowded enough that I was able to use clusters of guests as shields as I moved from room to room, seeking one singular man.
When I felt a hand on my arm, my heart leaped and I pulled in a breath. Gage.
But when I spun toward the person who’d stopped me, I found myself staring at the man I’d met in front of the restaurant a few days before. Gage’s father.
“Mr. Buchanan, hello.”
“Ms. Casteel.”
My shoulders dropped. So he knew my real name. Of course he did. His wife must have told him after she’d confronted me. My neck felt hot and suddenly itchy.
He glanced around, the movement subtle. “May I speak with you?” he asked.
I looked around too, hoping to see Gage, hoping to be rescued. The last thing I really wanted was to speak to Gage’s father without Gage present.
But what could I do? I followed him a short distance to a room off the foyer that turned out to be an office. It was an elegant room featuring a slender, French-inspired writing desk and floral wallpaper, likely Mrs. Buchanan’s home office.
Gage’s father shut the door, the noise of the party suddenly muffled. He turned toward me. When I’d first been introduced, I’d been struck by how different he was to his son. He was a nice-looking man, and I saw traces of Gage in his features. But he was rather short, wiry, and physically average. And here he had this Adonis of a son. Certainly this man thought of him that way. He’d created the perfect dream child to ensure all that he’d worked for didn’t die. Not only was Gage everything his father was—smart, driven, successful—he was even more. What an incredible gift they must consider him. And he was. He was. But he was also his own person.
And maybe I was being unfair. Perhaps I’d misjudged entirely, but I had a feeling this man didn’t recognize that.
“You lied to the people in that room,” he said.
Shame washed over me and I felt the heat creeping up my neck. I wanted nothing but this man’s respect and I’d destroyed all possibility of that. He felt only contempt for me, as did his wife and at least a few of the people out in that room. And the rest of them would in short order, once word had spread that the new “art appraiser” was a phony. “I had a reason, Mr. Buchanan,” was all I could offer, and even I knew it was woefully inadequate. Selfish. I’d hurt people. But I’d hurt myself most of all.
“I imagine you did. But some things can’t be repaired.”
I nodded, a mass of emotion filling my chest, the hope I’d clutched as I’d entered this house dissipating like smoke.
“Gage is quite taken with you, it seems.”
I cleared my throat and clasped my hands in front of me so he couldn’t see I was shaking. Quite taken with you. What did that even mean? “I care for him too, Mr. Buchanan.” I love him in fact.
“If that’s true, Ms. Casteel, you’ll leave this party and return home to where you belong.” Where you belong. Not here. Not with his son.
I pushed my shoulders back. “I am returning home. I just wanted to see Gage one last time. I have something to tell him.”
“I’m sure whatever you have to tell him can be emailed or texted. Give him this party, this closure with his family and friends and business associates before he sets off on his new endeavor in London. He’s worked for many years toward the life that lay before him. First London, then possibly Paris, Madrid. The sky’s the limit for my son. If you’re here to thwart that, or hold him back in any way, then you can’t really care for him at all.”
A breath gusted from my mouth, heart clenching painfully.
“He won’t get these opportunities back, Aurora. Many people are depending on him. He’s been…highly agitated…not himself since he met you and I can’t have a momentary distraction destroy his entire future. You’re not the right woman for him.”
I gave a slow nod. In a way, I wanted to dislike this man, but in a way he was right. He was depending on Gage to grow his empire. But also, an entire company of employees were depending on him, not just here in Calliope, but in Europe as well. His current position had already been filled, and there was no way he wasn’t going to London.
I’d lied to myself. I’d donned this dress, a gift from Gage, and come here not only to tell him I knew who my father was, but with the small secret hope that there was a chance for us. That he’d have a solution. Or that maybe he’d ask me to stay. What a fool I was. Not only that, I was unfair. Mr. Buchanan was right. I was only making this more difficult.