“That’s the only thing tonight has going for it,” Bella said, her face stony.
I patted my chest. “The only thing? What about your fabulous fake boyfriend who’s here to meet the parents?”
Bella’s eyes crinkled with the first humor that I’d seen on her in a week. “You don’t have to be the fake boyfriend. You can just be the date. They wouldn’t believe that we were really together, anyway. They know me.”
They wouldn’t believe her? That’s fucked, I felt like saying. “I like a challenge,” I said instead.
“Whatever floats your paddleboat,” Bella said as we approached the door. “I appreciate you coming with me tonight.”
I hustled past Bella so I could open the door for my fake girlfriend. “This is really such a chore,” I told her, holding it open. “A night without dining hall food.”
“The food won’t be that good,” Bella warned.
“Yeah, but I’m not cooking it. Big difference.”
“And there’s free wine,” she added.
“That’s my favorite kind.” Although I couldn’t help remembering what had happened the last time Bella and I drank wine together. Dios. I needed to stop thinking about that. But Bella was wearing a sleek red dress that drew my eyes down her body to her long legs. Even though I rarely saw Bella in anything dressier than a pair of jeans and a hockey T-shirt, she had the kind of curves loose clothing couldn’t hide. And tonight they were all on display.
It was going to be a long evening.
Bella led me toward the main ballroom. Cipriani was an old New York mainstay of the banquet set. It was the sort of place that was built to impress, with high columns stretching up to a soaring ceiling. “What a dump,” I joked as Bella declined the coat check.
“I’ll keep my wrap in case we need to make a quick getaway,” she said.
Tonight I’d let Bickley lend me one of his designer jackets. Looking at the crowd in this room, I was glad I had. The men wore sleek dark suits and European ties. The women wore dresses, many of which were far more elaborate than Bella’s simple design.
None of them were half as beautiful as Bella.
“Drinks before family,” she said, grabbing my hand in order to lead me toward a bar.
I closed my fingers around her slim palm. When we reached the bartender, Bella tried to let go, but I wasn’t having it. “I always hold my fake girlfriend’s hand in a crowd,” I explained.
She shifted her handbag around her body. “Just don’t get between me and my alcoholic beverage, or your fake girlfriend is going to get ornery.”
After the bartender passed two glasses of red wine to us, Bella began to look around the room. “This boondoggle is for a public health nonprofit. But it’s all Wall Street types. Because that’s who can afford a thousand dollars a plate.”
I nearly dropped my glass. “A grand? Are you telling me that your parents spent a thousand dollars to have your fake boyfriend attend this thing?”
“Not really.” Bella gave her head a single shake. “They bought a table because my sister works for this charity. The organization is giving her an award tonight, which is why my presence was requested. But it’s just a scam, anyway. When Mommy and Daddy are one of your biggest contributors, who else are they going to hand that award to?”
Huh. The politics of Bella’s family were different than the politics of my family. But just as complicated.
“There they are,” she said suddenly, gesturing toward a round table up front.
Hand in hand, we walked over to the front corner of the room, where Bella’s parents sat. Even if she hadn’t pointed them out, I would have had no trouble identifying Bella’s mother. She was beautiful like her daughter, though her hair was swept up in a severe style Bella would never have tolerated. Her father looked much older than his wife. While Bella’s mom looked to be in her forties, Bella’s dad was sixty-five if he was a day.
Bella’s mom jumped up to kiss her when we arrived. “You look lovely, sweetheart,” she said, and I relaxed a little bit. After our conversation on the way in, I’d half expected Bella’s parents to have horns and a tail.
“This is Rafe,” Bella said, squeezing my hand. “Rafe, this is Lydia and Jack.”
I had to drop Bella’s hand in order to shake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am,” I said. “And you too, sir.”
Bella gave my finger a pinch, as if to suggest I was laying it on a little too thick.