“Meaning nothing.” He held Carlie tighter and gazed into her eyes. “Just dance with me, lady. Forget about everything else.”
She did. Snuggled in the warmth of Ben’s embrace, she listened to the music and the beating of his heart and the muted sounds of conversation and tinkling glass. It was all so perfect, so romantic...
“I never want to see you again!” Toni Fitzpatrick’s voice rang through the dining room.
The band stopped playing, instrument by instrument. Conversation lapsed. Carlie and Ben froze on the dance floor and turned, with the rest of the crowd, toward the ice-sculpture and the couple standing next to it: Toni and Phil, for whom this lavish party was thrown.
So furious she was shaking, Toni yanked off her diamond ring and hurled it across the room. “Never!” she repeated amid gasps and whispers and shocked expressions.
“Toni, please—” Phil said, his face as red as the lobster tails being served on the opposite side of the room.
“Get out! Just get the hell out!” Toni screamed, then realizing where she was, ran up the stairs. Tears streamed from her eyes and Thomas, lithe as a jungle cat, took off after her.
“I’m sorry,” Phil said to the crowd as a whole and June Fitzpatrick, who was suddenly white as a sheet, waved impatiently to the bandleader, who cleared his throat and began playing a love ballad. The rest of the band joined in, adding a soft harmony to the hushed speculation that buzzed through the guests.
“I wonder what that was all about,” Carlie whispered as Phil collected the ring and hurried up the steps.
“Looks like Toni got cold feet.” Ben took her into his arms again. “I’m not surprised. She’s a rebel and Phil Larkin is too buttoned-down for her. A lawyer and stockbroker? Boring combination.”
“Jackson’s a lawyer.”
“Jackson deals with interesting cases. I read where he just got some oil heiress off the hook. The D.A. backed off.”
“Alexandra Stillwell,” Carlie said, remembering an earlier conversation with Rachelle. “The D.A. had originally thought she’d killed her father. Turns out Jackson found evidence proving she couldn’t have done it.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Sound familiar?”
“Too familiar.”
Her mother found her. “Can you believe that?” Thelma asked, motioning to the stairs. “Walking out on your own engagement party? That Toni always was a wild one. I know, too. Saw her cutting school and hanging around the drugstore, smoking cigarettes when she should have been in class.” Thelma clucked her tongue. “Look, I think your father’s about all in—” She glanced at Ben and her spine stiffened slightly.
“The party’s about over anyway,” Carlie said. “Mom, you remember Ben.”
“I’ve heard that Carlie’s been seeing you again,” she said, her words clipped with old resentment. “I’d like to tell you that I approve because I believe that bygones should be bygones, but I remember—”
“Mom, please,” Carlie cut in, realizing too late that her mother’s tongue had been loosened by the champagne.
Thelma’s face clouded over. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” she said, and Ben shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Look, Mrs. Surrett,” he said, his features sober, his gaze sincere as he met Thelma’s, “I know I made some mistakes, some big ones where Carlie is concerned. I won’t insult you with excuses. I can only tell you that I won’t be making the same mistakes twice.”
“I hope not,” Thelma replied and walked to the elevator where her husband was waiting for her.
“I’ve got to go,” Carlie said.
“Me, too.” Ben squared his shoulders. “While I’m mending fences, I may as well fix them all.” He walked with her to the elevator and met Weldon’s harsh glare with his steady gaze. He looked like a captured soldier walking into an enemy headquarters, Carlie thought as she noticed the tension in all of Ben’s muscles. He extended his hand to her father who, after a second’s hesitation, clasped it. “Mr. Surrett.”
“Powell.” Weldon’s mouth tightened.
After a few minutes of small talk as Ben inquired into Carlie’s father’s health, Weldon said, “You may as well know, I told Carlie she should stop seein’ you. It’s the same advice I gave her ten years ago, and I think it still stands.”
“I hope to prove you wrong.”
“You can’t, boy,” he said, shaking his head and motioning for his wife to hit the elevator call button. “It’s not in your nature.”
“I might surprise you.”
“I hope so.” The elevator landed and a bell chimed softly. As the doors whispered open, Thelma pushed her husband into the waiting car.
“I’ll see you later,” Carlie said to Ben.