Reunion for the First Time (20 page)

Instead of crushing her, the turn of events challenged her. Helping Charlie had brought her and Jack together in the first place. Perhaps it would again. All the disturbing emotions she had experienced recently—like regret, nagging doubt, insecurity that sex was all men wanted from women thanks to Wallace—had crystallized into one certainty. She wanted Jack Clark.

After rubbing rose-scented lotion that contained little sparkles all over her body, she put on a lacy strapless bra and thong and slipped into a strapless gown of Christmas green velvet that skimmed the floor, draping her body softly and luxurious against her skin. She lined her eyes with emerald green and highlighted them with deep gray shadow for dramatic effect. The diamond butterfly choker that Charlie had given her was clasped around her neck, and she fastened her mother’s diamond studs on her ears.

Charlie had given her Mari’s diamond, tennis bracelet as an early Christmas present, and Lizzie wore that, too. She was comforted to take remembrances of her mom and her soul sister along with her for a special evening.

The look on Charlie’s face when she greeted him at the door hit her target dead center. A good dose of male appreciation boosted her spirits.

“You look sensational, Lizzie girl. You’ll be beating men off with a stick.”

He looked handsome in a black tuxedo. Still slim, but so much healthier, his dark blue eyes startled her, so much like Jack’s.

Inhaling deeply to shake off the image, “You look wonderful, Charlie.”

He produced a florist box from behind his back and gave it to her.

The corsage of white roses smelled heavenly, her favorite fragrance. She brought the roses near her face and breathed in the floral perfume. “Mmm. They’re perfect, Charlie. Thank you.” Stretching the band over her wrist, she kissed his cheek.

Outside he led her to a black Porsche, so highly polished she could see their reflections in its mirrored surface. He opened its door. She lifted the hem of her gown and tucked herself in the low seat.

“Whoa. Hot car. When did you buy a car, Charlie?”

“I didn’t. It’s Jack’s.”

He swung around the car and got in next to her.

“Won’t he need it tonight?” Her spirits sank at the prospect that Jack wouldn’t be there.

“Nope, he’s already got a ride, so I asked if I could borrow the Porsche. It’s got a lot of courage.”

“I’ll bet it does.”

Charlie proved the statement as he gunned the car into the stream of traffic on Kinsey Street, then turned north on Clark. Like a kid on a carnival ride, she watched the blur of the car reflected in the storefront windows. She liked riding in Jack’s car. It smelled like him and reminded Lizzie of him, too—midnight black handsome, sleek and powerful.

The location of the Performing Arts Building was obvious from blocks away. Huge Klieg lights threw crisscrossed beams into the icy black night. In front of the building, attendants opened the doors on either side of the car at the same time. She walked around to Charlie on the arm of the attendant. Charlie held out his arm to her, and she placed her hand in the fold of his elbow to walk together on a red carpet runner into the building.

The lobby had been transformed into a Christmas extravaganza. Dressed in evening gowns and tuxedos, all the other couples milled around in elegant pandemonium and looked like some super race of beautiful people. Everywhere silver garlands and wreaths of fresh pine trimmed with red velvet bows glittered with white lights.

In one corner of the lobby, a line formed along the side of a huge decorated Christmas tree donated by the former Marshall Field turned Macy’s department store, to the dismay of Chicagoans who complained for months about the Field family selling out. A photographer took digital pictures of couples beneath the tree. An assistant worked the keys of a laptop with flying fingers. She printed, framed and handed photographs to each couple with a smile.

Charlie lifted two flutes of champagne from a waiter’s tray and gave one to her.

“To Mari and a cure for this despicable disease.” He clinked her glass.

She fingered the tiny butterfly at her neck. “To Mariposa with love. She would have adored this, Charlie.”

He tucked her hand over his arm and moved her along with him. “Let’s go get our picture taken for our place cards.”

By his side, Lizzie strolled toward the tree. “Place cards?”

“Yep.”

Closer to the tree, Lizzie appreciated its various sized butterfly ornaments, metal, silk, and stained glass, in a riot of colors.

“Oh, Charlie! These are gorgeous! Mari would flip over this tree.”

In place in the line, Lizzie continued to admire the decorations.

“It was my idea. It’s being raffled off tonight. Just about everything you see here is for sale, except for me and Jack.” Charlie laughed. “We gave some thought to raffling ourselves off, too. You know, win a date with bachelor number one, or bachelor number two? But I’m not interested in a date, even for charity, and Jack refused claiming he’s already taken.”

He was so matter of fact with this information, that Lizzie almost missed it. “Taken?” Her heart skipped a beat.

Charlie looked at her curiously. “That’s what he said. What do you think he meant by that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s ask him.”

Lizzie turned in the direction Charlie faced. Jack advanced toward them like a hunter, each muscle moving with grace. Then she noticed the stunning woman at his side. She was statuesque, easily five ten or more. Her hair was a cap of sable and auburn spikes. She wore a black fitted cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. The silky material molded to her body like it was sewn onto her curves and could barely contain her ample cleavage.

How had she forgotten how amazing Jack looked in a tuxedo? All man. With another woman on his arm. A lush woman that was Lizzie’s polar opposite. She had never thought about Jack with another woman. How stupid. Even more stupid was the fact that she had been pining over a man she knew almost nothing about. Pretty naïve that she had presumed Jack meant her in his
already taken
remark.

The couple reached them and Jack circled his arm around the woman’s waist. “Hello, Lizzie,” his friendly tone drove home the implied
just friends
status with her.

Her heart fell when he didn’t call her Beth, punctuating her fall from grace. She plastered on a smile.

Jack made the introduction, “Lizzie Moran, Gina Bianco.”

Lizzie extended her hand to Gina, but was engulfed in a warm hug instead. A waft of earthy musk enveloped her.

Gina moved on to hug Charlie. A brilliant smile lit her perfect features. Mischief and eagerness danced in her amber eyes like the world was her playground.

The woman dripped sensuality. “Good to see you again, Charlie. This is a beautiful event. What is this line for?”

“Photos for place cards,” Jack replied.

“Mind if we cut in?” Gina swished a hip, stepped in front of Lizzie and pulled Jack up to her with a tug of her French manicured hand.

Jack’s arm brushed Lizzie’s. He turned, met her eyes. For a moment Gina’s presence evaporated along with any other woman in the room. Lizzie’s heart lurched, but she didn’t break eye contact. She could look for hours into his dark, magnetic eyes full of pure masculine confidence, dangerous and sexy as hell. A smile flickered in the corners of his lips, and then bloomed, while his eyes held hers conveying the intimate message that magnetism worked both ways.

Lizzie’s lips curled in a slow smile. Men had wanted her before, but not the way Jack had. And in the depths of those navy blue eyes, she saw desire. He still wanted her. And she wanted him.

The line inched forward, and she broke eye contact with Jack. Jack and Gina stepped forward and followed the photographer’s directions for their pose, turning toward each other while Lizzie trained an analytical eye on them. Gina’s European flair complimented Jack’s “black Irish” looks. They appeared to be at ease with each other.

But I make him uneasy.

Jack grabbed Gina’s hand and walked away. Lizzie took her turn to stand in front of the tree with Charlie. The photographer directed them to stand on strips of tape on the floor. Charlie circled Lizzie’s back with his arm. She leaned in to his side and rested her hand with the circle of delicate roses at her wrist on his arm.

A light bulb flashed. At a nearby table, Lizzie was handed a framed photograph.

She was delighted with the photo and Charlie’s genuine smile.

“Charlie. Look at this engraving on the frame. It says ‘1st Annual Mariposa Arana-Clark Ball Benefiting Cancer Research.’ And our names are on the bottom. ‘Mr. Charles Clark escorting Ms. Elizabeth Moran.’ What a wonderful keepsake. I love it.”

“Told you, Lizzie. Place cards.”

Hugging the frame possessively, she browsed the rows of silent auction tables skirted in crimson linen and draped with pine garland. Companies and individuals had donated every item imaginable to the silent auction. Bigger ticket items would be auctioned off after dinner.

Gleefully shopping for charity, Lizzie placed her bids for spa treatments, tickets to see
Wicked
and a box at a Cubs game. The item that she most wanted to win was the
Star of Hope
necklace commissioned by the American Cancer Society to pass from cancer survivors to prospective cancer survivors, and she couldn’t resist bidding on a glitzy dog collar for Marty. She hoped that she’d win them all.

The vintage ballroom looked magnificent. White Christmas lights blended with candlelight and evergreens scented the air. Oak floors gleamed beneath the 19
th
century crystal chandeliers. Jack and Gina were seated at her table, and Lizzie was too wired to taste her food. As the dessert course was served, Jack left the table and walked to the center of the dance floor.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He waited a moment while the crowd quieted.

Lizzie couldn’t stop the tears from streaming after hearing Jack and Charlie’s speeches about Mari and her beautiful soul, especially as she watched Charlie’s quiet tears.

Jack turned tears into laughter when he put on a straw, boater hat and brandished the cane a volunteer handed him. “Now ladies and gentlemen, prepare to part with some money.” He pointed the cane at a screen that dropped from the ceiling.

By the end of the auction, Lizzie figured Jack had teased over a quarter of a million dollars out of wallets, bank accounts and credit cards. The man is a charmer. But so much more. He may not want commitment, may be the worst man for me to get involved with, but who cares? He’s a good brother to Charlie. Mari loved him, trusted him. She vowed that if given another chance, she wouldn’t resist Jack again.

When the dancing began, Lizzie itched to join in. Gina tugged Jack out to the dance floor and didn’t sit out a song no matter what the band played. Lizzie watched them, envious and dispirited. No choice but to bide her time and see if there was an opportunity to ask Jack to dance.

Charlie sat next to her, legs angled straight in front of him. “You want to dance with Jack, Lizzie?” His quizzical expression dared her to deny it.

She laughed at her lack of subtlety. “Why yes, I believe I do. But I’m wrestling with how I’ll go about that. Any suggestions?”

“Sure.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “Follow me, little sister.”

Gyrating to a Michael Jackson medley was great fun. Next up was
The Way You Look Tonight.

“I
love
this song.” She stood a foot away from Charlie and did an involuntary sway with the music. “It’s the perfect song to dance with your partner.”

Charlie opened his arms and winked. “We better get you over to him, then.”

Lizzie stepped into Charlie’s arms, heart pounding with anticipation. He held her loosely and led her smoothly in Jack and Gina’s direction.

“Switch partners, bro,” Charlie directed Jack, the ring of the superior elder sibling in his voice.

****

The look on Beth’s face packed so much earthy female power that it punched Jack below the waist. He wanted her right here, right now. Seduced, he passed a willing Gina over to Charlie, took Beth’s hand and moved her into the circle of his arms. Her body molded to his. Dancing to this song—one of his favorites because it never failed to get a lady in the mood—petrified him with Beth. Every minute of the day since he had last seen her, all he thought about was seeing her again, which was a first. But he hadn’t acted and had avoided calling her; afraid that with Beth there’d be no turning back.

“What a lovely evening this has been.” Her warm smile beguiled him. “You and Charlie did such a good job.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Even to himself, he sounded formal and forced. It unnerved him that he couldn’t be easy-going, casual. Not to mention how aroused he was with the sweet rose-scented woman brushing against him. Her bare arms and shoulders gleamed in the dim light. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Why did she disarm him, haunt him despite the good sense of his decision to leave her to Wally and forget about her?

He looked down at her and met her gaze. Stars danced in her eyes from reflected light. The hall’s noises receded into the background, the other dancers a blur of motion. Only Beth was clearly in focus as if locked in a private place with him.

“I won’t see Wallace again, Jack. I’ve been wanting to tell you that.” An expectant gleam in her wide green eyes, she grinned.

Was this an invitation?

Jack suppressed commenting, and regarded her passively. He was speechless with a surge of triumph that Wally was out of the picture. Her hopeful expression dissolved with her down-turned smile, “I like your lady, Gina. She’s very nice.”

He trumpeted a laugh. “Yes, she is very nice. But she’s also very independent. She’d
hate
being referred to as my lady. We’re friends.”

She nestled her head on his chest, and the silken crown of her hair rested near his lips. A sigh ran through her, through him. His heart beat faster, just like the first night at the reunion when he’d held her in his arms. Then, she was fiercely loyal to a man who couldn’t hope to deserve her. Since then Jack had begun to hope that she’d be fiercely loyal to him instead.