“Grace, I was worried when I couldn’t find you,” Victoria said, and she air-kissed her daughter’s cheek.
“It’s not that big a party,” Grace said with a smile in place.
“Don’t act so modest, Grace. This is a beautiful party. You’ve done well,” Donald said before he leaned in and actually let his lips make contact with her cheek.
“I’m not being modest. I’ve planned parties on a much larger scale than this one,” she told her parents.
“That’s not being very professional, Grace. I wouldn’t speak about other clients while at an event for one who is paying you well now,” Victoria said while patting her hair and looking around to make sure no one could overhear them.
Cam said nothing while this little exchange was taking place, but he noticed that Victoria Sinclair was dressed to the nines in a beaded blue gown that hugged her curves and flared below her hips. Diamonds hung around her neck and dripped from her ears—a shining statement of financial worth.
She was polished and composed and . . . fake. She was everything Grace wasn’t, and not in a good way. Grace tried to hide who she truly was, but she couldn’t. She was able to put up walls, but Cam had figured out ways to tear them back down.
Her father was beset by pride, but he was quiet and more difficult to read than his wife. The small talk between parents and daughter was awkward, impersonal, and loveless.
“You’re being quite rude, Grace. Who is your date?” Victoria asked, and she focused entirely on Cam.
“You remember Camden Whitman, don’t you?” Grace’s arm tightened around his waist as if she were afraid to let him go and possibly hug her mother.
“Oh, Cam! It’s been so long,” Victoria gushed. “And you’ve grown into quite the handsome young man.” She gripped his free arm and squeezed before leaning in for him to kiss her cheek.
Cam performed the obligatory gesture of socialites before leaning back and pulling Grace closer to him with one arm while sticking out the other and shaking Donald’s hand.
“We’ve been away from Sterling for a long time now. I hope your father and brothers are well,” Donald said.
“Yes, they’re quite well.” He didn’t add anything more. Why should he? These people didn’t really care. This was just meaningless chitchat to pass the time until they could get away from each other—civilization and its discontents.
Cam had attended many events like this one, and it never failed to make him appreciate where he’d been privileged enough to grow up. Sterling was a great community with honest people who had real emotions.
“How long have the two of you been seeing each other this time around?”
Before Cam could say anything, Grace answered.
“We aren’t dating. Cam was just kind enough to accompany me this evening.”
“Oh . . . with his arm wrapped around you, I just assumed . . .” Victoria let the sentence trail away.
“As you know, we’ve been friends for a very long time,” Grace said.
Cam knew she didn’t share personal information with her parents, but he still felt slightly annoyed that she’d denied they were a couple. Hell, they’d just been off in the corner making out. If they weren’t a couple, he sure as heck didn’t know how to describe what they were.
The need to make this woman care about him was almost consuming him, and that wasn’t something Cam was happy about. Yes, he loved Grace. But she shouldn’t make him forget anything and everything else other than her.
It scared him. And it made him want to retreat, especially while he was standing in front of her cold parents. No. He shouldn’t be thinking that. If anything, Grace needed him now more than ever.
He wouldn’t abandon her, not this time.
“I see that Olivia is motioning for us. You two have a lovely evening.” And just as quickly as Grace’s parents had arrived, they took off.
“I’m sorry. They aren’t the most pleasant of people to visit with,” Grace told him as she pulled her arm from him.
He reached for her again, but she stepped back.
“Your parents have always cared above all for themselves,” Cam said. “It’s such a shame.”
“Isn’t it ridiculous that I even care?” She laughed but he couldn’t miss the pain.
“No. Even if your parents turned out to be serial killers, you would still feel something toward them. No matter what they’ve been, they gave you life, and that makes you feel a certain . . . I don’t know the right word . . . obligation, maybe, to love them.”
“Yeah, something like that,” she mumbled, but Cam knew he needed to change the subject.
Before he got the chance, Kitty approached. “I’ve been looking for you, but we keep getting stopped,” the young woman said with her ever-present giggle.
“Is everything okay, Kitty?” Grace had turned back into event planner extraordinaire.
“Of course, silly. I want you to meet James.”
The man stepped forward from behind a small crowd of people and both Cam and Grace froze in shock.
“It’s been a long time, Grace.”
Cam was locked there, for once in his life not knowing what to say. Grace managed to speak first.
“Jimmy?”
“What are you talking about, Grace? This is James Wells. He would never use a nickname like Jimmy. That’s so hickish,” Kitty said with a squeaky laugh.
“Darling, you don’t need to defend me. I knew Cam when I worked for his father in my youth,” he said, bending over and kissing Kitty’s cheek. “I vaguely remember Grace from that time, too.”