Page 11 of Dream Girl Drama

“Good evening, you must be Mr. Gauthier. Please come in. Everyone is in the parlor waiting for dinner to be served.”

“Great. Thanks.”

He stepped into the foyer, which was more like a ballroom with its domed glass ceiling and sweeping staircase in the center of the room. Following in the maid’s footsteps, he walked by a table boasting a giant vase, bursting with white flowers. Pedestals lined the room holding various sculptures, each tastefully lit from above by frosted globes. On the far end of the room, the entire wall was made of glass, the view something out of a movie. Jagged rocks forming the coastline, wind-whipped grass, the body of water beyond, gently illuminated by a lighthouse.

Inadequacy prodded at him, more insistently than he’d felt it in a while. Even if the Bearcats renewed his contract for ten times the amount of his current salary, he’d never be able to afford ahouse like this. This was generational wealth. Money he couldn’t comprehend.

You don’t need it.

There was a sound coming from somewhere in the house and it stopped Sig in his tracks. Music. Gentle music. It wasn’t an overly familiar sound or instrument, but something about it made his stomach clench, though he wasn’t sure the curious shift in his ribs came from enjoyment—because damn, the music was the most beautiful he’d ever heard—or something else. And he didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, because before he could reach the parlor, his father and a woman in her fifties stepped out of the room to greet him.

Harvey had changed since the last time Sig saw him, a lot more silver in the temples of his jet-black hair, his gaze sharper than the lapels of his suit jacket. The blond woman he escorted fit into her surroundings in a cream-colored dress that wrapped and folded in places that made no sense to Sig, sapphires winking at him from her earlobes.

“Son,” Harvey said warmly, coming forward to wrap him in an embrace.

A little embarrassed by the hope that rippled inside him, his instinctive search for that elusive bond, Sig returned the hug briefly and clapped the older man on the back. “Harvey. Good to see you. Sorry I’m late. Had some car trouble.”

“Oh dear,” the woman said, holding a glass tumbler with both hands. “Is everything okay now?”

“Yeah, fine. I called AAA and got the old girl up and running again. Thanks.”

Based on the wrinkle of her brow, car trouble and AAA were foreign concepts to this woman.

“Well, we’re all here now. Isn’t that nice?” Harvey stepped back and gestured proudly. “Son, please allow me to introduce you to Sofia, the goddess of my heart.”

Sig gave his father a dry look. “Very nice to meet you, Sofia.”

“Likewise. I’ve heard such incredible things about Harvey’s son, the professional hockey player. Let’s get you a drink, so you can tell useverythingthere is to know.” There was something familiar about Sofia’s graceful mannerisms as she swept aside and gestured for Sig to precede them into the parlor, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what. Or maybe he didn’t want to put the clues together yet. Ignoring the bolt tightening in his gut, he followed Sofia’s wordless directive, entering another expensively decorated room, that light and sort of ethereal music growing louder. Louder. “We thought it would be nice if Chloe played for us while we waited for dinner to start.”

Sig’s throat burned like he’d swallowed acid, the world moving in muddled motion, as if he’d jumped out of the window and into the freezing cold Sound, his body encapsulated in pressure from all sides. His hands were notorious for being steady, but they shook now. Shook so noticeably that he shoved them into his pockets to hide them instinctively.

That was his first and most regrettable mistake.

He’d play it over and over again in the months to come.

Hiding.

He never should have hidden a damn thing.

Especially when Chloe’s fingers froze on the strings of her harp and he caught the horrified shock in her gaze as she saw his reflection approach in the picture window. In that moment, he should have announced to the room that he’d met Chloe earlier that evening and there was something happening between them. Something real. But he let the seconds tick by. Tick, tick, tick, while Chloe waited for him to react. Out loud.

He couldn’t find his voice, though.

Couldn’t wrap his head around their bad fortune quickly enough.

Their parents were dating. His father. Her mother.

Chloe turned slowly in her stool, blinking at him. Opening her mouth, closing it.

God, she was spectacular. She’d showered, twisted her blond hair up into some kind of style at the back of her head, little pearls peeking out everywhere. She had on a short, cream-colored silk dress and no shoes. And on top of every amazing thing about her—her wit, her warmth, her beauty—she had the ability to produce that music?

Our parents are dating.

“Honey, I can’t wait another second. Let’s make this a celebration dinner, shall we?” Harvey crowed behind him, his father coming up beside Sig to press a crystal rocks glass halfway filled with golden liquid into his hand. Then Harvey wrapped an arm around Sofia’s waist, both of them smiling from ear to ear. “Chloe. Sig. We brought you both here tonight to announce that we’re getting married.” He laughed tearfully while looking into Sofia’s face. “By the spring, we’ll be husband and wife.”

Sofia raised her glass in a salute. “And you’ll each gain a sibling!”

The resulting roar in Sig’s head rivaled the crashing waves below.

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