Page 33 of Must Have Been Love

I look around, my throat tight, because I’d lay down my life for each and every person here. There’s Autumn and Parker, of course. But Autumn is too busy adjusting Ayda’s braid to drink her champagne. Ayda is dressed as Elsa from Frozen – though a brunette version, because she tried the wig on and hated it.

“You look like you could do with a whole magnum of champagne to cheer you up,” West murmurs. He’s flown in from LA to be here. Which is a minor miracle because he’s the only man I know who has more meetings than I do.

“Just trying to get in the party mood,” I mutter, taking a big mouthful of my champagne.

“Don’t worry, I brought someone to cheer you up. Her name is Sylvie. I think you’ll like her.” West gives me a grin.

“You brought a date for me to my kid’s party?” I frown, not liking that one bit.

“She’s here as my plus one. But don’t worry, she’s very sweet. She loves kids. She’s from a good family. Just your type.” He winks. “And it’s time, my friend.”

I never should have told him how long it has been since I’ve touched a woman. I open my mouth to tell him I can manage my own love life, thank you very much, when I see my brother, Asher, staring at something to my right with such an intense look on his face it makes me jump.

All of us are dressed up to one extent or another. Autumn and her best friend, Francie – who also arrived from the mainland for the party – are in full Disney princess regalia, and West had gone full Prince Charming because the man can pull anything off.

Parker, who I know has been fighting with Autumn as much as I have, finally conceded to wearing a pair of blue dress pants and a brocade jacket, so he looks a little like Prince Charming to Autumn’s Cinderella.

Asher and I, on the other hand, have had the same idea. We’re both wearing suits – because we decided to come as Prince William and Prince Harry.

Basically, we look normal. Or we did until Autumn, who can read us like a book, gave us crowns to go with our designer suits.

Asher’s is in his hand at the moment, because he hates the damn thing as much as I do. He’s still staring past me with that dark gaze though. And when I see what he’s staring at, I frown. Because it’s not what, it’s who. Francine Salinger. My sister’s best friend.

She’s part of our extended family, the same way West and Parker are. But I have no idea what she’s done to make Asher look like he wants to kill her.

“Okay, people are starting to arrive,” Autumn says, patting Ayda’s face. Her eyes are shining with excitement. I hate to admit it, but Autumn was right, this party is exactly what my daughter needs.

I have a natural inclination to keep her safe from harm, but I know that can lead to isolation.

Autumn puts her hand to her ear and nods, and that’s when I realize she’s got an earpiece in. Like some kind of damn Secret Service agent, she murmurs back and stands up.

“Hudson, you need to get to reception to welcome your guests,” Autumn tells me. “Ayda, you can come with me, we’ll go meet the Disney Princesses,” she says to my daughter, because I’ve paid only god knows what to bring a whole hoard of them over from the mainland to mingle with the kids. “Parker, Asher, West, can you make sure the guests are given drinks as they come in?”

All three of them grin. Being next to the drink servers isn’t exactly a hardship. “Sure,” West says, winking at me. “Let’s go, fellas.”

I take a deep breath, walking out of the office to the reception area, where I’m shocked by the number of people who are already milling inside. Luckily, we have enough staff to point them to the ballroom and the double doors beyond which lead to the gardens, where the carousel is running, the bouncy castles are inflated, and a band is playing Disney music from the stage set up next to the dance floor.

For the next half hour I’m greeting locals with their kids, and friends and business acquaintances from all over, who gush about how beautiful the island is, how lucky I am to own this place, and how they’d love to come back to visit when things are quieter.

A blonde wearing a short black dress with a heart neckline, a thick choker on her neck, and sheer tights walks in. Her hair is brushed back from her face, and her heels are like daggers.

“Hi,” she says, walking straight up to me. “You’re Hudson, right?”

“Right,” I murmur.

“I’m your mother,” she says. I frown and she giggles.

“Okay, I’m Princess Diana. In her revenge outfit. The one she wore after Charles admitted he was unfaithful.” She shifts uncomfortably. “West said you were dressed as William. Her son.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Sylvie Armstrong.”

Oh fuck. The woman West talked about. And yeah, he’s right, she’s just my fucking type. A cool blonde, obviously well brought up. And with a killer body.

And I feel absolutely no attraction toward her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I tell her.

“And you. Is your daughter here?” She looks around.

“She’s with my sister in the gardens.” I look at her lips, waiting to feel a reaction. Or at least a stirring. There’s nothing.

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