Page 30 of Loss and Damages
“If you mean I handled that well by not handling it, I guess I did. I’m not used to that kind of thing.”
“I bet Leo liked that about you.”
The cream and gold lobby steals my breath, and distracted by the richness of the hotel, I forget to answer him. Huge skylights let in the light from the setting sun and a fountain sits near the back flanked by huge, sweeping staircases that go only God knows where. My heels click over the marble floor, and I trip over my own feet.
“Steady,” he says, catching me before I fall flat on my face. “Haven’t you been here before?”
“I’ve never needed to.”
“I can show you around later, if you’d like.”
Looking at him out of the corners of my eyes, I try to figure out if he’s propositioning me into going upstairs to a room, but he seems sincere, offering to show me the hotel if I want to see more of it. There’s no point. “No, thank you. I doubt I’ll ever need to come back.”
“As you wish.”
Something in his tone slithers over my skin. I disappointed him. Maybe he was looking forward to spending time alone with me, but there’s no point in that, either. I promised myself I would be finished with the Milanos after tonight. I need to let what Leo and I had go, and I can only do that if I keep the Milanos in my past.
Dominic guides me through the lobby and down a wide corridor that has small groups of seating arrangements and vases upon vases of cream roses. Their sweet scent fills the air and it mingles with the woodsy, amber musk of Dominic’s cologne.
I didn’t think to wear perfume. I was so nervous about tonight I’m lucky I remembered deodorant.
With his hand to my lower back, we turn the corner and a set of doors opens into a luxurious ballroom. The space could easily seat five hundred people, and more flowers decorate the tables. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling, and an orchestra plays in one of the ballroom’s corners. Three bartenders behind a long bar are busy pouring champagne and mixing cocktails. The women are dressed similar to me, though their gowns look five times more expensive than mine. Still, I’ll pass for the few hours we’re here, and I breathe a little easier. I never cared about fitting in, but I’ve never liked standing out because of the wrong reasons.
When we step into the ballroom, a hush falls over the crowd and everyone turns to us.
I fight a blush. I won’t apologize for who I am or where I come from.
Lifting my chin, I struggle for control, until I scan the faces of the benefit’s guests who are blatantly staring and they aren’t staring at me. Their eyes are on Dominic, and his face is as hard as stone.
“What’s going on?” I ask as he grips my arm and pulls me through the crowd.
“Nothing. Let’s find my mother.”
“People glowering at you isn’t nothing.”
“They aren’t glowering.”
“They aren’t happy to see you.”
“Not many people are, Jemma.”
He steers me around a group of guests sipping champagne and laughing.
“How do you know where she is?”
“She likes music. She’ll be near the orchestra.”
“Oh.”
The orchestra’s playing a classical piece I can’t identify, but then, I’ve never been a fan of classical music, preferring to listen to the music my mom and dad did while I was growing up.
A table that seats eight, maybe ten, is positioned near the orchestra, and a woman sitting alone, her hair as black as Dominic’s, her skin a glowing olive and lips painted a deep, dark red, turns her head to look at us as we approach. Her dark eyes frost over when she sees Dominic, but her lips start to tremble when she sets her sights on me.
“That’s your mother?”
“Yes.”
“She’s gorgeous.”
