Page 67 of Ripple Effect
Walking into the first ballroom at Akin Hill, two weeks later, I’m astounded as I have been the last two years I’ve attended the charity event to raise money for the Lowcountry Food Bank. Dahlia and Bernard Akin started the tradition over forty years ago when they realized that despite their healthy wages, much of the monies of their employees were going to help their loved ones be fed over the holiday season.
Not for the first time do I wish I’d had the chance to meet Libby and Sam’s grandmother. The woman was an indomitable force; she might have given Admiral Yarborough a run for his money, I think ruefully as I scan the room for my wife, who I’ve missed desperately.
I wonder if Iris told her the big news before we were sent off to gather intel on a potential resurgence of the Basque Separatists in Spain. It turns out it was a concrete threat which we passed off to our friends at the agency, who will do what they need to in order to squash it. But we had some downtime in Spain while we waited to see if we were going to be spun up again. Since Iris didn’t indulge in the Coke and red wine with the rest of us, she gave up her news.
The entire Alliance team is elated to have a “…future team member to train. Do they make earwigs in baby size?” Pete, our site logistics specialist, teased Iris.
She punched him in the arm before Sam wrapped his arms around her and said, “You have to knock that shit off, babe. Someone’s going to hit back, and then I’m going to have to ask someone to kill them.”
“Just think,” I mused, as I lifted the glass I just toasted her with to my lips. “We have a designated driver for the next however many months.”
We all lost it laughing. I even join in, as Iris used both fingers to flip me the bird.
Picking up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I salute Marcus and Natalie, who appear to be surprised to see me. Mentally shrugging, I assume Libby didn’t get my updated itinerary from Rebecca. I left a message for my assistant to tell my wife I’d meet her here at the party.
Wandering from the first ballroom into the second, the vibe changes from genteel mingling to an almost electronic symphonic beat. Couples are paired off performing the tango with an avid crowd cheering them on. If I could find my wife, we could show them a thing or two. I frown, scanning the fringes of the crowd for the dress I remember Libby had originally planned on wearing tonight: a fitted white lace dress that would look fabulous against her lightly tanned skin.
I almost choke on my drink when I catch sight of her on the dance floor with a man I’ve never seen before.
Libby’s dark hair is pulled away from her face in long glorious curls. In an emerald-green halter-style gown with delicate pleating that crisscrosses low over her breasts, her body is fluid and her movements are electrifying. The tailored bodice flows into panels revealing a hidden slit. Each time she lifts her leg, it rises to her thigh, flashing glimpses of her slender leg as her partner twists and twirls her so fast.
And there’s a rapturous smile on her face.
Knowing how to blend into a crowd so I’m not seen, I continue to watch the captivating couple as they make their way forward and back, always in motion, not staying in one place for more than a heartbeat. They’re two bodies moving as one, in tune in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I quickly take a gulp of the champagne that burns in my stomach like battery acid.
Who is he? Did Libby bring a date to this party since she thought I would be out of town? I’m choking on rage.
When the song ends, Libby is draped down his side like a glorious bolt of satin down his muscular arm. I’m just about to shove past the applauding crowd until my wife is pulled straight up and she gives her partner a high five. Another man steps into the circle to join them. He lays his lips on the forehead of the first and holds out an arm to escort my wife off the dance floor.
It jerks me out of my delusion.
What was I thinking?I berate myself silently. Libby loves me. She’d no more cheat on me than I would on her. But for a moment, I questioned her.
Why?
Making my way around the circle of dancers to where the trio is standing, chatting lively, the only conclusion I come to is because I’ve missed her desperately. I’ve been gone too much lately. Maybe now that Iris has declared she’s going to be slowing down, I’ll talk to Libby about what Yarborough wanted me to almost a year ago, potentially buying into Alliance. Maybe that will give me the opportunity to be in town doing the behind-the-scenes operations the Admiral partakes in. It’s not that I want to be on the go all the time; I just want to feel like I’m using my skills. On the other hand, pulling back means I can spend more time with my wife. Even as the options fly through my head, I pause just behind Libby, absorbing her presence. One of the two men drawls, “Elizabeth, it appears you have an admirer.”
“It’s a good thing I’m married, then, Chase.”
Yes, it really is. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I feel her body lock before I whisper in her ear, “Surprise, baby. I made it home.”
Maybe it’s my imagination, but her body seems to tense a little bit more. But there’s nothing but pleasure on her face when she turns slightly to press a kiss to my cheek. “Welcome home, Cal.”
Not exactly the effusive greeting I was expecting. Then again, it’s the Akin ball; Libby’s likely to be more restrained in front of other people. I’ll save the greeting I normally receive for later when we’re alone.
“That was one hell of a show,” I tell her. Libby blushes to the roots of her hair. I grin before holding out my hand to her dance partner. “Cal Sullivan, Libby’s husband.”
“Chase Corbett. A pleasure to meet the man who captured Elizabeth’s heart. My partner, Bryce.” He tips his head with a loving smile to the man who danced so beautifully with Libby.
Keeping my arm around her waist, I shake both men’s hands while explaining how Libby snared my interest. “It was more the other way around—almost from the moment I saw her.”
Libby rolls her eyes. “Oh, please,” her honeyed voice teases. “I’m at best a close second to your work, Cal. But that’s okay. I knew the man I was marrying.”
My mind recoils in shock. How can she not understand her importance in my life’s priorities? That my heart doesn’t exist without her?Or maybe, a little voice taunts me,it’s because there’s a part of her that’s right? That Libby will always come in second to your work?Disabusing that notion and stifling the concern, I shake my head. “That’s just not true.”
Libby pats my chest a bit condescendingly, in my opinion, and she turns back to the other men and continues chatting. In the course of their conversation, I learn they’re a client of my wife’s as well as Akin Timbers as they own several exclusive mountain retreats in the Biltmore area.
When did my wife expand her business into North Carolina? I’m disturbed I didn’t know but keep quiet as the conversation flows around me.
