Sway (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

I had never dated a guy who was keen to meet the family until Gage. It got to the point where he was actively bugging me about it. I didn’t want to go to Malibu, and I wasn’t eager to introduce him to Beth and her gold-digging friend, Shelby Clay. But Gage didn’t have a family of his own anymore. He had no one but himself and it was selfish of me to keep him from my family just because I had mixed feelings about them.

So at last I stood in front of our beach house, clutching Gage’s hand. Memories—none of them good—threatened to wash over me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I kissed him, pressing my body against his. His arms tightened around my waist and he moaned against me. Even without the taste of chocolate, Gage’s kisses were like a melted dessert. I didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to stop tasting. Didn’t want to remember my family was waiting just inside the door.

I pulled back with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

He kissed me again, hard and sexy, and then led me to the door.

“Oh, you’re here,” Beth said when we’d gone inside. She eyed Gage standing beside me with interest. A lot of interest.

“Who are you?” she asked, somehow conveying worlds of flirt in those three words.

“Gage Johnson,” he replied. Cocking a hip, Beth looked him up and down. Gage put his arm around me. “Ava’s boyfriend.”

“That’s nice,” she said. It was obvious she didn’t mean it.

Shelby appeared in the front entrance. She took one look at Gage and almost tackled him.

“I’m Shelby,” she said, standing right in his personal space and grabbing his hand. “You look really familiar, have I met you before?”

Gage introduced himself again and told Shelby that maybe she’d seen him on TV. Once Shelby heard that, she suctioned herself to him like a vacuum cleaner.

“I bet I’ve seen you in something. I would never forget your face…” She continued to gush. I eyed the blush covering her fake-baked skin, the tight, low-cut top, the tiny shorts, the wedge heels. Her gold-digging ways were obviously not limited to my dad.

“Down, Shelby!” Beth snapped. Shelby turned beet red and retreated. Beth turned back to Gage and gave him her most seductive smile.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

“He’s in the living room,” Beth answered, her eyes never leaving my boyfriend’s face.

I pulled Gage out from under my sister’s covetous stare and into the living room. Our Malibu beach house was light, airy and beautiful. The floors were a glossy maple, the walls creamy, the furniture all shades of white and pale blue. Most of the windows looked out over the beach and ocean.

“Hi, Sweet Pea,” Dad said. With his legs resting on the ottoman, his jeans cuffed above his ankles, and his crisp striped polo shirt, my dad could easily have passed for forty. I didn’t know how he did it. Aside from Botox. And expensive face creams. A deal with the devil seemed likely.

“Hi, Dad.” I kissed him on the cheek. “How’ve you been?”

Dad folded his newspaper and set it on the coffee table. He sighed loudly. “It’s exhausting not having servants.” He pulled a baby wipe from his man-bag to scrub away any germs.

I copied his sigh, but for a different reason. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Gage Johnson.” Gage stepped forward, extending his hand. “Gage, this is my dad, Walter Elliot.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Walter,” Gage said.

Dad stood and clasped Gage’s hand in a manly shake. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve been waiting for Ava to bring you over, ever since your call.”

I turned to Gage in surprise. “You called him?”

Gage cleared his throat. “I was…anxious to talk to him.”

I stared at him. Was that weird, or was it just me?

“I’m happy you did,” Dad said. “George and I were the best of friends. We starred on
The Time of Our Life
together. Then there was that unfortunate business and everything changed. I’m afraid I couldn’t quite forgive him.”

I frowned. It was unlike Dad to have very strong feelings about someone unless they had a crooked nose or a lot of acne.

“I was so sorry to hear of his passing,” Dad continued, resuming his seat on the couch. “Especially when things were left so rotten between us.”

“My father wanted to make amends,” Gage said, sitting next to Dad. His tanned legs looked extra brown against the white couch. I took a seat across from them. “When he couldn’t, he made me promise that I would.”

“I appreciate that. And I appreciate you going to the trouble of reaching out. Your father would be proud.” Dad and Gage smiled at each other in a heart-warming father-son Hallmark moment. It was weird.

“I had an audition today,” Gage said, settling into the couch.

Dad smiled in genuine interest. They were speaking the same language. “What for?”

I looked between the two of them, already so at ease with each other. Their phone call must have been more than just making amends for past misunderstandings. Dad obviously knew a lot about Gage. It was like they were continuing a previous conversation while I’d gone invisible.

“That new HBO drama,
City Secrets
,” Gage replied.

Dad nodded. “I know the producer, Thea Hart. Excellent woman. Not a wrinkle and almost fifty.” A look of admiration crossed his face. “How did the audition go?”

Gage’s sigh blew through the room like a gust of wind. “You know how it is. A few dozen hopefuls all vying for the same role. I don’t know if I did enough to stand out.”

“It’s a tough business to crack,” Dad agreed. “But you’re a good-looking boy. I’m sure you’ll get the part.”

Gage’s mouth tightened. “I don’t know. I wish I knew how the audition went. Where I stand, if I even have a chance? Or what I could do to improve for next time, you know?”

“I’ll talk to Thea for you. Put in a good word.”

I tried to contain my surprise. Dad had never been supportive like this with Eric.

Gage protested. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” Dad said. “Everyone needs a leg up in this business. Your father would have done it. Since he’s not around, I’m glad to step in.”

Gage smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

* * * * *

I cooked dinner that night for my family, steamed organic vegetables and grilled chicken breasts. Gage helped me, taking over the barbecue and kissing me when he wasn’t brushing the meat with marinade.

Aunt Rose arrived, anxious to meet my new boyfriend. I hadn’t seen her in weeks but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. At the dinner table, she watched Gage and me, a smile on her lips.

“How did you two meet?” she asked.

Gage seemed eager to tell the story. “Nothing that romantic, unfortunately,” he said. “We met at a dance club downtown. Ava dropped her bottle of water and I picked it up. It was fate.”

He grinned at me. “When we danced, I knew that couldn’t be the end of it,” Gage continued. “I had to see her again. It wasn’t hard to find her, although it was a bit harder to convince her to go out with me.” He winked.

“How long have you been dating?” Shelby asked.

“Not long,” I said. “We’ve gone on a few dates.”

Shelby looked hopeful at that. Or maybe my dislike of her was clouding my judgment.

“The best dates I’ve ever had,” Gage gushed.

I stabbed my chicken with my fork. His over-the-top enthusiasm was starting to get on my nerves. Maybe I should’ve felt grateful that he wasn’t hiding his feelings for me in front of my family. That he wasn’t giving Shelby or Beth the time of day. But for some reason I felt breathless and suffocated by it.

“It’s about time Ava found someone like you,” Dad said.

My whole body tensed, my back rigid against the wood chair.

“First what’s-his-name,” Dad went on. I cringed, knowing full well who he meant. “And then some obscure tuba-player you brought around for Mari’s wedding.”

“Cellist,” I interrupted. “Kaz played the cello.”

Dad waved his hand dismissively and leaned toward me. “You hold on to this one,” he said, pointing at Gage. It sounded like a warning.

“Believe me, sir,” Gage said, “I have no intention of letting her go.”

Beth gagged into her vegetables. Despite being the oldest, maturity had never been her strong suit.

“Anyway,” I interjected, “how was your day, Aunt Rose?”

As Aunt Rose proceeded to tell me about how busy she’d been at work and her latest shopping spree at Chanel, I picked at my food, fuming inside. All it took was one afternoon and Dad and Aunt Rose were already crazy about Gage. I wasn’t sure why they liked him so much after such a short time. Why did that bother me?

After dinner, while Dad and Aunt Rose continued their bonding time with Gage, I went in search of Beth. I cornered her in her bedroom.

“I need to talk to my sister alone for a second,” I said to Shelby, who was reapplying her makeup at Beth’s vanity. She pouted but left the room. I turned to Beth.

“You need to be careful of Shelby,” I said. Beth put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You know what she’s after.”

“What? Are you worried she’ll steal your boyfriend?”

I leaned against the doorframe. “It’s not Gage she wants.”

For a brief moment, Beth looked thoughtful. Then her face turned snotty. “Whatever. You’re just jealous.”

“Are you serious?” It was like talking to one of Aunt Rose’s Chanel handbags.

“Shelby’s my friend. She’s more fun to hang out with than you.” She moved to my spot in the doorway and put her face close to mine. “Maybe it’s not her you should be worried about.”

She stalked from the room before I could ask her what she meant.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Every year, Los Angeles held The Heavenly Hearts Ball to raise money for some charity or other. Basically it was an excuse to let the Hollywood types and rich entrepreneurs feel like they were doing something worthwhile with their millions while having a fancy party at the same time. Or, as I always put it, anything for a red carpet.

Dad went out on a limb this year and weaseled some tickets. Weaseled because he wasn’t exactly big in Hollywood anymore. Still, he had a few favors left to get himself in, plus Gage and me and Beth and Shelby.

I paced the kitchen, waiting for Gage to arrive, sipping ice water to help calm my nerves.

Note to self: ice water isn’t calming.

Beth swept into the kitchen, her feathered Gucci gown trailing behind her.

“Wow, Beth, you look great,” I said.

“Duh.” Her dark hair was pulled into a high topknot highlighting her magnificent cheekbones. She poured herself a glass of wine. I raised my eyebrows but she ignored it.

She looked at me slyly. “Worried that Gage isn’t going to show?”

I rounded the island, my heels clacking on the hardwood floor. “No.” Gage would definitely show—there were too many people to schmooze with, including Thea Hart, the producer of the show he was trying to land.

“Then what’s with the pacing?”

I shrugged but continued circling the kitchen table. When I came back around, Beth’s eyes were following me.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said lightly. I didn’t buy it.

I tugged at my dress. Dad walked into the kitchen with Shelby on his arm. I widened my eyes at Beth and motioned my head to her friend who clearly wanted a piece of our father. Beth stared at me blankly. Was she blind?

“Wow! Look at my girls!” Dad extracted himself from Shelby and went to Beth, kissing her on both cheeks like a Parisian. “You are stunning.” Beth’s face flushed prettily—a softer look than she usually wore.

Dad came to me next. He cupped my face with his hand, smiling at me like a fond father. “Simply beautiful.”

I couldn’t remember the last time Dad had smiled at me like that or told me I was beautiful. Usually there was room for improvement, typically in the form of a cream or lotion or a brand new life. “Thanks, Dad.”

The doorbell rang and I pressed a hand to my stomach, hoping to suppress my nerves. I kept asking myself why I was nervous but clearly, my self couldn’t come up with any possible answers.

We streamed out of the kitchen to the front entrance. Shelby hurried back upstairs muttering something about checking her makeup while Beth adjusted the neckline of her dress. I opened the door to Gage, who looked especially handsome in his tux. Like a tanned James Bond.

He stared at me, my expertly tousled side bun, and down my navy Grecian-style Marchesa gown. They lingered on the slit over one leg, then slowly rose. It felt as if his hand was gently gliding across my skin, rather than his eyes. My whole body tingled.

“Wow.” Gage stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him. “I have never seen anyone so beautiful.”

Between Gage’s words, his eyes and my Dad and Beth standing right there, I blushed like crazy. You’d think I would have stopped blushing about such things years ago.

“Hello, sir.” Gage reached around me to shake Dad’s free hand. “Thank you for the tickets. It’s such an important cause and I’m grateful to help out.”

I wanted to point out the fact that my Dad paid for the tickets; therefore, he was the one helping out the cause. With hot cheeks and my heart pounding double-time, I couldn’t get out the words.

When Shelby reappeared, with even more makeup on than she had before, we all headed out. I stumbled over the doorstep and Gage grabbed my hand.

“Don’t worry,” Gage said, leading me to his car. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

I raised an eyebrow and he laughed.

* * * * *

The Heavenly Hearts Ball was, in a word: heavenly. It was held in an old embassy building in downtown LA. The large ballroom was all marble floors and pillars; white marble with a dreamy swirling blue throughout that gave the feel of walking among the clouds. Combine that with thousands of candles and a string orchestra playing Strauss and I had to check my pulse to make sure I hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

Gage had calmed my nerves during our drive with his caresses and compliments. Dad, Beth and Shelby followed behind in Dad’s convertible. When we walked into the ballroom, my palms moistened, even though I had no clue what I was so worried about. As if he could sense it, Gage smiled at me, gently wrapping his arm around my waist. I smiled back, tension slipping down my body and seeping out my toes.

We feasted on the food, enjoyed the company, delighted in the music. Even Beth was pleasant for once, but that was probably due to all the rich men lavishing her with attention. Gage was attentive, never leaving my side for long, but never stifling like he had been at the family dinner.

We giggled in the corner over the outrageous dresses and faces frozen by botox. We stared at the lovely painted ceiling—a replica of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. And we danced—our bodies close together as we waltzed around the room. It was a perfect night. The only thing that put a damper on it was Shelby, pressing herself against my father on the dance floor and flirting outrageously with my boyfriend.

“Hey,” Gage said when we were taking a breather, “isn’t that Jonah Miller?” He leaned forward in his chair, peering across the room.

My eyes followed his to a small man filling a plate with more food than his teeny body could probably handle.

“I think so,” Dad said, squinting in that direction. “You should introduce yourself. He’s a great director. He’d be a good man to know.”

Gage watched the little man walk the length of the table, heaping more and more food onto his plate. “I’m pretty sure it’s him.” He turned to me. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not. I think I’ll take a trip to the ladies room anyway.”

Dad rose from his chair. “Want me to introduce you? We worked on a movie together back in the nineties.”

Gage nodded at Dad then flashed his shiny whites at me. “I’ll find you.” He planted a warm kiss on my cheek and then backed away, doing a silly dance.

I laughed at his shooting gun fingers and swaying hips. He raised his eyebrows up and down a few times before turning away.

I absently chewed on a thumbnail as I watched Gage leave. The feel of his lips still lingered on my cheek.

Shelby sighed. “You’re so lucky.”

I stood up. “Yes, I am.” And then because I thought that was a little rude, I added, “Thank you.”

I navigated the crowds in search of a bathroom, observing the people around me on the way, the beautiful ballroom, the couples on the dance floor. My eyes roamed over the musicians playing their instruments, caught up in the music and oblivious to everything else. A feeling I knew all too well.

When I reentered the ballroom, the orchestra was just beginning another piece. I recognized it at once even without the usual tenor singing the lyrics. The song was “The Way You Look Tonight”, and in my memory, it was Eric singing the words.

* * * * *

It had been a random day, a random moment. I couldn’t remember what happened before or after. I couldn’t even remember when. But I could see Eric as clear as day, lying on his stomach across my bed, his feet dangling off the end. He was working on his laptop while absently singing “The Way You Look Tonight.”

“You know, I’ve always hated that song,” I said.

He turned his head from the computer in exaggerated slow-motion and looked at me in disbelief.

I tucked my legs beneath me on my favorite plushy chair. “What?”

“Don’t you dare knock Jerome Kern.”

“Who’s Jerome Kern? The writer or something?”

He sat up, indignation splashed all over his face. “Yes, the writer! Geez, Ava.”

“Did he write the music or the lyrics?”

Eric opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brow furrowed.

“Ha! You don’t even know.” I got up from my chair and sat by Eric on the bed as he turned back to the computer, no doubt to look it up. “It’s not the music I have issues with, it’s the lyrics.”

He looked at me. “What’s wrong with the lyrics?”

“I dunno. The song just bugs me. Like the guy wants the girl to look the same forever. He doesn’t want her to change. It’s like he won’t love her when she looks different, which,
duh
, she’s going to eventually. It’s called ageing.”

“That’s not what the song’s about,” Eric protested. “It’s about a man wanting to remember one night, one perfect moment with his love, forever. He wants to capture it for later, when he’s depressed or having a hard time or something.”

“Yeah, but if they’re still together, what does he need that for? He’s got
her.
She can still cheer him up, even if she doesn’t look as young and beautiful as she used to.”

Eric looked into my eyes. “But what if he doesn’t have her anymore? Doesn’t he deserve that one beautiful memory?”

* * * * *

At the time, we were just having one of our usual disagreements over a song. Neither of us knew what would soon happen. Listening to the violins slide the tune from their strings in a ballroom that looked like heaven, I wanted to laugh at the memory. Or cry. I wasn’t the same now. So different he never would have known me. But I had that one perfect moment with him locked away.

I think that made me hate the song even more.

Maybe Eric carried a memory like that of me as well, of the way I looked one night a long time ago. It was all I could really ask for now.

A hand slid into mine. I turned my head. Dark brown eyes stared back at me. I felt a pang of disappointment that they weren’t Eric’s deep blue. And then I told myself to get it together.

“Dance with me,” Gage said. His lips moved in a way that was more inviting than the request.

I let him lead me onto the dance floor. He swept me into his arms, one hand sure on my back. We circled the floor and his eyes locked on mine, unwilling to let go. I searched his face, but I couldn’t shake the memory of Eric.

Gage seemed to sense my absence. He pressed his cheek on my head and started to hum. “Nice song. What is it?”

“‘The Way You Look Tonight.’” I closed my eyes. “By Jerome Kern.”

He let out a small snort of surprise. “A favorite?”

“I hate it, actually.” I looked up at Gage to see his eyes widen. “It’s a long story.”

“Ah. An ex.” His face softened. “Bad memories.”

“No. I’ve never liked the song, that’s all.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

I pressed my lips together. There was no point arguing.

“Let me help you forget.” Gage pressed his body into mine. My heart quickened, beating past the tempo of the song and our movements. The memory of that conversation with Eric began to slip away. For a second I considered grabbing it, clutching it to myself. Instead, I let it go and it wavered away. In front of me was only Gage.

“I want you for myself, Ava,” he said. “Now and always.”

My lips parted. Gage took the opportunity and filled the space, his lips blending with mine—a perfect kiss in a perfect ballroom against the backdrop of a song I despised.

In that moment, I couldn’t remember why I despised it.