Chapter 10

Shortly before eleven o’clock I was perched on my bed with my hair done and makeup on, counting the seconds until I’d see Holden. The dress code for the orchestra party ranged from fashionable to festive. Most women wore dresses, and suits were mandatory for men. I had decided on a knee-length dark-blue chiffon dress. I paired it with beige pumps and a Prada clutch of the same color that I borrowed from Grace—I couldn’t afford anything like that. I had pinned my hair into a side knot.

Grace knocked.

“Come in.”

She burst in and struck a pose in her red dress. “Well, how do I look?” She pursed her lips and swung her hips. Obviously, she was quite satisfied with her look.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I answered drily.

She waved her hand diva-like, then cast a critical eye on me. “Are those pantyhose?” She pointed at my legs, almost in disgust.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Do you need to have everything explained.” Grace shook her head, falling into that grade-school teacher tone I couldn’t stand.

“What do you think will happen when Holden puts his head under your skirt and finds pantyhose there?”

“Surely that was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?” I teased her.

“Don’t be silly. Get those damn killjoys off!” She approached and tried to reach under my skirt.

“Not a chance,” I protested, pulling my legs away. “It’s too cold to go without.”

She looked at me with raised eyebrows, left the room, and returned moments later with a bunch of nylon in her hand.

“Here.” She tossed the bundle at me. “Put those on!”

I sighed. There was no point in getting into an argument over this. She was not about to change her mind. Plus, Holden was due any minute, and Grace wouldn’t hesitate to embarrass me about it in front of him. So, I stripped off my pantyhose and put on the thigh-high stockings.

“Satisfied?”

She shut her eyes. “What kind of panties are you wearing?”

I gave her a warning look. “That’s enough, Grace.” If she was going to continue like that, she’d be on her own at the party.

“OK, OK, we’ll leave it at that,” she gave in. “You look fabulous.”

When the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat. I jumped up from the bed. “Holden’s here,” I added unnecessarily, catching an astonished look from Grace as a result.

“What’s with you?” I heard her ask as I ran to the door. I flew down the stairs in record time, almost tripping over my high heels, and tore open the door.

“Hi.” I beamed at him. Good thing I greeted him right away without looking closely at him because seeing him left me speechless. Holden wore a suit that fit so well it looked like it had been made for him. It was a perfect mixture of Just give me something in my size, I don’t feel like trying it on and I’d like this tie just a shade darker, so that it matches my eyes better. I was still admiring him when he slipped his hand around my waist.

“Are you trying to kill me or something?” he said, approached, then ran his fingers up my leg until he’d reached the upper edge of the thigh-high stocking.

His knees went wobbly. “Oh God.” He moaned. “You are trying to kill me.”

Thank you, Grace. I owe you.

Holden put his cheek against mine, breathed right into my ear while his fingers moved up, then pulled my panties aside. At that very moment, I heard Grace behind me.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve got your purse.”

“Oh. Thanks.” My voice was trembling a little.

Holden detached himself from me. “Hi, Grace,” he greeted her as if nothing had happened. Then he caught my eye and—licked his finger. Licked!

My cheeks burned. I closed my eyes, sincerely hoping Grace had seen nothing. But the look she gave me when she walked by me said something entirely else.

Oh yeah—she’d seen.

Holden drove a dark-green Grand Cherokee well past its prime. Still, a jeep suited him. There was something bold about it. I rested my hand over his on the stick shift. I’d seen other couples do this. It was the first time for me. I was never much for holding hands because I often thought it seemed affected. As if one wouldn’t be able to last without physical contact for a simple drive. Only now I understood why they did. It was a tender gesture, and it expressed my desire for closeness.

Grace sat quietly in the back seat. Maybe she was miffed Holden hadn’t said anything about her outfit. But maybe she was upset because she had to share me with him tonight. Maybe I was just imagining things.

When we arrived at the party, it was packed with musicians, some of whom were just Grace’s type of nerd. Grace put on her most seductive expression and stepped out of the jeep as elegantly as an Oscar-nominated actress would from her limousine. She wasn’t that far off. Grace was well-known at Harvard and, no doubt, many of orchestra guys had already heard about her. Apart from being a stunningly beautiful man-eater, she was also at the top of her class. That combination didn’t come frequently at Harvard.

Holden parked, and we walked hand in hand to the entrance. It didn’t take long for Grace to size the room up, then she eased herself into the mayhem and finally wound up on the dance floor.

“Watch her,” I said to Holden with a grin. “It’s like watching a lioness in the wild. Once she’s chosen her victim, she strikes like lightning. There’s no escape for the poor guy,” I announced in the dramatic tone of a National Geographic wildlife documentary.

Holden laughed. “That almost sounds as if I should feel sorry for him.”

“Well. If he’s just out for a bit of fun, he’s hit the jackpot. He can tell his roommates that he slept with the legendary Grace Halloway. But if he falls in love with her,” I said in a pitying tone, “she’ll break his heart.”

He looked at me skeptically. “So, she’s never been in love?”

“Grace doesn’t believe in relationships,” I answered simply. “Friendship, on the other hand, means everything to her.”

Holden slowly nodded. “I get it.”

And already the first guy maneuvered himself toward Grace.

“Watch. It’s starting.”

 “Him?” Holden asked as she started to dance with her first suitor.

I shook my head. “No. Too early and his hair is too shaggy. He’s only a warm-up.” As I expected, she was looking around while still dancing with the first hopeful.

“Him?” Holden asked as she turned to the next one.

“Hmm. No, I don’t think it’s gonna be him either.” And with that she turned to Candidate Number Three.

“Him,” I said decisively.

Holden frowned. “What makes you so sure?”

“Wait for it.” My grin broadened “In a moment, she’ll . . . yes, done! Did you see?”

“What?” he asked excitedly. He obviously enjoyed our little game.

“The irresistible pulling of her lower lip between her teeth. There! Did you see? She did it again. Yup. No doubt about it, we have a winner.” I rolled my eyes. “It might be better if we went to your place later. Trust me. She always works orchestra guys really hard.”

Holden laughed out loud, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. “Where were you all my life.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sometimes here, sometimes there . . .”

He laughed again, but suddenly his look changed. “Do you think she needs us to stay?”

I looked at Grace to weigh the situation. She’d definitely transitioned to Phase Two. Wild making out.

“I think our work here is done.”

Holden gently bit my earlobe. “Well, then let’s vanish.”

Before we drove to his place, we briefly stopped at mine to pick up my toothbrush and a few clothes—I couldn’t warm up to the idea of sneaking out of his place in my dress tomorrow morning. I also texted Grace to let her know I was spending the night at Holden’s, so she wouldn’t worry. It wasn’t long before we literally fell through the door into his apartment. In the heat of the moment, Holden shoved it open with so much energy it came off its hinges. But he had it hooked in again in no time, and we tumbled into his bedroom, kissing.

I sat on his bed while Holden kneeled with an impish smile before me on the floor.

“May I finally have a look at what’s under that skirt?”

Before I could even answer, he inched the dress up toward my hips. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in my legs.

Why are men crazy for thigh-high stockings?

Then he bent forward, pushed my pants aside and let his face sink into me.

“Good morning.”

“Oh. Good morning. You, um, must be Kyle.” I’d almost run into him coming out of the bedroom. I extended my hand. “Hi, I’m Annie.”

He took it with a grin. “I know. Holden already told me you’d be around.”

I must admit I was surprised. After Holden’s description, I’d somehow imagined Kyle would look like a deadbeat. But he looked like a typical college student. Medium-long hair with a side part, polo shirt, toothpaste commercial smile. It didn’t take much to recognize he’d grown up in an affluent home. He radiated the self-assurance of someone who knew—no matter what he tried and how often he failed—his parents would be there to prop him up. He’d never had to earn his own keep and banked on being able to ask his father for money anytime.

In this regard, Grace was different. Her father, who was divorced from Grace’s mother and now married to a New Jersey real-estate agent sixteen years his junior, was more than wealthy. He’d made a fortune on the New York Stock Exchange, so Grace had plenty of financial backing but didn’t rely on it. Her father gladly paid for tuition, rent, books, and whatever else she needed to study, but that was an investment of sorts. Unlike Kyle, Grace saw her studies through—and then some. She had clear goals.

Back then I was sure she’d have a stellar career and nothing in the world would distract her from it. However life doesn’t always take the course one expects . . . but I digress. Back to Kyle and me outside the bathroom door. We had just introduced ourselves when Holden emerged from the bedroom.

“You’re already up?” he asked sleepily, pushed past Kyle with a greeting nod, and put his arm around my hip. “Good morning,” he said and kissed me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” I said with a smile.

Kyle started to tread on the spot. “I don’t want to interrupt you,” he said pointing toward the bathroom, “but the brown car is honking.”

I watched speechless as he squeezed past us and pulled the door shut behind him.

Holden breathed in deep, raising his eyebrows. “What did I tell you?”

Holden made us scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee for breakfast on this lazy Sunday morning. Black, because Kyle, whose turn it was to go shopping, didn’t get milk.

“Have you got plans for next Saturday?” Holden asked while using a wooden spatula to divide the scrambled egg over two plates.

“No.”

“A few friends of mine are driving to Winthrop. Campfire on the beach, cheap beer, and old stories.” He gave me a tender look. “I’d like to introduce you.”

Oh, wow. He was ready for the next step.

“Your friends?” I was a bit surprised . . . and I was flattered. “Yes, I’d like to get to know them.” I took a bite of my toast. “Have you known them for long?”

He nodded. “Some since kindergarten.”

OK, he was serious. Or, did he introduce all his girlfriends to his childhood friends?

“They’ll like you,” he added, then leaned toward me, took my chin between his thumb and index finger, and kissed me in a way that wasn’t sexual. It was a tender warm kiss. A kiss that gave me the feeling of being sheltered. The feeling of being loved. As I looked at him, I suddenly noticed something I hadn’t seen before.

“How did you get that scar?” I gently stroked the thin white line along his temple, just under his hairline, with my fingertips.

Holden leaned back in his chair, taking his time before answering.

“In a fight,” he finally said. “I was fourteen. The other guy was two years older than me, but he didn’t stand much of a chance.” Holden stopped briefly. “Until he pulled his knife. He barely missed my eye.”

I put my hand on my mouth. “That sounds terrible.”

He grimaced and looked out the window. He drifted off into the past. “Maybe he saved my life,” he said suddenly.

A disbelieving “What?” was all I could say.

Holden took a deep breath before continuing.

“When my mother left my father and me, I lost my way pretty badly.”

“But you were only six then, right?”

He nodded. “First, I cried a lot, kept asking my dad about her, and imagined her coming back one day.” He took a moment before continuing. “But when I reached puberty, my sadness turned into rage—and I had to let it out somehow.”

“So that wasn’t your first fight?”

He smiled bitterly. “No, it wasn’t. I looked for trouble anywhere and everywhere, started a fight with anyone who gave me a wrong look. Just to have a reason to punch someone. I always waited for the other guy to hit first. That was my justification for beating him up. I never got into serious trouble because I never started it, at least not physically.”

 I looked at him attentively. I couldn’t help but ask myself what kind of person Holden had been when he was a teenager.

“But if you push it too far, you’ll eventually meet your match.” He pointed at the scar. “If that hadn’t happened I’d almost certainly have continued on a dark path and be God knows where now. Maybe in jail. Or dead.” He smiled. “But thanks to Julien Bedford and his switchblade I’m now studying mechanical engineering at Harvard. And . . . I’m with you.” He kissed my hands and then each of my knuckles.

“If that’s so, we should send Julien Bedford a gift basket, shouldn’t we?” I said ironically.

Holden winked. “He’s on my Christmas card list.”

I smiled at him, wondering to myself what kind of a mother could leave such a wonderful boy.

“And your Mom?” I asked cautiously. “Have you ever seen her again?”

“Sure,” he answered to my surprise. “We have regular contact. She comes to visit me at least once a week.”

I frowned.

“On my nineteenth birthday, she showed up at my door, told me how sorry she was for everything, but she couldn’t see anything else to do back then.”

“Oh,” I said drily. And I had thought I had a bad mother. Mine at least had hung around.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Holden said, looking at me.

I shook my head. “I just can’t understand how a mother would do something like that to her child. I . . . to be honest, I don’t know if I could have forgiven her.”

Holden pressed his lips together sadly, almost resigned and shrugged. “She’s my mother.”

That was all he said, and I let it go.