Chapter Five
Steele
"How long do I have to stay at this thing?" I asked my driver. I lounged in the back of the town car and made no move to get out.
He hooked an arm over the passenger seat and grinned at me. "Invite says the festivities go until midnight."
I groaned. Max ignored my reticence and jumped out to open my door. I dragged myself out of the town car and straightened my custom-tailored tuxedo. Platinum cuff links scraped at my wrists and I tugged the sleeves down.
I eyed the long red carpet and wished there was another entrance. "You couldn't just drop me off at the back door, could you?"
Max tugged his chauffeur's hat down and tried not to smile. "No, sir. Front door service only for the Channings."
"My father told you that?" I asked.
Max nodded and shut the town car door behind me with a flourish. "Have a good night, sir."
I watched my driver abandon me and then faced the lines of photographers. "Damn. I should have brought a date," I muttered.
Then I straightened my shoulders, plastered on a smile, and started up the long stone steps to the museum doors. Channings were expected to make a good impression no matter what. No matter that I wanted to be a hundred miles away and not trussed up in a tuxedo.
I thought about the humming growl of my Harley Davidson and how I'd rather be heading out to the Rebar Roadhouse.
No. I pushed it out of my head. I couldn't let a foolish hobby take my mind off the business at hand. It was my job to represent my family and our extensive business holdings at the museum's high profile charity gala.
"Mr. Channing, we're delighted you could join us tonight." A representative from the museum's major gifts department ran down the steps to shake my hand.
"Looks like a great party," I said.
He waved off the photographers and swept me up the steps and into the gala. Before I could blink, a flute of champagne appeared in my hand, and the museum representative was gently shepherding me toward the silent auction.
I thanked him and sidestepped the auction tables in favor of the main floor. It wouldn't be long before I was surrounded by my family's snobby social circle, and I preferred to scope out the crowd myself. As soon as my mother's friends spotted me, it would be nothing but potential set-ups and gold-digging flirts.
The small orchestra finished their performance and shuffled off the stage for a break. As the floor cleared, I noticed a slender woman in a stunning black evening gown.
A current of excitement ran through my body. Did I know her from somewhere? Her wide eyes and stiff shoulders told me she was not a regular on the charity ball circuit.
The black satin clung to her slender curves and the low back exposed a length of silky, pale skin. So she wasn't a golden tan jet-setter. I moved a few steps closer, taking in her soft brown hair and the graceful slope of her bare shoulders. It didn't matter who she was, I had to meet her.
Then she turned and scanned the crowd, a worried crease forming between her eyes. I followed her concerned gaze and spotted the trouble-maker. He leaned sloppily against the bar, hitting on a newly-minted trophy wife in an outrageous blue sequin dress.
The drunken man turned and recognition hit me harder than a gut punch. He was a regular at the Rebar Roadhouse. My buddy, Hack, had been complaining about him for weeks now. Reese something. He stuck mainly to the back room gambling tables but there was a distinct chance he would recognize me.
The gorgeous woman I had been eyeing caught Reese's arm and dragged him to a quiet corner. I watched for a full minute while I tempered my disappointment. I couldn't approach her now. My only chance of escaping Reese's recognition was to avoid him entirely.
Ross Alan appeared as if on cue. "Stop acting all aloof and help me carry these drinks. Our group's at those tables over there."
I caught the three champagne flutes my friend fumbled. He sloshed the other four he carried in a mock salute to me, and then led the way across the museum's marble floor.
"What were you doing lurking around the bar anyway?" Ross asked.
"Just taking a lap before settling in," I said.
Ross snorted. "Always the smooth operator."
He delivered the champagne flutes to the large, round table. His wife, an exquisite beauty with long black hair and twinkling black eyes, stood up to embrace me.
"Steele! There you are. Didn't I tell you I have someone just dying to meet you?" Mrs. Alan asked.
Ross laughed. "Too late, Helen. I think he already has his eye on somebody."
My friend waggled his eyebrows and elbowed me in the side. I thought of the small scar and the myriad other secrets I was keeping from him. At least a relationship was not one of them.
"Not in the least. I'd love to meet your friend," I told Helen.
It was a regrettable decision but I felt more capable of dealing with one interested woman than with the twenty-or-so people that made up our closest social circle.
I forgot her name, but caught the bit about her being an avid sculpture fan. We strolled toward the museum's Rodan collection. I tensed up as I saw Reese and his gorgeous date arguing at the end of the hall but it was too late.
"Don't be nervous, sugar. I don't bite," the woman on my arm said.
We discussed Rodan's creative portrayal of musculature but I didn't really hear a word she said. I couldn't keep my eyes off the woman in the black satin gown. What on earth was she doing with Reese?
"If this is boring, we could get out of here," the woman suggested. She batted her long eyelashes up at me.
It was tempting and not because she was a buxom, platinum blonde. The only way I could guarantee that Reese did not recognize me was if I left the gala. Helen's friend looked hopeful as I hesitated, but there was no way I could leave.
"Sorry, darling. The museum expects me to lay down some big bids at the silent auction," I said.
My family were major donors and would, no doubt, be mentioned in the museum's prepared speeches and gracious toasts. My absence would be noted. I grimaced. Not just noted, but discussed. Within an hour speculation and rumors would be rampant. If there was anything that sparked my father's volatile anger, it was the hint of a scandal.
I steered my companion back toward the main room. She licked her lips and looked forward to spending my money at the silent auction. Instead of answering her warm smile, I extricated my arm from her grasp.
"It was so nice to meet you, but I need to attend to some family business. You do understand, don't you?" I asked.
She pouted but nodded. No one second-guessed a Channing's business. My last name didn't evoke the Midas touch for nothing.
I ducked into a side gallery and told myself I just needed a few minutes alone to regroup. The fact that I found myself approaching the intersection where Reese was still arguing with his beautiful date was just a coincidence.
It was juvenile but I sneaked closer, using a Grecian-Roman frieze to block my approach from view. I just wanted to know what had her looking so worried. Helping a distressed woman seemed like too good of an opening to miss. I didn't question my fascination with her because it felt so good. The truth was I hadn't felt the faintest excitement over a woman in the last few years.
"Just tell me the truth, Reese. Now," she said.
"Now? This is ridiculous. We came here to have fun, remember?" Reese tried to sidestep her but the woman had fast reflexes. "I'm not going to tell you. You're just looking for another reason to judge me."
She sighed. "There's a difference between judging you and trying to help. I can't help if I don't know how deep of trouble you're in."
From the few times I had seen Reese at the Rebar Roadhouse, it was a sure bet he had an outstanding gambling debt. My motorcycle club was full of decent men, but even they couldn't resist gouging a drunk and braggart now and then. He'd probably run his mouth a bit too much and had gotten conned into a bad bet as a consequence.
"It's nothing I can't handle. I just need a little money."
She held up both hands to stop him. "Don't give me the 'it takes money to make money' speech again, Reese. I've heard it too many times."
"Then what do you want me to say, Claire? You want me to grovel?" Reese asked.
He advanced on her with a threatening scowl and I stepped out from behind the frieze. There would be no explaining away how I punched out a guest into the antiquities gallery, but I was willing to deal with the scandal.
Luckily, neither Reese or his date saw me. She threw her hands up in disgust and marched back to the main room. Reese swore for thirty seconds straight before kicking the base of a headless statue and trailing after the woman in the satin dress.
I followed them but stopped at the silent auction tables to do my due diligence. Placing bids at random, I watched the couple from across the large hall. He must have apologized because he coaxed a tight smile out of her. It faded the second he grabbed them more champagne, but it seemed like a truce had been struck.
"Trying to escape to wine country?" Ross elbowed me in the side again. "I knew you had your eye on some lucky lady."
I signed my name to the silent auction bid without looking at the wine country prize. "Doesn't matter," I said. "She's taken."
Ross laughed. "Um, has she met you? My own wife would dump me in a second if you were interested, and you're telling me this woman is out of reach?"
I rolled my eyes and moved on to make another outrageous bid. I stopped with the pen midway in the air. Was that the explanation for the jolts of excitement?
It made me cringe to admit, but I'd had affairs with married women before. The raw thrill of it always wore off fast and left me feeling sad. Tearful confusion and the fear of scandal had made me give up what some other men in my circle considered a hobby.
Not that my own hobby didn't have its own set of deceptions. I didn't judge, I just wanted something else. I wanted an independent woman who had no need for my family's wealth or social status. Someone who worked as hard as I did and understood the need for an adrenaline-filled outlet like my secret motorcycle club membership.
"Is that her?" Ross asked.
I had been staring. Reese had gone off to the bar again. She stood talking with a few interested men. I frowned at the sudden stab of jealousy in my gut.
"Let's go. I'll make the introductions," Ross said.
Before I could stop him, he marched across the room and joined the knot of people where she stood. I caught up just in time to hear my friend introduce himself.
"And this is my near and dear friend, Steele Channing," Ross said. "Steele, this is Claire."
She turned and held out her hand to shake mine. As we touched, I saw a flare of recognition in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat; what if she'd met me at the roadhouse? My secret would be out and the scandal would spread faster than wildfire.
"Sorry!" Claire said. "I mean, it's nice to meet you. I've seen your name on a donor wall dozens of times, Mr. Channing. That's why it seemed so familiar."
I relaxed and brought her delicate hand to my lips. "Please, call me Steele."