CHAPTER TWO
Ainsley
“Drake!”
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me with those big dark eyes, searching my face. Whatever expression was in them I couldn't fathom. It was like the whole room had gone still and quiet and it was just the two of us. And a silence like an ice desert, or a thread of steel, that pulled tight between us.
“Drake!” I said again. “It is you, isn't it?”
I felt fingers tighten on my wrist. Lacey was gripping my wrist with her fingers like claws.
“Ainsley,” she whispered. “We should move...”
I twisted round in time to notice an older couple, resplendent in Dior and diamonds, behind us. I flushed crimson, realizing I had blocked the way for everyone. I heard angry and relieved whispers as I moved.
“Sorry,” I whispered to Lacey.
Lacey was as white as a sheet and my attention, which had been consumed by Drake, suddenly focused on her. Social situations were hard for her anyway, I knew that. And I had just embarrassed her more than anything else ever could have.
“Lacey?” I whispered numbly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes...”
She held onto my wrist tightly and I was considering what to do next when someone spoke behind me.
“Ainsley?”
“Drake?” I felt a sudden annoyance stab into me. “Look – this isn't a good time,” I began impatiently. “My friend isn't feeling well and I think we should...”
“I'm fine,” Lacey whispered. Her voice sounded like it came down a long tunnel. “I just want to be by myself awhile.”
“Okay,” I nodded. “Excuse me,” I said to Drake. I went with her to a seat. Left her sitting there.
“You're sure you're okay?” I asked gently.
“Yes. I'm sure.”
I left her alone and headed back to the lobby. When I got there, to my surprise, Drake was still there. The shock had given way to anger, now: All my embarrassment and guilt over Lacey combined with the resentment and hurt from the past eight years made me dangerously-close to losing my temper.
“Is your friend okay?” he asked. His brow was furrowed in concern.
That did it. Here he was, standing in front of me after he hadn't seen me for eight years and hadn’t even bothered told me he was alive. Now, he was more concerned about Lacey than about me.
“She's fine,” I snapped. “She gets panic attacks. Just hope she'll be okay. If I hadn't seen you I wouldn’t have just stopped dead like that...”
I knew it wasn't his fault, not really. But all the same it felt good to blame it all on this...this...
Infuriating. Gorgeous. Stunning, almost impossibly annoying guy.
“I'm sorry,” he said tightly.
I sighed. “Look, it's not your fault,” I said wearily. “I just...what are you doing here?”
He frowned. “I work here.”
“Here?” I looked at the Hilton Hotel, wondering, stupidly, why they would need a lawyer in the lobby.
“For Steelcore,” he explained. “I'm a corporate lawyer now.”
“Oh.”
What?
Drake Leblanc worked for Steelcore Inc. A company known for the distinct suspicion that the iron they used came from dodgy mining operations in Brazil. Drake worked for these people? Defended them in court?
I looked at my hands a moment, trying to compose my thoughts. That was a big surprise. Steelcore Inc. was not a company with a good reputation. In fact, in the light of fair treatment, quite the opposite. It was the last place I would expect to find Drake. It felt as if Father Christmas had just been accused of mass-murder.
When we were students together, Drake didn't even want to do corporate law. He wanted to defend human rights. He had left me to follow that dream, flying to Kinshasa on the strength of it. I had accepted that because I knew it meant the world to him.
And now I found him here, sold out to big business?
“Ainsley? What's wrong?”
I looked up to find those big brown eyes watching me soulfully.
I sighed. “Nothing.”
I didn't know quite what to say. If he didn't even know why I was shocked, how could I begin to explain? I turned away.
“Ainsley?”
“I should get back to the party,” I said in a tight voice.
He said nothing. I walked back toward the entrance, feeling as if I was walking away from the edge of a cliff.
I was glad to walk away. All the same, when he didn't call me back, I felt quite angry. Maybe he really never had any feelings for me. What else was I supposed to think? He'd walked out of my life eight years ago and even now he didn't seem too interested in getting to know me.
Well, maybe I'm not interested in getting to know him. Looks like I didn't know him very well last time.
I had known someone completely different. A principled, caring man. Not a heartless, money-seeking one.
I looked around the lobby. Guests were coming in more slowly now. Most people had already gone through to the main hall. I looked for Lacey and found her in a chair by the entrance. She looked a little better.
“Lacey?”
“Yes?”
“You feeling okay?” I asked gently.
“I think so,” she said slowly. “I'm just about ready to go in now.”
“Okay.” I stood and waited while she got to her feet. We walked to the hall together.
Inside, the murmurs of conversation filled the air. I could hear people talking and laughing and the clink of glasses. The air smelled like expensive perfume and the thinnest trace of alcohol. Black-clad waiters moved in between the stylish guests with trays of champagne-flutes and somewhere a violin played.
I breathed in, suddenly feeling a bit of my excitement returning. This was a special night. I was in a special dress. I wasn't going to let some ghost from the past spoil it for me.
Especially not a suited, suave ghost who'd been sold out to big paychecks.
“Let's go find some champagne,” I said decisively to Lacey. She smiled.
“Let's.”
We slid through the crowded room, finding a man in a suit with a tray.
“Champagne, madam?”
“Yes, thanks.”
We each accepted a glass gratefully and saluted each other with them, then drank. Sparkling and refreshing, the champagne quenched my thirst but also fizzled in my brain, making it hard to think clearly. I giggled.
“Oh, look,” Lacey said, scanning the room from next to me. “There's Uncle Mark. I should thank him.”
I nodded. “I should too,” I said.
We wove our way through the crowd to join the party around a cheerful, bald-headed fellow with a big grin. Lacey's Uncle Mark and our benefactor. As we slipped into the circle, which included people of all ages – especially a dark-haired and handsome younger man who looked our way as we joined – I thought of Drake.
Where are you? I wondered, glancing briefly around the room with a surprising pain in my heart. It was a good question. Where had the Drake I loved – the outstanding, empathetic Drake – gone to?
Stop it, Ainsley, I thought crossly. It didn't matter where he'd gone. I didn't matter to him, so why should I care?
“You're a colleague of Lacey's?” the handsome guy asked me.
“Yeah,” I nodded. I stuck my hand out confidently. “Ainsley Johnson.”
“Hi,” he grinned. “Warren Lark.”
“Good to meet you, Warren.” I smiled coyly. I was flirting, just a little, just to see what Drake would do. I swiveled round to see if I could spot him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
I blinked. Warren had said something and I hadn't heard him. “Um, sorry, Warren,” I said softly. “What was that?”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I'm a translator,” I explained. “It's my job to rewrite books by French authors in English.”
“Wow.” he raised a brow. “That sounds pretty challenging.”
I felt a small warm flame of pride. “It is sometimes,” I said. “Depends a lot on the author and how worked up they are about keeping the spirit of the work alive...” I felt myself warm to my theme. I am passionate about what I do. It was nice to be talking to someone who seemed to be interested.
The conversation carried on for a while and then we headed over to the tables to take seats for the dinner.
Where is Drake?
I felt impatient with myself for caring, but I couldn't help it. I looked around and then I spotted him, talking with a solid, imposing looking man. From the way the others were deferring to him and his proximity to the cameras, I guessed he was the company boss.
Drake, I thought sadly, what are you doing?
There was nothing of the old Drake left. There was especially no love for me left.