Page 41 of Halstead House

The feeling of liberation that came from that thought stole my breath in a way his kiss had not. I was free to act for myself and not apologize for it. A wave of dizziness hit, causing me to blink a few times and reach above me to brace myself on the floor beams.

His face went quickly from surprise at me pulling away back to his typical confidence when he saw what appeared to be my reaction to his kiss. “Sorry,” he said with a knowing look. “You’re just so beautiful that I forgot myself.”

As I came back to the present, I felt my head cock to the side like Ana’s so often did, and I met his gaze. Huh. So that’s what it felt like to have a line delivered. He was the first guy to ever try that kind of thing on me, and I found it kind of funny. Did girls go for that?

“I need to get back to Ana,” I stated as I turned and walked out from under the veranda.

“Can I see you again sometime?” he asked when we entered the crowded building.

I stopped walking and turned to face him. He really was incredibly handsome and quite charming, and he’d been kind to me. Which made turning him down even harder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Thankfully he took it stoically and offered me a small nod and smile before going back to wherever he’d come from. Ana looked me once over as I approached the table and sat down.

“So?” she asked.

“So, he took me under the veranda,” I replied.

“Ah, the make-out zone. Did he kiss you?” I nodded. “Are you okay?” Her face was full of concern, and I hurried to put her at ease.

“I’m totally fine. Well, sort of. I’m new to all of this, but there were no butterflies and I kept thinking about the stiletto heels on the veranda floor above me, so I broke off the kiss and came back inside.”

“So, not a love match.” Ana’s face lightened.

“No.”

“Was he angry?”

“I don’t think so. But, the strangest thing happened. I was getting ready to apologize for ending it, when I suddenly realized I had nothing to say sorry for. He can be angry if he wants to be angry.” I said the last part in a whisper as my mind reeled once more.

Ana laughed out loud and patted my arm. “Therapy session complete, thanks to an unexpected assist from Jonathan.”

I snapped out of my musings and grinned. “Having me kiss a near stranger and then turn him down with no regard for his feelings was the goal for this session?”

“Of course not. We aren’t terrible humans, mostly. This lesson is a biggie, and it happened a little differently than I would have planned, is all. The thing is, it’s okay to care about what you want, or don’t want, and to stop apologizing for that.”

I nodded and gazed at the dance floor. “Besides,” I said, casually taking a sip of my drink, “it’s obvious he only loves me for my hair, which would bring nothing but problems.”

For the second time that night Ana laughed out loud, but this time I joined her.

CHAPTER 11

The fortieth birthday party was in full swing, spilling out from the ballroom, through the conservatory, and down into the garden. People were everywhere, and the sound of their laughter and the tinkling sounds of endless toasts permeated the air. There was a sense of celebratory abandon that I’d seen often from the outside but had never fully understood.

Women were dressed in deceptively casual-looking sundresses and hats that I knew cost a small fortune. Their teeth were glaringly white and their spray tans perfect. The men looked equally polished in button-up shirts of varying prints and pressed shorts. It was clear that the birthday boy was doing quite well for himself, which made me wonder why on earth he’d wanted a clown. There weren’t even children in attendance. Odd.

Then again, maybe he was like me and he’d finally broken free of a strict upbringing and wanted to celebrate with the clown he’d always been denied as a child. Or, his buddies tried to order the clown without him knowing. I’d heard guys did things like that.

Eliza had asked me to station myself in the garden, while Ana would be in the conservatory and she, herself, would be in the ballroom. I had happily agreed, always enjoying the atmosphere of the garden. A gigantic white canopy had been set up near the fountain with groupings of chairs here and there. All were filled with women and their carefree chatter.

I moved about the periphery, watching for anyone who may need my help. So far that had entailed one broken sandal strap, two cases of drippy mascara (this humidity), and a yappy purse pooch trying to steal the food off another woman’s plate.

As I strolled around, I caught snippets of conversations. Most of them revolved around relationships. Husbands, boyfriends, children, in-laws, parents, siblings—the people who made up their world. It seemed to be a universal topic, from what I’d observed. And I’d observed a lot.

It had been a while since the old envious feelings had cropped up behind my passive expression. I’d become adept at not thinking about how hollow my life was. However, today felt different. Here these women were, some professional, some homemakers, sharing the things that made them the same. They laughed and doled out tips, suggestions, and support, the whole while having no idea how lucky they were.

After an hour or so I decided maybe it would be nice to trade places with Ana. The conservatory was more of a pass-through room as people moved between the ballroom and the garden. I was feeling melancholy after comparing my lonely existence to the rich and full lives of the garden ladies.

Ana agreed, and I spent the remaining hours of the party tucked away among the ferns. It didn’t have the effect I was going for, however. I watched the guests through windows, making up stories about their lives that had no basis in fact. No one’s life was perfect, and I knew that. It didn’t matter. In short, I was feeling ugly and resentful inside by the time the guests left. Those were emotions I’d made little room for in my life, and now they were baring their teeth and begging to be embraced.

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