Page 12 of Embrace Me

For years, he’d been telling her that she was strong, and there had never been a day when he didn’t believe it. But today he saw it fully. She looked powerful as she stood up there, as in-control as he’d ever been in a boardroom. His wife, his love. The woman he would give his life for, and the woman he admired more than anyone else in this world.

“That’s it,” Evelyn whispered beside him. “That look in your eye right now. That’s the kind of pride I have for both of you.”

He swallowed moved by her words, and he squeezed her hand in silent acknowledgement as Nikki began to speak. Her voice was strong, and she made eye contact with several members of the audience, just as he’d been taught by all the PR people who used to circle him back in his tennis days.

He’d seen her speak before, both at functions like this and to potential clients and partners. More than that, he knew that she’d had training. She’d been forced into various pageants that her mother had made her enter. It had been her own personal hell—he knew that—he couldn’t deny that she’d walked out of that experience poised and articulate, and he supposed in a way, she’d turned something horrible into something good. Like a diamond out of coal.

“—and that’s why we’re taking today to honor you, our volunteers and donors,” Nikki said, well into her speech by now. An acknowledgment of all the people who donated their time and money to help the kids that the SCF sponsored. “Please, give yourself a round of applause.”

She met Damien’s eyes as he clapped with the rest of the crowd, then smiled. “But this isn’t just a day to celebrate what we already have,” she continued as the applause died down. “We have something special in the works, and it’s my honor to announce to you all that starting next month we’ll begin filming for a documentary series that follows the journey of several of the kids who’ve been the recipients of aid from the Stark Children’s Foundation or scholarships from the Stark Education Foundation. We have so many wonderful—I—I mean, so many wonderful stories to tell, and…”

Damien frowned as she continued, only half-listening as she talked about the series that had recently been green-lit. As far as he could tell, he was the only person in the audience who had even noticed the hitch.

But he had noticed, and it wasn’t a simple stumble of words. He knew her too well. And even now he heard the tremor in her voice as she said, “A-and now I’ll turn the microphone over to our producer, Jamie Archer Hunter, who—, um, who can give you more details and answer your questions.”

Damien frowned, still concerned, and he barely noticed as Jamie approached the podium as Nikki stepped away. He barely noticed, because his eyes were searching the room, and stiffened when he saw what had made Nikki stumble.

Elizabeth Fairchild, Nikki’s mother, standing right in the doorway.

Chapter Six

I keep my eyes on Mellie as I finish my speech. I want to find Damien in the crowd. Want his strength to fuel my own. But I keep my focus on Mellie because I have to. Because I can. Because I told her I’m strong, and dammit, I am.

There is no way I’m standing up here and letting her see my weakness betray me. If anything, I’m going to be the proof that it’s possible to fight your demons.

All of which is good and well, I think as I descend from the stage, but what the hell is my mother doing here, anyway?

I draw in a breath and paste on a smile as I quickly introduce Jamie. Her smile is equally wide, but I know her well enough to see the question in her eyes. I’m not fooling her at all. More than that, I hear the quick little intake of breath as she casts her gaze out over the audience, obviously catching the coiffed blond-gray hair of my mother.

She turns back to me, and for what seems like an eternity but is surely only a brief moment, our eyes meet and hold. Then she pastes on her camera-ready smile, reaches for my hand, gives me a quick squeeze for solidarity, and says, “Let’s all give Nikki Stark a round of applause. She was instrumental in bringing this program to life, not to mention all the work she does here at the Stark Children’s Foundation.”

I nod my head in acknowledgement, then quickly descend from the platform, taking care to hold the handrail. Not because I’m unsteady because of my pregnancy, but because my mother has knocked me completely off-kilter.

I’m not surprised to find Damien waiting for me just a few feet away. When I’d been on the podium, he’d been standing in the center of the room, right in the middle of my focus. I don’t know how he’s gotten to me so quickly—the room is packed—but he’s there, right where I need him.

He pulls me into a tight hug, telling me in a voice loud enough for anybody standing nearby to hear, that he’s so proud of me and the work I’ve been doing as a Youth Advocate and in getting the docuseries off the ground.

All of that is true, of course, but what he’s really saying is that he’s proud of me for not losing it at the unexpected sight of Elizabeth Fairchild.

We slip off to the side, knowing that no one is going to judge us harshly for leaving while Jamie is providing more information about the upcoming series. As soon as we’re out of the main area and in one of the halls, Damien reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes hard on mine.

I nod. “I’m fine.”

He studies me, then extends his hand. “Maybe we haven’t met...”

I laugh. I used that same line on him once when he was bullshitting me.

“I’m surprised,” I admit. “And she definitely knocked me off my game. But I guess I’m okay. I’m just kicking myself, because I should have confronted her. I should have shown myself and Mellie that I’m strong.”

“You are strong,” Damien says. “And you confronted her before. Kicked her very squarely back to Texas, as I recall.”

That’s true. I had. And I was damned proud of myself, too. I still am. But that doesn’t answer the big question—why the hell isn’t she still halfway across the country?

“I don’t get it,” I say. “She has to know she’s not welcome.”

“No,” Damien says. “She’s not welcome at all.”

As I watch, he pulls out his phone and taps out a message. He doesn’t say what he’s doing, but I’m certain I know, and I take a step backward so that I can see out into the main area from where we are in the hallway.