“Noah, darling.” His mother, skinny and sharp and fashionable, appeared around the side of his father. Unlike Robert, she didn’t even attempt to look at him, her gaze blank and deliberately unfocused as she rose toward him.
Noah turned his face so her attempt at getting a cheek kiss from him turned into an air-kiss against his own cheek. It was the best he could do for the woman who’d abandoned him when he’d needed her most.
Robert had been a distant figure throughout Noah’s childhood, always at court or at his office, but Virginia had been an involved mother. She’d taken Noah to nursery school, picked him up afterward, driven him to swimming lessons, then helped him study so he’d be smart going into elementary school. She’d been the quintessential soccer mom whose world revolved around her son.
Until that son wasn’t perfect anymore.
“Introduce me to your date,” Virginia said now, her social mask in place.
Noah made the introductions. Kit’s gracious warmth softened his own coldness, coldness he couldn’t hide. The ice inside him made him feel brittle, as if he’d crack with even the finest pressure.
“I’m so sorry,” Kit said just when Noah couldn’t take it anymore. “I see a studio exec Noah promised to introduce me to—do you mind if I steal him away?”
Robert and Virginia smiled their acquiescence, but Robert put his hand on Noah’s arm when he would’ve moved past. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We haven’t had a chance to talk properly for months.”
“Sure,” Noah said and moved on, having to fight the urge to brush his hand over his arm to rub off his father’s touch. Robert had stopped touching him in any way when Noah was just seven years old; these days, on the rare occasions when he did, Noah couldn’t stand it.
As for that call, he’d answer it, but only because he owed Robert one for helping out when Molly and Fox had needed urgent legal advice after a massive breach of their privacy during the tour. But any talking would be on Robert’s side—Noah’s father had no right to any part of Noah’s life.
“Hey.” Kit leaned in close, her voice, her scent, cutting through the ice as if it didn’t exist. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding until the exhale eased the pressure on his chest.
“Drink the rest of that champagne.”
He’d forgotten he was holding it. “No, you’re right. I need a clear head.” Placing the flute on the tray of a passing waiter, he grabbed a glass of ice water instead. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Lisa.”
“I just said that to get us away.” Kit’s eyes lingered on his face. “We can sneak out now if you want.”
“We have to stay at least until the bidding starts.” Finishing off the water, he set it on another tray. “Thanks. I needed a friend back there.”
Amber eyes glowed with fierce emotion. “No thanks needed.”
The next hour wasn’t bad. He liked being able to introduce Kit to people who could help further her career, but that was as far as he needed to go—soon as someone met her, they were drawn into her orbit.
The clear sound of a bell silvered through the air not long after they’d finished a conversation with Cyril King. A minute later, Margaret went up to the podium to make her speech on behalf of the foundation. Noah listened with half an ear, the rest of his attention on Kit; he didn’t want to waste a minute of this night he’d been given as a gift.
A night where he could pretend he was good enough to stand by her side.
“If you don’t bid during the auction,” Margaret said at the end of her speech, “I’ll hunt you down and guilt you into writing a check, so you might as well get something for it.”
Everyone laughed, the mood happy thanks to the atmosphere, food, and drinks.
The auction began straight afterward, and true to his word, Noah drove up the prices with relentless determination, even acting affronted when he was outbid. He almost went too far with the vomit plate; only Kit’s elbow jab to the ribs stopped him from acquiring the monstrosity.
“I think we’ve done enough,” he whispered, leaning down to her ear.
Kit looked carefully around. “It’s shadowy with the soft lighting, and we’re at the back, while everyone’s looking forward. Let’s go take a break.”
Noah had already spotted the best door; it led deeper into the mansion, and as far as he could tell, it wasn’t locked. Almost there, he saw a waitress about to pass by with hors d’oeuvres. “Thanks,” he said and grabbed the whole tray. Winking at her when her mouth fell open, he slid out the door Kit had already opened. He saw her pick up a couple of glasses of ice water from a tray that had been by the door before she followed him out.