Sean waved his hand as if he couldn’t care less. “No apology necessary, at least for me. Just buy a round of drinks one night at the bar and we’ll call it even.” He frowned. “Have you seen Sam?”
She glanced at Ryan, unfamiliar with the name.
“Yeah.” He pulled her tighter against him. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
His brother paused then nodded and she got the feeling she was missing something. “Last I saw they were talking to Drew and Rose over by the caviar bar.” He pointed to the far right of the room.
Caviar bar? Every minute, she felt more out of place. Ryan might think she belonged, but it was becoming more and more apparent that she didn’t. Waiters passed hors d'ourves and glasses of champagne to the guests and they weren’t the typical pigs-in-a-blanket she was used to. They served sushi and poached pear with prosciutto and things she couldn’t pronounce.
“Rose is Braden’s sister,” Ryan explained, seemingly distracted by something. Or someone.
Sean smiled. “Yeah, Braden is here, too, but, unlike you, he didn’t bring a date.”
With seriousness she’d never heard in his voice, Ryan said, “Portia is more than my date.”
She grew warm inside, hope blooming in her chest as she waited for him to elaborate. They hadn’t discussed their relationship or anything about the future for fear of ruining what they had together. But time was running out.
Sean’s eyebrow arched. “Sounds intriguing.”
Ryan stared at her for what felt like minutes until Sean nudged him in the ribs. Then with a hand splayed on her lower back, Ryan turned her and propelled them in the opposite direction. “Ready to say hi to the folks?”
She pasted on a smile, hiding her disappointment. What did she mean to Ryan?
Mistaking it for nerves, Ryan brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Come on. I promise you, no matter what, they won’t hold you responsible for my mistakes. They’ll love you.”
What would his parents think about their oldest son involved with Reina’s daughter? What if they hated her? Her palms grew sweaty and her heart started running a marathon beneath her breast.
Ryan weaved them through the room, not bothering to stop and chat with the various women who called out greetings. He nodded politely and sidestepped them as he and Portia made their way to his parents.
His mother caught them coming toward them and patted her husband’s arm. Both had kind and eager expressions, obviously thrilled to see their son.
Portia immediately saw the resemblance between Ryan and his father. They were roughly the same height with the same build, but his dad had a good twenty-five pounds extra on him. His hair was a distinguished gray and his eyes were identical to Ryan’s. She realized this was what Ryan would look like in thirty years.
Despite the fact their mothers were around the same age, Mrs. Sullivan appeared at least a decade younger. She wore her dark brown hair in a regal bob. Her mom hadn’t cut her silver hair in years and wore it in a long braid. Ryan’s mother wore a simple black ball gown with capped sleeves, embellished with elegant beads around the waist. Portia’s mom didn’t own anything designer, black, made in a foreign country, or created in the last thirty years. She looked like a modern-day flower child with long, flowing skirts in bright colors. That was one of the reasons that the minute Portia turned eighteen, she’d moved to New York. Between her clothes and her talk of their duties as a Muse, her mother had always managed to embarrass her. No wonder her Aunt Tina wanted nothing to do with them.
Ryan squeezed her hand as they walked up to his parents. “Mom, Dad, this is—”
“Portia.” Mrs. Sullivan placed a hand over her chest. “My goodness, you haven’t changed a bit. Please, call us Michael and Olivia. After all, we’re family. What are you doing here with Ryan?”
Shocked, Portia’s feet automatically slid into third position. “You remember me?”
“Of course. Your aunt showed us pictures of you and your sister, Viola, all the time.” Olivia took her hand. “She was so proud of you. And of course, Alexander told us Viola had moved here. We would’ve had her over for dinner, but we haven’t done much entertaining since the funeral. We’ve always considered you all part of our family even when your mother took you on all of your adventures.”
She didn’t know which part of Olivia’s comments to concentrate on first. Pictures? Adventures? Viola had attended Alexander’s funeral? Portia wasn’t even aware they’d known each other.
Michael stepped forward. “Reina had always said you’d make your way home. I’m only sorry it was after Tina and Alexander’s deaths. Still, if you ever need anything, you just have to pick up the phone and ask.”