“Right,” he said as he parked in the turnaround outside the house. “So what’s the plan? How would you like me to act?”
Her jaw looked tight, her shoulders set, a bitter look in her eyes. “Just…” She took a breath, staring at the big house in front of them. “Just don’t make a big deal of anything my mother says, okay? I hear it all the time and arguing with her makes it worse. I’d prefer to walk in, stay an hour or two, then leave.”
She was as guarded as he’d ever seen her. As if bracing herself for a blow.
“Hey,” he said, reaching over to take her hand, curling her cold fingers in his. Wanting to help her in any way he could. “There’s something I want you to remember.”
She didn’t pull her hand away, her gaze coming to his. “What?”
“I want you to remember you’re strong and brave and beautiful.” He tightened his fingers around hers, warming them. “I want you to remember that you, Christie St. John, are perfect. Okay?”
Like the edge of dawn showing in a cold, dark unforgiving night sky, her mouth curved and her face lost its tight, drawn look. Her fingers squeezed his back. “Thanks, Joseph.”
He smiled. “Good. Now, let’s go in and kick your family’s butt.”
Christie laughed and for the first time in weeks, Joseph felt like he’d finally done something right.
Chapter Ten
The party was in full swing, a number of her parents’ rich friends already gathered in the formal lounge. Waiters moved among the partygoers with trays of canapés and champagne. Probably the most expensive champagne. Nothing but the best for her mother, after all. There was even a string quartet playing.
It was a sight that, a couple of weeks ago, would have made her sick.
But now, as she and Joseph entered the room, all her earlier nerves seemed to have dropped away, the horrible feeling in her stomach gone.
He was holding her hand, his warm strong fingers laced with hers, and the words he’d spoken to her out in the car seemed to have lodged deep in her soul.
You’re strong and brave and beautiful. You’re perfect.
Just words. Just one man’s belief. And yet they’d given her a strength that all the steel-capped Doc Marten boots in the world couldn’t.
“Christie, darling!”
Helene St. John, picture-perfect in an expensive green silk cocktail outfit that matched her eyes, came forward to greet them. She kissed Christie on both cheeks, enveloping her in a wave of soft perfume. “You’re a bit late of course but being fashionably late is the in thing, isn’t it?”
“Hi Mum,” Christie said. Joseph’s fingers tightened around hers, a subtle reminder. And something inside her became even stronger.
Her mother waved a hand. “Oh, no, darling. Not mum. Sounds so old.” She cast a sidelong glance at Joseph, standing at Christie’s side, a tall, restless presence. “So I see you didn’t make him up after all. Introduce us, there’s a dear.” There was a flirtatious note in her voice. Helene playing the socialite again.
“This is Joseph. Joseph Ashton.”
Helene blinked, green eyes wide. “As in Ashton Technology?”
“Yes, Mrs. St. John. The very same.” Joseph smiled, dark and devastating.
“Mrs. St. John? Oh no, not that, either, please,” she simpered. “Makes me sound like my mother-in-law. Call me Helene.” Another flirtatious glance at him that made Christie cringe. “So you’re Christie’s…what do they call them these days? Boyfriend?”
Joseph’s smile didn’t falter. “I believe they call them lovers, Helene.”
Christie’s teeth sunk into her lip, a laugh bubbling in her throat at the look on her mother’s face.
Helene, clearly flustered, gave a false giggle. “Oh, how…lovely. Haven’t you done well for yourself, darling?”
Holding Joseph’s hand very firmly, Christie looked her mother in the eye. “Yes, haven’t I, Mum?”
The look in Helene’s eyes flickered for an instant at the firm, steady note in her daughter’s voice, her mouth pursing in disapproval. A frown appeared. “We’re privileged, I see. A dress instead of jeans. Lovely, darling. Though I’m not sure about that color on you. You have a tendency toward sallowness.”
And so it begins.
The rain of criticisms. Such mild complaints by themselves, but taken together they were the death of a thousand cuts. Making her feel so small and plain and ugly.
But not today. Because today she was beautiful. Today she was perfect.
“Actually, Mum, I thought the color looked good on me.”
“Oh no, sweetheart. Sorry, but it’s true. I know fashion has always been a bit of a challenge for you so take it from me.”