Lie to Me (30 page)

That war on her emotions had had her avoiding Harold all evening. As a waiter went by, she snagged a glass of champagne, hoping to relax.

The voices of newly arriving guests drew her attention toward the atrium to find her grandmother greeting her longtime friends, the Johnsons. The hugs and air-kisses depressed Chloe further. If Melinda Johnson knew half the things DeeDee said about her behind her back, the “friendship” would have ended years ago. Of course, she imagined Melinda did plenty of dissing about DeeDee.

Before Chloe could turn her back on that scene, Luc stepped through the atrium doors.

The knot in Chloe’s stomach released. Just like that. Seeing him made her chest expand and her heart lift. Even though she’d been longing for him to arrive, the reaction startled her. How could she have gone from anger and mistrust a few days ago to elation at seeing him now?

Oh, but he looked incredible in a gray suit, yellow dress shirt, and patterned tie. Frowning nervously, he searched the crowd. She started forward just as DeeDee noticed him.

“Good evening,” she heard DeeDee saying in that cool manner of hers. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you a friend of my daughter?”

“He’s with me,” Chloe said, coming up behind her grandmother, her voice breathy with joy. “Hello, Luc. I’m glad you made it.”

The instant Luc turned and saw Chloe, he nearly swallowed his tongue. She wore a form-hugging blue dress that left her shoulders completely bare, and made her breasts look like an offering. Her dark hair had been swept into a sleek up-do of some sort that emphasized her amazing face. Normally she wore very little make up, but tonight she’d put on just enough to accentuate her eyes, cheekbones, and lush mouth in a way that made him dizzy.

All of that paled, though, in comparison to her smile. Her obvious happiness at seeing him stole his breath.

“DeeDee, I’d like you to meet my friend, Luc Renard,” she said. “Luc, this is Deirdre LeRoche, my grandmother.”
 

“So glad you could come to our celebration,” DeeDee LeRoche said, extending a hand with elegant grace.

“Thank you for having me.” Luc tore his eyes from Chloe long enough to shake the woman’s hand. It dripped with enough gemstones to top off a dragon’s hoard.

“Chloe, be sure to help your guest feel at home,” the grandmother said. “I need to check on the caterer.”

“Of course.” Chloe nodded.

DeeDee LeRoche stepped past them into the house, leaving them alone.
 

“So, that’s your grandmother,” he said, for lack of a better topic.

“The current grand matriarch,” Chloe said with an eye roll that did nothing to diminish her smile.
 

He let his gaze take another trip down her body. “You look amazing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Her lashes lowered and then lifted as she took in his suit.

“That’s a relief, since this is why I’m late.” He circled a finger to indicate his attire. “I ran into a glitch with my Style app.” He cringed the second the words left his mouth.

“Your what?” She blinked at him.

“Style app,” he sighed, figuring he might as well spill it. “I developed it a few years ago, when I got tired of dressing like a loser.”

“Oh my God.” She pressed a hand to her mouth as laughter bubbled out. “That is too funny.”

“Okay, so now you know I’m a loser despite the clothes.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she assured. “I meant it makes total sense. And explains a lot.”

“Like what?” Her laughter made him leery.

“Like how you always look so put together, as if you spend way too much time standing in front of a mirror obsessing over your appearance. I know you’re not like that, though, so I couldn’t figure it out.”

“You don’t like how I dress?”

“I do, now that I know your secret.” The way she eyed him raised his body temperature a few degrees. “So, what was the glitch in your app?”

“I only programmed it to track style changes for casual clothes. Since I didn’t have time to rework the code and order a suit online, I had to go shopping. As in actual shopping. In the real world.” He widened his eyes to convey the horror he’d lived through.

“You poor baby.” Her lips pursed in mock empathy.

“Then, I got the clothes home, and I couldn’t remember what the sales dude said about which tie went with which shirt. Something about yellow being the new black. Or was it green? Whatever. But a flower tie? Do straight guys actually wear this stuff?”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, touching the tie that the salesman had told him was a trendy throwback to the psychedelic flower-power days but in muted shades. Having her fingers on his chest did funny things to his pulse.
 

“You have no idea how relieved I am,” he said. Chloe liked him exactly as he was, Style app and all.
 

She slid her arm into the crook of his elbow. “How about I get you some champagne to help you recover from your traumatic day?”

“I’d like that,” he said, and for the first time since spotting her, he took in the scene around him.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” he said. Strings of white lights had been wrapped around all the trees, giving the garden a fairytale quality. Uniformed waiters moved through the crowd of women in colorful cocktail dresses and men in grey suits. Music from the string quartet underscored the cheerful conversations. Old money and distinguished lineage scented the air as heavily as the magnolia blossoms.
 

He experienced an unexpected twinge of intimidation as he wondered what the heck he was doing there. He would never have pictured himself, or anyone in his family, attending a party like this. He could picture members of his family working a party like this, but attending as a guest? Nope.

When he accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter, Chloe held up her own. “Cheers,” she said, the humor in her eyes telling him she found the whole scene a bit absurd.

“Cheers,” he said, returning the toast. Looking for something positive to say, he eyed the long buffet table skirted in white linen. “The food looks good.”

“The food is excellent,” she informed him dryly. As they made their way to the buffet, she leaned closer with a smile. “But I’d rather be at a pig roast.”

He took up a white china plate and started filling it with hors d’oeuvres, then frowned when she didn’t do the same. “Aren’t you having any?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Looking into her eyes, he saw signs of tension that tugged at his heart. He wanted to erase it, and bring back the laughter that had bubbled out of her so effortlessly yesterday.

“Wanna know the best way to survive a situation like this?” he asked, popping a stuffed mushroom into his mouth.

“What?” she asked, clearly intrigued.

“Pretend that fire-breathing dragon from Vortal just dropped right into the middle of the garden.”

Her eyes widened. “I love that!”
 

“Can’t you just picture the chaos?” he asked. “People screaming and running.”

“Except us, of course.” Her shoulders squared. “We’d whip out our swords and go to town, kicking dragon butt. Not too fast, though. I’d probably let the beast incinerate DeeDee’s buffet and maybe snack on a few of the guests first.”

“You are so wicked.” He shook his head, grinning at her.

“You like me wicked.” Humor sparkled in her eyes.

God, I love you,
he thought, and felt his heart thud against his ribs. A streak of panic followed at the urge to say the words aloud. Despite the sizzle of attraction he felt from Chloe each time their gazes met, they were a long way from saying the L word to each other. She might never want to say it. Heck, two days ago, they’d still been furious with each other.

He needed to slow down before he did something stupid to scare her off.

“Hey you,” a woman said, coming up behind Chloe to squeeze her shoulders.
 

Chloe’s amusement vanished before she pasted on a smile and turned. “Diane.”
 

“You haven’t introduced me to your friend.” The woman gave him a dazzling smile. He knew Chloe’s mother’s name was Diane, but this woman looked young enough to be Chloe’s sister.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “Diane, this is Luc Renard. Luc, this is Diane. My mother.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Diane said, looking more genuine about the greeting than the grandmother had.

“It’s good to meet you, too.” He shook her hand, trying to forget how much this woman had upset Chloe by trying to pressure her into taking the necklace away from him.
 

“If you don’t mind,” Diane said, smiling broadly, “I need to steal Chloe away for just a second.”

“Not at all.” He lifted his plate. “I’ll just help myself to some food.”

“Please do,” Diane said. “The caviar is especially good, so be sure you don’t miss that.”

Chloe suppressed a groan as her mother led her to an area where they could still be seen, but not overheard.
 

“Have you lost your mind?” Diane asked in a furious whisper through smiling lips. “John just told me that your guest has been trying to take our necklace away from us.”

 
“How could he know that?” Chloe asked, jolted. She never would have invited Luc if she’d known anyone in the family had a clue about his relationship to the necklace. “I never told you someone else was trying to claim the necklace.”

“The Historical Commission must have told him,” Diane said, oblivious to the bomb she’d just dropped. Good Lord, John must be actively going after the necklace if he’d contacted the Historical Commission. Diane frowned at her. “I can’t believe you’d invite the person who wants to steal the key to restoring our family fortune.”

“It’s not the key to restoring anything for us,” Chloe told her in a hard whisper, smiling with stiff lips. “The necklace belongs to Luc’s grandmother.”

“Marguerite gave it to us,” Diane insisted.
 

“How many times do I have to tell you that my finding it has nothing to do with Marguerite?”

“At first you said it did.” Diane looked both wounded and confused. “Are you changing your story because you’re interested in Luc? You’re not doing this to catch him, are you?”

“No,” Chloe said, not surprised by her mother’s assumption. “I changed my story because I found out I was wrong.”
 

“From Luc?” Diane’s expression turned skeptical. “If you’re going to help anyone get the necklace, shouldn’t it be your family?”

“Stop.” Chloe closed her eyes for a second. “I don’t want any part of this battle over the necklace. I’m not helping anyone get it. I’ve made that clear to Luc, and now I want to make that clear to you. The whole notion that it will replace Marguerite’s necklace is crazy.”

“You said it had some sort of magic.”

Chloe smiled as the Johnsons passed by, then lowered her voice even more. “Even if the necklace has the kind of magic you and John need, it wouldn’t change things in the next two weeks.”

“You don’t know that.” Desperation lined Diane’s face.

“Diane,” Chloe sighed. “The only thing that will get you out of marrying Harold is you having the guts to break things off.”

“I can’t.” Diane looked horrified.

“Yes, you can. I know the thought of having to support yourself terrifies you, but you could do it.”

“How?”
 

“You could start by selling off your jewelry while you look for a job.”

“A job doing what?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe pinched her forehead. “Become an event planner or something.”

“An event planner?” Diane pressed a hand to her chest and glanced around at the party surrounding them. “For hire?”
 

“Why not?” The idea grew in Chloe’s mind. “You’d be great at it.”

“How? With my former friends as clients? Do you know how humiliating that would be?”

“Would it be worse than marrying a man you don’t even like?”

“I didn’t say I don’t like Harold.” Diane had the grace to look down.

“Do you like him?” Chloe cocked her head.

“I don’t dislike him,” Diane hedged. “I know he’s not handsome, but…” Diane’s gaze drifted toward her fiancé. Sensing her attention, Harold looked over and smiled.

To Chloe’s complete astonishment, color bloomed on Diane’s cheeks.

“Oh my God,” Chloe breathed. “You
do
like him.”

“I don’t know.” Diane wrung her hands. “I guess. I just don’t know how to deal with him.”

Chloe decoded that to mean Diane didn’t know how to manipulate him. Well, hallelujah, she wanted to shout. About time Diane met a man who couldn’t be led around by his penis. Especially since that never lasted.

“Chloe,” a dark voice said behind her.
 

Dread raced down her spine. Turning, she found her grandfather towering over both her and Diane. “Yes, sir?”

“We need to discuss this guest you invited,” he told her.

“I apologize if you feel it was inappropriate.” Her stomach tightened as she waited for him to unleash his disappointment in her.