She Hates Me Not: A Richer in Love Romance (3 page)

A
s they approached the opulent lobby of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Lou did a double-take at her reflection in its spotless glass doors.  She doubted her own mama would recognize her.

She was more or less sewn into a full-length sequined gown that felt like silk against her skin.  The last fancy thing she’d bought for herself was a poly-blend dress on the sales rack at H&M.  This had it beat by a southern mile.

Even her shoes were comfortable in spite of their three-inch heels.  Lydia might not be the friendliest woman, but she spared no expense when it came to party clothes.

More unbelievable was the man whose arm she clasped.  Kip Richmond – the spoiled bachelor whom she’d professed to hate five hours earlier in the café – ushered her into the lobby with the confidence of someone who belonged.  The vulnerability he’d displayed in the limo had vanished the moment he climbed out.

Immediately Kip began shaking hands with anyone who approached.  He introduced Lou to each person like she was his best girl and not a burden thrust upon him by his certifiable mother.

Lou made sure to keep reminding herself of the truth.  She was doing this for her sister.  She hated men like Kipling Richmond.

He plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray and extended it to Lou.

“Aren’t you having any?” she asked.

“Not until after the auction,” he said.  “I need to keep my wits.  Since it’s silent, I have to bid carefully, and my mother is hell-bent on getting that Renoir.”

“Whose isn’t?”  Lou laughed into her glass before taking a sip.  It was delicious – crisp and fizzy and dry.  She couldn’t remember the last time she drank champagne that wasn’t on special at the Co-op.  “When does the auction start?”

“Nine o’clock.  It concludes at eleven.”  Kip shifted toward her.  “Were you planning to stay that long?”

A wisp of his vulnerability resurfaced.  Whatever his reputation, Kip was still a man.  And a decent one, Lou was beginning to suspect.  More decent than the papers gave him credit for being.

Besides, leaving early wasn’t part of the deal.  For sixty thousand dollars, Lou could pretend to have fun until Kip wanted to call it a night.  As long as she was only pretending.

“I’m with you,” she assured him.  “Until you’re ready to go.”

His confidence returned in a burst, spilling over into his smile.  If Kip kept grinning at her like that, Lou might start to wish things were real.  She always assumed the rich and famous would seem like less in person.  Less dashing.  Less eloquent.  Less attractive than their airbrushed magazine covers.

Kip Richmond was nothing but more.  More handsome.  More charming.  Definitely taller.  She’d met her share of letches, and there was nothing letchy about Kip.  Apart from a colorful past, and a crazy mama, he was almost a normal guy.  How could the tabloids have gotten it so wrong?

“Why don’t you sue them?” Lou asked.

“Who, the press?  No point, really.  It’s an uphill battle that often ends with a settlement which won’t cover the legal fees.”

“They can’t just print lies about people.”

“For every dishonorable liar, there are a hundred worthwhile journalists.  It’s wiser to cultivate a healthy relationship with those.”

Lou raised her glass in an artificial salute.  “Spoken like a spin doctor.  Did you miss your calling in PR?”

“Not at all.  I work in Public Relations for Richmond Enterprises.  It’s one of the reasons I’m here tonight.”

“What’s the other reason?”

“The Renoir.  My mother is quite adept at mixing business and pleasure.”  As the champagne tray glided by again, Kip’s eyes followed it with obvious longing.  “I would ask if you’ve found your calling, but I assume that is a detail?”

“It is.”  Her tone was a little harsher than she intended.

“And after how many dates will you share those details?”

As Lou fished for an answer, she drained her glass.  “More than we’ve got time for.”

“My schedule is flexible.”  Kip took the empty glass and set it on a nearby table.  “And you’re on holiday.”

Lou stopped herself a split-second before correcting him.  “There’s nothing special about my story.  I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times.  Daddy’s rich.  Mama’s busy.  And I get to do whatever I want.”  She tossed in a carefree shrug to underscore her lies.

Kip appeared more unconvinced than unimpressed.  “Then why are you here?”

Instead of answering, Lou pretended to admire the other guests.  Some mingled while others remained on the sidelines.  If they all pooled their jewelry and pawned it for cash, they could buy a private island.  As photographers near the entryway pivoted and aimed their cameras, a trio of actors sauntered into the lobby like the gala could finally start.

Leading the pack was a man in a navy blue suit.  His silvery dress shirt and matching tie seemed just this side of tacky.  Short hair.  Tidy goatee.  And a face that was way too familiar.

“
Saloperie!
”  Without thinking, Lou seized Kip’s left arm.

He tensed beneath her grip.  “Sorry?”

“My ex is here.  He just walked in.”  Lou tried to tamp down the panic that churned like high tide in her chest.  She flattened her other hand against her bare neck.

“Your ex?  In Stratford?  Who is he?”

Rather than answer, Lou just pointed.  A man much shorter than Kip but with the same baby-blue eyes entered the theatre lobby.  To Lou’s displeasure, the crowd actually applauded.  Her ex-boyfriend currently ruled the roost of the theatre’s resident company.  He was its poster child.  Its golden boy.

And Lou’s worst lapse of judgment ever.

“You dated Liam McGreevy?”  Kip sounded irritatingly amused.

“Summer before last.”

“You don’t seem like his type.”

When a woman approached Liam for his autograph, Lou huffed in disgust.  “And how would you know his type?”

“We attended school together – all the way through Sixth Form.  We weren’t mates,” he added hastily.

Lou’s décolletage felt like an oven beneath her clammy fingers.  This was some bad
gris gris
, and she’d brought it on herself by agreeing to date a man in exchange for money.  Even if her heart was in the right place, her conscience wasn’t on board.  She might not be breaking any of the Ten Commandments, but she doubted that St. Paul was smiling.

Liam, on the other hand, flashed his all-that-and-a-bag-of-cracklins grin while he worked his way toward her side of the lobby.  Frantically Lou searched for an escape route.  Photographers blocked the front entrance.  The theatre doors remained shut until the auction began.  More double doors led to a riverside terrace, but if Lou made a break for those, she’d only attract more attention.

“Would you like me to handle this?”  As Kip whispered the invitation, his breath tickled Lou’s ear.

A different sort of warmth rushed through Lou while she nodded.

Lightly Kip detached her fingers from his arm, guiding them to settle at his elbow.  He rested his hand atop hers with declarative firmness.  At first glance Liam would probably assume they were a couple.

In that moment of crisis, Lou didn’t mind one bit.  She also knew it wouldn’t solve the whole problem.  Whether Liam was on or off the stage, he needed drama like red beans needed rice.  The minute he noticed her, Liam would make trouble just to see her stumble and flush.  He might not be sincere, but he also wasn’t stupid, and he knew too many details.  Details that Kip did not need to hear.

Against her better judgment, Lou slid nearer to Kip as Liam approached.  She hated her urge to duck and cover, but the last thing she wanted was a scene.

If Liam noticed her, he masked his awareness with a businesslike smile aimed solely at her date.  Saying Kip’s name at an unnecessary volume, Liam thrust out a hand.  “Welcome!”

Kip appeared confused.  “Thank you.  And you are…?”

The tiniest blink of disbelief slipped past Liam’s self-assured guise as he offered his name.

It had taken Lou a while to learn when Liam was being sincere – which didn’t happen often.  He’d grown the goatee since she’d last seen him, probably for a role at the theatre.  Or maybe just to look older.  Charming as he acted, Liam wasn’t physically imposing.  Not like the man whose arm she clutched as though she might otherwise tip over.

Kip repeated Liam’s name like it rang a faint bell.  “Have we met before?”

Two blinks this time.  “We attended the same school in Surrey, all the way through Sixth Form.”

“Of course.  I thought I recognized the face.  What brings you to the gala?”

As blatant indignation replaced Liam’s doubt, Lou aimed a satisfied smile at her shoes.

“I’m with the company.”  Liam said it like Kip ought to know.

Kip nodded politely.  “Which one?”

“No,
the
company.  With the Royal Shakespeare.  I’m playing Hamlet this autumn.”

“Oh, you’re still acting.  Well that’s a brave choice, isn’t it?”  Kip began scanning the room as if he searched for someone else.  “Nice to see you again, McGreevy.  Good luck with the stage.”

Liam recovered quickly.  Or at least he pretended to.  Moving on to the next pack of potential donors, he resumed his performance as the man of the hour.  He oozed sincerity while he flirted.  He accepted every compliment with arrogant thanks.

Lou shook her head in wonder.  “He didn’t even look at me.”

“No, he didn’t.”  Kip grinned at her.  “Is that all right?  I haven’t overstepped, have I?”

“Not from where I’m standing.”  Keeping her voice low, she leaned toward Kip.  “Liam’s a liar and a two-timing jerk.  Make that a three-timing jerk.  We dated two summers back during what he called his ‘experimental’ phase.  Of course I didn’t hear about that until he broke things off.  He was ‘experimenting’ with two other people.  One of them is right over there.”

When she pointed at a man in a green velvet jacket, Kip’s eyebrows lifted.  “I see.”

“It’s my fault really.  Only a fool can be fooled by a fool.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Kip replied.  “McGreevy is quite good at deceiving others.  I had many years to watch him work, and I kept a wide berth during all of them.  Not that we ran in similar circles. I preferred maths and sports.  Rounders, cricket, football.  Especially football.”

Lou tried to imagine Kip on a soccer field.  It worked for her.  “I didn’t peg you for a jock.”

He chuckled at the suggestion.  “I’m not.  Although I love football, I’ve never been terribly good at it.  It’s more a passion than a talent.  I would ask about your passions –”

“Oh, look!”  Lou cut him off.  “They’re opening the theatre doors.  Should we go examine your mama’s Renoir?” 

Kip’s sidelong glance was shrewd.  “It’s not hers yet.”

“She strikes me as the type of woman who gets what she wants.”

When Lou started forward, Kip didn’t budge.  Letting go of his arm, she turned to face him.  Kip studied her with an interest that wasn’t frisky.  If anything, he looked suspicious.

“If I were to ask McGreevy about you, what would he tell me?”

Threatened by the question, Lou froze.  “He’d tell you not to bother.  He’d tell you that I’m a tease and an uptight Catholic girl.  He’d say that I’m a waste of your time.”

Kip stepped forward to touch her shoulder.  “Did he say those things to you?”

“Nobody’s nice to each other when they’re breaking up.”

“He really is a fool, isn’t he?”

As Kip lingered before her, Lou smelled his cologne – something woodsy and spicy, refined but also wild.  Inhaling it made her dizzy.  Or maybe that was the champagne.  She hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“Wasn’t there something about a buffet on the invitation?” she asked in the most lighthearted voice she could muster.  “What do you say, Kip?  First the Renoir, then dinner?”

His hand drifted down to grasp hers and fold it around his arm.  “It’s a beginning.”

Lou wondered how right he was.