Authors: Susan Fox
“
You know them all by name?”
“
Of course. Don’t you know all your friends by name?”
He chuckled, then tilted his head and studied me.
“You’re a real animal lover?”
“
I can’t think of an animal I don’t like.” I reflected for a moment. “Nope, not a one. I’m not impressed when wasps sting, but it’s just their nature, and they’re insects anyhow, not animals.”
When I saw the grin on his face I realized that, for the first time in his company, I had actually relaxed. The notion made me tense up again, as did my sudden awareness that the room was now almost empty.
“We should find Richard.”
“
I suggested the two of you join my table. He can meet some of the Board members. They’ll make good contacts for him.”
“
And after all, Richard’s here to work,” I said ruefully as, side by side, we walked toward the banquet room.
“
More power to him. All I care about is the size of the donation his firm makes.”
The words didn
’t ring true. I had a sneaking suspicion he actually cared about helping Richard. Maybe Gabriel wasn’t the unloving father Richard believed him to be.
Gabriel gestured toward the front of the room, indicating I should go first. As I threaded my way among the tables and
a few still-milling guests, I said, over my shoulder, “The Multicultural Center is a wonderful organization.”
“
You know the Center?”
“
Of course. In fact an assistant at my clinic is one of their success stories.” I glanced back again and caught him staring at my shoulders, which were bare but for a narrow black strap on each side.
My flesh tingled, just as my hand had when he shook it. I cleared my throat.
“I was wondering why none of the Center’s clients are here. The ones like Martin. Your donors could see concrete examples of the great work the Center does.”
“
Good idea. We should have thought of it.”
I flushed, pleased I
’d finally said something moderately intelligent. “Martin would be perfect. He’s had a rough life but has completely turned it around. He’ll start university in the fall, and plans to be a vet, so we’re—”
A hand gripped my arm and I jumped.
“There you are, Iz,” Richard said. He shot his father a dark look. “I thought Gabe had kidnapped you.”
“
I … we were just…” I stammered.
“
Isadora,” Gabriel rescued me, “take the seat beside Richard.”
Richard rose to hold my chair and I settled myself between him and a thin, aging woman in a long-sleeved, high-necked black dress who reminded me of a crow. Gabriel sat on her other side. It was a relief to have someone between him and me.
Gabriel made the introductions, referring to me as his son’s fiancée, Isadora. I noted that crow-woman was on the Board of the Center, one of the men was the Chair, and another woman was the Director. Everyone had brought a spouse or date except the drab woman in black. And Gabriel.
When he turned his attention to the Chair
’s wife, I leaned toward Richard and murmured, “This is the head table.”
“
So it seems.”
“
Nice of your father to ask us to sit here.” I hoped that, somewhere in the huge room, the senior partner of Richard’s firm—seated at a less desirable table—was suitably impressed.
Richard tugged me closer, lips brushing my ear.
“How did it go with you and Gabe?”
I tried not to flush.
“Okay. He was polite.” Or at least he had been once he realized I didn’t plan to cheat on his son. “You should have warned me he was likely to be here.”
“
Sorry. Guess I was in denial.”
“
I wish the two of you had a better relationship.”
He shrugged.
“I gave up on that when I was a kid.” The words were offhand, but his voice held an undertone of bitterness.
A burst of laughter drew my attention. It was the Chair
’s wife, who was listening to Gabriel, looking utterly charmed. “He should’ve brought a date of his own,” I muttered, “rather than flirting with someone’s wife.”
Richard gave a surprised chuckle.
“Believe it or not, he’s not flirting. It’s just his natural charisma. It works on men, too.”
Belatedly I realized that the Chair was also hanging on Gabriel
’s words. He looped an arm around his wife’s shoulders as the three of them huddled close together.
The realization sank in that Gabriel truly hadn
’t been flirting when he smiled at me earlier, he’d just been his usual charismatic self. Thank god I’d denied that my reaction was anything other than a smile.
“
As for bringing a date,” Richard said, “he’s never been one to mix business with his personal life.”
“
You’ve always said he spent so much time on his causes, he was rarely home.”
“
Work’s his idea of fun.”
Richard might believe that, but I doubted
that a man who exuded sexuality the way his father did was an all-work, no-play guy.
Determinedly not looking Gabriel
’s way, I wondered if he would bother to attend our wedding. Personally, I’d be as happy if he didn’t show, and I imagined Richard’s mom and stepdad would feel the same way. But Richard would be hurt, as he’d been so often before.
“
Time to be sociable,” he murmured, and a few minutes later he’d drawn us into a conversation with the Director of the Center and her husband. They turned out to be interesting, down-to-earth people and I relaxed, at least as much as I could in this formal setting, with Gabriel DeLuca sitting only a chair away.
Waiters, in uniforms that were a cheaper version of the male guests
’ tuxes, brought fancy salads and a selection of rolls. I ate heartily, hoping the main course would be fish, but guessing meat was more likely. Sure enough, when my dinner plate arrived, it held chicken in a wild mushroom sauce, with rice pilaf and a selection of attractively presented vegetables. Richard whispered, “Sorry. Told you we could have phoned ahead and requested vegetarian for you.”
I hadn
’t wanted to make a fuss and, truthfully, I think he’d been grateful. “No problem, the rice and veggies look good. I’ll have room for dessert.”
He gave my arm a warm squeeze.
“Did you tell Jimmy Lee where you were going tonight?”
His voice was back at normal conversational volume and, without thinking, I responded the same way.
“And stir him up? He doesn’t have much perspective about this kind of event.”
“
What do you mean?”
I jumped, realizing the woman seated between me and Gabriel had asked the question. Her name was Althea Fitzsimmons, I remembered, though to me she was crow-woman. Her voice held an edge of belligerence.
“What’s wrong with this kind of event?”
“
Not a thing, Ms. Fitzsimmons.” Damn, I’d offended a Board member. “Everyone’s here to support a very worthwhile cause.”
“
Iz’s father is a leftover hippie,” Richard said. “He believes in hugging trees rather than donating dollars to save them.”
“
He’s a political activist,” I clarified. “He believes in direct, hands-on action. But it takes all kinds of different efforts, doesn’t it, to bring causes to the public’s attention and get them properly funded?”
“
Hell, Isadora, don’t tell me your father’s Jimmy Lee Wheeler?” The words came from Gabriel.
Startled, I stared at him. But of course it wasn
’t surprising an activist lawyer might have crossed paths with my father. “Sure is. You know him?”
“
Oh, yeah, and he’s a hell-raiser. Haven’t met your mom—Grace Dean, right?” He paused, then when I nodded, went on. “The two of them have done a hell of a lot of good work.”
“
Thanks.” His comments warmed my heart. Although I often wished my parents would grow up and act their age, I admired their intentions and respected what they’d accomplished.
“
They’re never afraid to take a stand,” he said.
I smiled in acknowledgment.
“They were Americans, attending university in the days when school was more about sit-ins and demonstrations than books and lectures. They brought that attitude along with them when they came to Canada.” It had been Vietnam War days and Jimmy Lee had been a draft dodger, a fact Gabriel would likely guess and approve of. “They’re rabble rousers, that’s for sure.”
He leaned forward, past Ms. Fitzsimmons.
“Did you hear about the time I hauled your dad’s butt out of jail for chaining himself bare-ass naked to a logging truck over on Saltspring?”
“
That was you? You defended Jimmy Lee?” I leaned forward too, elbows on the table, and grinned at him. “I heard about it, but Grace and I were out of town at the time.”
We had visited her parents in Boston, parents who
’d never approved of her life choices or forgiven Jimmy Lee for existing, much less dragging her off to Canada. It had been strained, as all visits with the Deans were, but in the name of family we all worked at being civil.
“
Wasn’t much to defend, since he was determined to plead guilty.” He shook his head ruefully. “But I did get him community service rather than more jail time.”
I gave a hoot of delight.
“Planting trees. I remember. You weren’t his favorite person. When I talked to him on the phone he was grumbling about his sadistic lawyer. He said he was too damned old to plant trees, he’d rather be resting his butt in a comfy jail cell.”
“
Well, if any butt would be familiar with jail cells, it would be Jimmy Lee’s.”
“
Let me tell you, Grace was plenty relieved you got him out of jail. She always worries that—”
“
Uh, Iz? Gabe?” Richard broke in.
I
’d been so wrapped up in the conversation with Gabriel, I’d forgotten about everyone else at the table. Now, Richard’s embarrassed expression brought me to my senses. I jerked upright in my seat and yanked my elbows off the table. Gabriel straightened too, and crow-woman made a huffy sound.
Gabriel caught my eye and raised his eyebrows in a
what can you do?
expression, and I barely managed to hold back a giggle. I could actually like the man. Besides, he’d get along fantastically with Grace and Jimmy Lee. Suddenly, the prospect of being related to him didn’t seem too terrible. When I knew him better, knew him as a real person rather than a sexy across-the-room stranger, I’d stop feeling attracted to him.
The gray-haired Chair of the Board—whose name was Chambers, if I remembered correctly—said to me,
“So you’re a tree-hugger, are you? That’s commendable. We’d have a lot more clear-cutting and extinct species without people like you.”
“
I…” I ran a hand through my hair. Now these people thought I was an activist like my parents, and at least some of them admired me for it. I couldn’t rest on false laurels, so said, “I’ll tell my parents you said so. I haven’t been involved myself. I’m, uh”—I cleared my throat and said, a touch apologetically—”a veterinarian.”
Gabriel stared
at me with a puzzled expression. “Thought you liked being a vet,” he muttered.
“
I do.” Yet I knew that, on the scale of social worth, it didn’t measure up beside the work my parents and Gabriel did.
Fortunately, Mr. Chambers and the Center
’s Director started talking about extinct species, and I could concentrate on eating my meal. Or, rather, my rice and veggies. I noticed Gabriel doing the same. Richard ate meat, but perhaps his dad was a vegetarian like me and my parents.
I
’d just taken a spoonful of dessert—a rich concoction of fruit, meringue, and whipped cream—when crow-woman said, “You’re a veterinarian?”
“
Yes, I am.”
“
My Persian cat has a few sore spots. What might it be?”
If
the gray-haired woman was a cat owner, perhaps she was less edgy than she looked. “I couldn’t say without examining … her?” When a nod confirmed the cat’s gender, I said, “Has she been to your vet?”
“
Haven’t been impressed with the vet I’ve been using. Anyhow, I’ve been cleaning the spots thoroughly, using antiseptic, applying lotion. I thought they’d clear up.”
I nodded sympathetically.
“I know it seems like a good idea, but unfortunately antiseptic can irritate, depending on what’s actually wrong. You really do need to have a professional look at her. I know you don’t want her to suffer.”
“
Of course not.” She scrutinized me for a long moment. “Do you have a card?”
“
I do.” I dug in my bag. “By the way, I have a Persian, too. They’re lovely, aren’t they?” Would wonders never cease? I’d teased Richard about schmoozing, and now I might acquire a new patient myself.