Chapter 5
5
E lara woke up slowly to the soft warmth of the sunrise peeking through the open curtains. She had never been one to sleep in, having risen with the sun for most of her life. She slowly blinked into consciousness, feeling warm and cozy. In fact, she was too warm and cozy. That’s when the events of last night came rushing back. Grace .
That warm, cozy feeling? That was Grace’s body heat seeping through the blankets and the pressure of her hand draped across Elara’s arm. She could hear Grace’s soft breathing, slow and steady as if in the deepest of sleep. Elara knew she should try to get out of bed before Grace woke up, but she hesitated for just a moment. She couldn’t explain it, but she just did not want to disturb Grace’s sleep.
Sighing, Elara decided to first slowly roll onto her back, providing her first glance at Grace asleep. Her usually wild light brown hair was now twisted around Grace’s face, with pieces sticking in her gaping mouth, drool dripping onto the pillow. At some point in the night, Grace turned onto her stomach and splayed her limbs out wide, explaining how Elara was now beneath her left hand.
That ridiculous, fuzzy sweater had ridden up high, displaying nearly all of Grace’s spine. Everything about Grace screamed chaos, and yet she couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped her lips at Grace’s display. She should find the drooling mess appalling, but something about it was endearing. Realizing she was staring, Elara quickly tried to sneak out of bed before Grace could wake up.
Unfortunately, at Elara’s sudden movement, Grace’s eyes flew open. Elara felt frozen beneath Grace’s confused stare, locked beneath her hazel gaze. Grace snatched her hand back and scrambled to sit up.
“I’m so sorry, Elara. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t aware… I…”
Seeing Grace stammer through an attempted apology broke something in Elara. She suddenly didn’t like the idea of Grace being so uncomfortable around her.
“Grace, stop. It’s fine. People move in their sleep.”
As Grace nodded, Elara caught sight of the mess behind her— the lamp. The poor thing was shattered beyond repair.
Noticing Elara’s gaze shift, Grace turned to the broken lamp. Remembering the destruction from last night, Grace’s face fell. Groaning she pulled her knees to her chest, drawing her head down to become as small as possible. That little something that broke in Elara began to ache.
Before Grace could continue to agonize, Elara stood. “It’s just a lamp. I own the entire resort. One lamp is not the end of the world.”
Grace looked up with watery eyes, clearly on the verge of tears. “Really?”
Attempting to break the tension, Elara scoffed and replied, “Yes, really. I probably own thousands of identical lamps. I will call housekeeping right now to have them come sweep up this mess. Just…for the love of god, do not step on the glass. That’s the last thing we need today.”
The tears no longer welled up in Grace’s eyes as she crawled across the bed to stand on Elara’s side.
Taking a deep breath, Grace replied, “Right. It’s time to get this party started. What’s the plan?”
Relieved to no longer be on the edge of some disaster, Elara detailed what came next.
“Guests will begin to arrive by 10 a.m. We will be greeting everyone at the welcome luncheon, which is at 11:30. It’s still early, so you have plenty of time to get ready.
“Remember our discussion yesterday. Optics, image—these are everything to my family. If you want to leave a good first impression with any of the Silvers, you will need to look the part.
“I advise that for today you wear one of the neutral suits to the luncheon. Your hair should be neat and makeup minimal.”
As Elara laid out instructions for the day, the light in Grace’s eyes dimmed. Although she did not argue with Elara, Grace’s body language screamed discomfort and irritation. Elara almost began to feel bad for the intense instructions. Almost . Mostly, she was panicking about whether or not they would be able to pull this off. Stifling her guilt, Elara straightened and continued, “My family members are not the only guests expected this week. My father has invited some key investors and executives along as a chance to foster possible new deals. If you hear any business discussed, you cannot repeat that information.
“When speaking with any of these guests, I advise you to avoid the topics of politics or the economy. Enough of these guests are… passionate about debating the state of the economy and political climate. Your personal views on these matters need to appear vague and neutral if they do insist on bringing it up.
“My family also expects a certain level of respect to be shown toward them, especially my parents.”
At the mention of her parents, Grace perked up.
“Your parents, what are their names? What are they like? Are you close with them?”
Elara walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. With her hands busy and back to Grace, Elara tried to explain their dynamic.
“My father, Victor, is a brilliant man who is proud of his success and wants the same for his family. While my father was building an empire, my mother, Margaret, was ruling over hers—the family and the house. Mom is… She’s my mother. While I love my parents, I wouldn’t exactly describe our relationship as close.”
The mattress springs squeaked softly as Grace sat and sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Confused, Elara turned to Grace. “For what?”
“That you aren’t close with your parents.”
Elara bristled at Grace’s sympathy, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “It’s perfectly normal to not be close. They are important people with busy lives. I also have a busy life. There isn’t much time for calls home when you have a business to run.”
Grace slowly lifted a brow at Elara’s attempt at dismissing the conversation. The pause in the conversation was tense, and Grace crossed her arms.
Breaking the silence, Grace sighed. “What about your siblings? Anything I should know?”
Relieved that she wasn’t going to be pressed further on the dynamics, Elara dove into describing her siblings. “I have two younger siblings, James and Catherine, but she goes by Cate. They will be here with their significant others. James is much like my father, though far less…intense. Cate… Well, you and Cate would probably get along. She’s an artist. But don’t underestimate her. They need to be just as convinced we are dating as my parents.”
Elara nervously sipped her coffee, going through every way this week could go wrong in her mind. As Grace stood and crossed the room, Elara’s eyes followed her, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Grace opened the bathroom door, glanced over her shoulder, and said, “I guess I have a lot of work to do. Gotta look neat and clean and perfect for the oh-so-important Silvers.”
Elara winced as Grace closed the door behind her with a soft click.
The clean lines of Elara’s cream suit were emphasized by her sharp angles and long frame. Her fingers pressed down the lapel as she adjusted her coat for the third time. Elara couldn’t get her hands to still as she waited for Grace in the suite’s foyer. Glancing back into the mirror, she inspected her hair, making sure that not a strand was out of place.
Elara searched her own eyes, her dilated pupils making the nervousness blatant. Family get-togethers were not usually this anxiety inducing, and Elara desperately wished that this week was the same as all their past events. If she hadn’t lied about being in a relationship, hadn’t been forced into coming up with a partner just to please her parents, this week would be almost enjoyable. While nearly all of the Silver family functions ended with a few bruised egos, at least it was interesting.
Elara was a hair’s breadth away from spiraling into an anxiety attack, and she knew it. Shaking her hands, Elara took a deep breath. In, out. In, out. She was on her fourth set of deep breaths when Grace opened the door. Elara sighed in relief, but stopped as soon as she took in all that was Grace. The muted gold midi skirt and soft, silk cream blouse hugged all of Grace’s curves, revealing a hint of her shape. Her usually messy hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, with only a few unruly pieces escaping, framing her face. Elara coughed as she stood a little straighter in her heels.
Grace waved her hand, motioning to her outfit. “How do I look? Do I pass the white-glove standard of the Silver family?”
Although she sounded irritated, Elara noticed the self-conscious way Grace shifted her weight and crossed her arms, as if shielding herself.
“You look…” Elara nearly said beautiful , but caught herself. “You look nice.”
Before she could think too deeply about the thrumming behind her ribs, Elara turned on her foot and headed out of the suite.
Elara stared at the curtains, closed for privacy, and turned to Grace. “Ready?”
Grace smiled nervously and nodded. “Ready.”
Elara held out her hand, smiling reassuringly in return. Grace blinked up at her as realization dawned on her.
Grace mumbled, ”Oh, right. Holding hands.” She stumbled forward and grasped Elara’s hand. “Let’s go meet your parents.”
Elara reached over and held open the curtain for Grace to pass through. The two walked into the room, several curious eyes staring at them from across the table. Her parents stood near the head of the table, their intense gazes appraising Grace as they approached.
Elara strode over to her parents and greeted them each with a light peck on the cheek. “Mom, Dad, I’m so happy to see you arrived without a fuss.”
She took a step back and motioned to Grace. “I would like you to meet my partner, Grace.”
To everyone’s surprise, Grace surged forward and hugged Margaret. “It’s so lovely to meet you.” She then turned to Victor, drawing him into a hug and continued, “I’ve heard so much about both of you.”
Elara’s jaw dropped as she watched her parents awkwardly hug Grace back. Victor made eye contact with Elara, raising a brow in question. On the other side of the table, Cate snorted and James coughed to cover their laughs, but their eyes stayed wide with shock.
As Grace stepped back, Victor spoke to her but looked at Elara as he said, “A hug? That’s…unexpected.”
Margaret cut in, “My, how affectionate! We aren’t quite used to that, but it’s…charming. In its own way.”
Elara closed her eyes for a moment, internally cringing at her parents’ barely veiled displeasure. A warm hand landed on Elara’s shoulder, prompting her to turn and look into Grandma Elle’s curious eyes. Eleanor leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Elara’s cheek.
Grandmother Eleanor’s face lit up, clearly entertained as she said loudly, “My, my. Elara finally brought someone around to meet us. You must be very special.”
Grace blushed as she took in everyone’s odd reaction to her greeting.
Eleanor closed both her hands around Grace’s, clasping hers gently. “You must be Grace. Such a warm greeting! I like you already. I’m Eleanor, but my grandkids call me Grandma Elle. You may call me that as well.”
Relief washed over Grace’s face as she smiled warmly. “Thank you, Grandma Elle. I’m so pleased to meet the matriarch of such a wonderful family.”
Elara’s palms were slick as she nervously reached out to snag Grace’s elbow. Luckily, the catering staff entered, breaking the tension as the savory aromas drew everyone’s attention away from Elara and Grace.
Cate clapped her hands. “Lunch! Looks delicious.”
The catering staff set cups of warm squash soup at each place setting and filled the center of the table with baskets of warm bread and fresh-churned butter. The bright pop of a cork being released filled the room as champagne flutes softly clinked with each serving poured.
Elara steered the conversation to the events of the day, hoping to keep her family too busy and well fed to inquire too deeply about her “relationship.” Everyone grew quiet as they dove into the main course of sous vide chicken and asparagus with a truffle beurre blanc. Elara had chosen her mother’s favorites for this lunch, hoping to set the tone for the week. She also had chosen to start their week off with a couple’s massage for everyone, further attempting to put everyone in a good mood and hopefully steer the week in a calm and productive direction. It also served to keep everyone separate, minimizing the chance for too many questions to be asked.
As the conversation eased to a close, Elara smiled with confidence. Maybe this ruse wouldn’t be so difficult to keep up with after all.
After lunch, Elara and Grace headed to the spa for their scheduled couple’s massage. The atmosphere was designed to relax—lowlights, soothing music, and lavender oil in the air—but Elara struggled to unwind. Even as the masseuse kneaded the tension from her back and shoulders, she mentally reviewed the evening’s agenda, determined to stay one step ahead. When she glanced over at Grace, sprawled face down on the massage table, she heard soft snores. Elara smirked despite herself, a flicker of amusement breaking through her usual reserved veneer. At least one of them was enjoying this.
Back in the suite, they began getting ready for the wine tasting and formal dinner. Elara dressed in a sleek, tailored black suit, forgoing a tie but leaving the top buttons of her white shirt undone, providing a peek at the platinum bar of her necklace laying flat beneath her collarbone. The outfit felt like armor—clean, precise, and unmistakably her. She checked her reflection, smoothing a hand over her silver-streaked hair, slicked back away from her eyes.
When Grace stepped out in an emerald green dress that clung to all the right places, Elara froze for half a second. She was caught off guard by how well Grace cleaned up—soft curls framing her face, the dress accentuating her curves. Elara’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the dip of Grace’s neckline, and she had to remind herself to blink.
“Do I look okay?” Grace asked, tugging at the hem nervously.
Elara cleared her throat, her voice steady, even as something stirred low in her stomach. “You look...fine.” She turned away, hiding the fact that her cool expression betrayed just the faintest flicker of heat in her eyes.
They left the suite together, Elara’s posture stiff and collected, as if bracing against the unknown. Yet the memory of Grace’s silhouette lingered, unwelcome and distracting, as they stepped into the evening together.
The wall separating the formal dining room from the larger event space had been removed, making room for all of the evening’s guests. The open space glittered with light bouncing from the crystal chandelier and candles on the tables. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, snow slowly fell, covering every surface in a new dusting of white. The room hummed with the sounds of quiet conversations.
Elara took note of the guests who had arrived already. While this was her parents’ celebration of their fiftieth wedding anniversary, her father never passed up a chance to turn an event into a networking opportunity. The room was filled with real estate investors, private wealth clients, fund managers, and even a few of the local tourism board officials. James and his wife Julia stood with the president of the Lake Tahoe Tourism Board, clearly deep in conversation. As James caught sight of Elara and Grace’s entrance, he excused himself and headed over to greet them.
James nodded in Elara’s direction and then turned his gaze upon Grace. “You’ve got your hands full with Elara, don’t you? Did she even go to your couple’s massage?” With a chuckle, he grasped Elara’s shoulder. “This one needs to loosen up a bit more.”
Elara bristled, prepared to make a jab back at James, but paused when Grace’s face broke into a genuine smile as she laughed at his good-natured teasing.
“She certainly did go to the massage with me. Although she could’ve slipped out without me noticing. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep five minutes in.”
James’s face broke into a beaming smile, laughing as he turned his gaze back to Elara. “Come join Julia and I for the wine tasting. I know my wife is excited to meet you, Grace.”
Before James could corral Grace into the family corner, Elara grabbed her hand, stopping her from following.
“We’ll join you in a bit. There are a few people I must say hello to first.”
James took note of the brisk tone in Elara’s voice and the way she grasped Grace’s hand. His smile began to slip before a knowing look passed over his face.
“You can’t avoid the family all night, Elara.” James turned back to Grace, continuing, “Grace, I’m sure Elara’s told you about the family dinner tradition. It’s always…quite the spectacle. I look forward to seeing more of you two tonight.”
Before James could rile her up any further, Elara turned on her heel, dragging Grace along toward the nearest business associate. Every few minutes, Elara would feel the pressure of her family’s scrutiny, noticing their curious eyes watch her every move. Grace’s every move.
The dinner was served on elegant tables, each course paired with a wine that the sommelier described the tasting notes and how it paired with their meal. After the third course, many of the guests were tipsy, the conversation ebbing and flowing with ease. Not usually one to drink, Elara drained her glass, grateful for the warmth that eased the tension of the evening. She was feeling rather confident, having tactfully avoided questions about her relationship and kept her family entertained and distracted. After dessert was served, Elara began to make excuses for her and Grace to head to bed.
As she held her hand out to Grace in an attempt to help her up, Grandma Elle piped up. “I see the happy new couple is eager to snuggle and warm up on this snowy evening.”
Although her words teased a blush out of Grace, Elara could see the mischievous glint in her eyes and her cunning grin. Elara stiffened, fearing Grandma Elle was suspicious, but not knowing how to convince her. Unable to find words that would suffice, Elara simply began to usher Grace out of the room.
The sound of a chair scraping and the quick clacking of heels signaled Cate’s quick attempt to follow Elara out of the room. Before she could make it to the hallway, Cate reached out and grabbed Elara’s elbow. But instead of stopping, she pulled them farther out of the dining area.
Cate whispered in Elara’s ear, “Don’t worry about Granny. You need to relax. She’s just teasing. We all just want to make sure you’re happy.” Turning to Grace, Cate raised her voice enough to be heard only by the two. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace. Don’t let the family scare you too much.”
With that, Cate retreated back to the dining room. Elara and Grace stood still as they watched her disappear behind the luxurious curtains. The two stood frozen for a moment before Grace cleared her throat. “Well, that was interesting.”
Elara closed off her panic, returning to her cool composure, as she quietly walked away. Grace’s footsteps unevenly clipped as she rushed to catch up. Elara turned to watch Grace stumble forward. Realization dawned on her—Grace was drunk.
Raising her eyebrow, Elara pressed the elevator button. “Not much of a wine drinker?”
Grace swayed as she looked up into Elara’s eyes and giggled. “That obvious, huh? Do you think anyone else noticed?”
Elara shot out her hand to steady Grace and guided her into the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, she coolly responded, “Hopefully not. Everyone in there was tipsy anyway.”
Grace leaned back against the mirrored elevator wall and nodded.
Elara watched as Grace stumbled through the suite toward her suitcase and began rifling through for pajamas. After ensuring Grace wouldn’t fall, Elara escaped to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
In another pair of her favorite silk pajamas, Elara stared at her reflection, assessing her freshly scrubbed face. A sharp series of knocks on the door interrupted her introspection. Elara opened the door to see Grace leaning in the doorway, wearing nothing but a band t-shirt that barely covered her ass. Saying nothing, Elara moved aside to let Grace pass and closed the door behind her.
Elara shook her head as if she could shake the racing thoughts out of her mind. Unable to bear the thought of seeing Grace’s bare legs again, Elara turned all but one lamp off and then strode over to the foyer and opened the bar cabinet in search of a drink. Thankfully, the bar was stocked with her favorite whiskey. In the dark, Elara poured herself two knuckles’ worth into the crystal glass and dropped a large square ice cube in with it. Irritation filled her veins with a fiery sensation, warming the back of her neck. At the sound of Grace scrambling into bed, Elara slumped into a chair. She silently sipped on her whiskey for an hour in the dark, grasping at her cool, calm composure, looking for it at the bottom of her glass.
Eventually, Elara turned off the sole lamp and felt her way toward the bed. Finding her side of the bed without too much of a struggle, Elara slipped under the covers as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Grace. Unable to get comfortable, Elara tossed and turned in her sleep. In one of her more clumsy attempts at tossing, Elara turned toward Grace, her arm flopping over.
She expected her hand to land on the space between them, but to her surprise, Grace had turned toward her and, in her sleep, inched closer to Elara. Elara found her hand on Grace’s hip, which woke Grace in turn. The two said nothing in the dark silence, but Elara felt like she was burning from the inside out. She was inches away from the hem of the old t-shirt. It would be so easy to run her hands down Grace’s thighs. So easy to pull that hem up above her belly button.
Elara stared at the way her hand seemed to mold to Grace’s curves. In the dark, she could hear Grace’s sharp inhale. Realizing what she was doing, Elara snatched her hand back with a mumbled apology. She quickly turned away before Grace could say anything.
Elara stared out the window as she wished for sleep to take her away from this embarrassing moment. All she could think was What am I doing? She scolded herself for getting caught up in the moment. This was all just an act. Grace was here because she was being paid to be there. She couldn’t risk everything falling apart.
Sleep slowly overtook Elara as she silently chanted it’s not real, as if she were counting sheep.