CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CECI
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ceci
You’ve got to be kidding,” Ceci exclaimed as she stared at the ballroom while standing alongside Clarke’s brothers.
“Didn’t Leo tell you there’d be dancing after dinner?” Porthos asked.
“Yes, but I thought he meant someone would put on the sound system and people would just dance. I don’t know, maybe in that room we sat in when I first arrived.”
Aramis frowned. “The drawing room? We need a lot of space.” He slapped Porthos on the back. “Otherwise this guy could do some serious damage.”
Shaking off his hand, Porthos frowned while the rest of them laughed.
Ceci surveyed the room and spotted Clarke almost immediately. He was standing and chatting with three older women about the same age as Aunt Delilah.
Aramis grinned. “Leo always gets stuck charming the old dames. I bet one of them snagged him the minute he set foot in here.”
“Too much of a gentleman,” said Athos.
“Too nice,” agreed Porthos.
Too much of a gentleman and too nice doesn’t look too bad on Leo the lionhearted.
Their eyes met, and her breath suddenly came to an abrupt halt as if snagged on that gaze. She watched him unsuccessfully try to disengage himself. She could see he was frustrated, but there was something else. A hungry look in his eye.
She hadn’t had a moment alone with him except for that brief one just before the skeet shooting. During dinner, they were seated at opposite ends of the table. They had yet to talk about her being here—uninvited.
Suddenly her phone buzzed. She blinked when she looked at the caller ID.
Father? Calling me? Again? So soon?
Spying some French doors, she quickly excused herself, ran over, opened them, and stepped out onto a small balcony.
“Dad?”
His voice was cold. “I want the truth. Are you or are you not dating Leo Clarke?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Is your relationship real, or is it part of some scheme?”
Her lips parted but no words came out.
“I’d heard the rumors, but when he showed up for Timmy’s birthday and behaved the way he did, I thought the rumors were just unfounded gossip. But now I’ve just heard from a reliable source that those rumors may in fact be true. So you tell me, are you or are you not in a real relationship?”
She swallowed. “Well it—um—”
“Can I expect to see him at the Cape after this season is over?”
She drew one shuddered breath and released it. “No,” she heard herself say in a voice so small she didn’t recognize it as her own.
“Of course not. So it’s just some stupid PR stunt. Do you never consider the consequences of your disgraceful behavior? To bring him to my house, make a public display, make me a part of this.”
Her mouth was open, but the words wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter anyway, he wouldn’t hear them if they did. He’d already hung up.
Ceci leaned against the banister.
Why didn’t you tell him to go fuck himself? You didn’t even want to drive for one of his teams. Not at first. Not really. Why did you let yourself hope … think …?
I’m surprised he believed even for a second that a man like Leo Clarke would be interested in me.
Suddenly she heard the opening strains of “Moon River.”
And the hits just keep on coming.
She felt the tears rising.
You will not let that asshole bring you to tears. “Moon River” or not.
Deep breaths, she kept telling herself. Deep breaths.
But the breathing didn’t help. Nor did willing those tears down.
She turned her back to the ballroom, shivering as she gazed at the black, starless sky.
It was cold. But she’d have to wait. Wait until she could be sure she could walk back through that ballroom with dry eyes.
She heard the click of the door behind her.
“Ceci.”
Clarke. Not now.
She wouldn’t turn around. She couldn’t.
He came up behind her. Suddenly his head loomed over her shoulder. He placed his hand under her chin, lifted her face, and one tear ran down her cheek.
“Shit,” she said, pulling her chin free and dropping it to her chest.
And I don’t have any tissues with me.
He checked his pockets. “Damn it,” she heard him mutter. “I can’t believe I don’t have a handkerchief on me.”
Even though tears were flooding her cheeks, she couldn’t stop a weak grin.
Sir Stick without a handkerchief? I can’t believe it either.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around, took her phone, and slipped it in his pocket. Then he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her and placing one hand on her head, holding her cheek to his chest.
“Your shirt’s going to be ruined,” she mumbled, with her mouth flattened up against him. “I’m wearing mascara.”
“That’s okay. I’ve never cared for it. I was going to throw it out anyways.”
She made an effort to chuckle, but it came out like a choked sob. “No, you weren’t.”
“Well, it was either that or burn it. Go ahead, you can even rub snot on it if you want.”
Snot on Sir Stick Up His Ass’s shirt? Not possible. But then a lot of things that seemed not possible with this guy had turned out—to be possible.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Did she? If someone had asked her before he’d come out onto the balcony, she would have said no. But now, she felt different. She waited a moment for her sobbing to subside and her breathing to steady.
“It’s my father,” she managed. “I thought he wanted me to drive for one of his teams.” She paused. “He acted like he wanted me to. But he only did it because of you.”
“Me?”
“He likes the idea of you and loves the idea of having you around. I guess you put on such a convincing performance when you went to his house for Timmy’s birthday, he thought this thing between us was real.
And so, he figured if I was around, that meant you’d be around.
But now he knows it’s a PR stunt that will end when the season ends. ”
She pushed, freeing herself from his grasp, but still kept her head down. She rubbed her eyes and noticed the black streaks on her hands, not to mention his shirt.
“It’s stupid to cry. It’s just a stupid song. I don’t even know what the fuck it’s about.”
“‘Moon River’?”
“Yeah. Do you know?”
“It’s about two drifters. To me, that’s two people who haven’t found their way yet. They’re not really grounded. And they’re looking for …”
“What? The rainbow’s end? There is no such thing.
A rainbow is just light that bends because it’s passing through water.
It isn’t even an arc or half a circle that’s rising from the ground, it’s a full circle.
The other half is hidden below the horizon.
So we can’t see it. There’s no end in a circle. No rainbow’s end.”
“Maybe that’s the point. It’s not about finding it. It’s about what you find while looking for it. Something you didn’t even know you were looking for. Maybe something or someone who was there all the time, you just didn’t realize it.”
“What? The huckleberry friend? Who is that? Huck Finn?”
Clarke chuckled. “There’s an expression. It comes from your country, back in the 1800s. If someone said they were your huckleberry, it meant you could count on them. They’d be there no matter what. It’s like someone today saying, ‘I’m your man.’”
The tears came back, as did the choked sobbing.
“I can’t—”
He pulled her to him. “Come dance.”
She tried to pull away, but he held her firm. And almost before she could blink, they’d left the balcony and were in the ballroom, turning circles with the other couples.
“I’m sorry I came,” she murmured.
“You are?”
“I shouldn’t have shown up like I did. You didn’t ask me to come. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
“No. My father and brothers love you. And … my father and I talked in a way we haven’t in a long time. It was good. It’s like something has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel a little lighter, and it’s because of you.”
Me?
He sighed. “You came to my rescue. Again. You know, you do that a lot.”
“I also do you bodily harm. A lot.”
He laughed. “That too. But everything comes at a price.”
She felt his heart beating against her cheek.
“He’s got what he always wanted,” she mumbled into his chest.
“Who?”
“My dad. He has a son.”
They continued to sway slowly to the music.
“Aunt Delilah told me you had a twin brother but he died.”
“He didn’t die. He was never born.”
The tears had gone through his shirt and were being mopped up by his chest.
She swallowed. “One day he was there on the ultrasound. And then—he wasn’t. They call it vanishing twin syndrome. No one knows what happened to him. He was either absorbed by me or he just … disappeared.”
Clarke said nothing.
Ceci was grateful he didn’t try to fill the silence. And still, she couldn’t stop the tears.
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this—”
“No one will.”
“They will once the dance is over. I can’t hide my face in your chest forever.”
“I’m steering us to the other end of the room. When we get there, we’ll duck out onto the terrace, and then you can go to your room via the back stairs. I’ll show you. No one will see you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Her breath caught on one final sob.
She listened to the melody she knew too well.
Who wouldn’t love “Moon River”? Signature song of the film Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
It was her mother’s favorite song. Aunt Delilah told her she’d played it on a loop when she was giving birth. Until things went wrong.
Ceci felt the force of Clarke’s breath against her cheek. It sounded like wind held captive by steel. She shut her eyes, and an image of the Man in the Iron Mask imprisoned and behind bars flashed before her.
And then he spoke.
His words slipped between those bars and shot straight to her heart.
“We’re almost there, Ceci. Don’t worry. I’ll be your huckleberry.”