Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
S askia had to admit that the birthday party, held at Dane Harrington’s luxurious Napa resort, was a tad overwhelming.
The Mavericks had taken over a large ballroom that opened onto a patio outside.
Dane and Cammie had done wonders with the decorations.
Banners stretched across the walls, streamers hung from the ceiling, and confetti sprinkled the tables.
Clay hadn’t introduced her to everyone yet, though he had pointed out most of the Mavericks and the Harringtons. There were just so many of them. With the kids’ birthdays, not to mention the babies, she wasn’t sure she’d remember all their names.
As Clay wrapped his hand around hers, she named them off in her head.
Noah and Jorge were the eldest, both eight years old.
Noah was Matt Tremont’s son, and Matt was married to Ari, who was Gideon Jones’s sister.
They had a nine-month-old, Penelope. Jorge belonged to Gideon and Rosie.
Okay, got that. Then there were the twins, Keegan and…
Savannah, that was it. A year old, the twins belonged to Evan and Paige Collins.
Okay, check. Twins clearly ran in the family, as Evan’s younger siblings, Tony and Kelsey, were also twins.
Dylan practically bounced over to them, dragging Gideon Jones with him. “Gideon, this is Saskia. She’s actually San Holo.” The fan-boy gleam in his eyes lit up his whole face.
The big man stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Saskia San Holo.” He was tall, blond, and as handsome as all the Mavericks and Harringtons.
“Just call me Saskia.” She smiled. “I’ve heard all about your foundation. It sounds amazing.”
Gideon actually blushed.
Dylan jumped in. “I haven’t seen you for days, Gideon. So much has happened. I got totally trashed,” he said as if it were a badge of honor. “But I handled it.” His chest seemed to puff out. “Now I’m an even better artist. Saskia says so.”
“He truly is,” she agreed, glad he called her Saskia rather than San Holo. Saskia was her true self.
Clay squeezed her hand as if he’d read her thoughts.
“Thank you for all you’re doing to help Dylan.” Gideon ruffled the young man’s hair affectionately. “I’ve always known he was brilliant.”
“I absolutely second that.” She looked at Clay, her heart wanting to burst into song. “So does Clay.”
Dylan dragged Gideon away, heading for Rosie, Gideon’s beautiful wife who was holding their nine-month-old daughter Isabella. Wow! She’d remembered two more names.
Appearing out of nowhere, Adrian hugged her, whispering, “Are you okay after the vampires’ visit yesterday?”
Saskia hugged her back, holding on. “I’m perfect. And you’re the best.” Saskia was so glad Clay had thought to invite Adrian.
They smiled together as only two best friends could. “Back at ya. And this is your coming-out party, my darling.”
“I had that at Hugo’s press conference,” Saskia said dryly.
Adrian wagged her finger. “But y ou weren’t there.” She looked pointedly at the birthday boys and girl. “They think it’s their party. But it’s really yours.”
Gareth stood beside her. Though they didn’t hold hands, there was something. Attraction, maybe? With that gleam in Adrian’s eye when she looked at him, oh yes, something had happened. Saskia couldn’t be happier.
Clay and Gareth man-hugged with backslaps. Then Clay hugged Adrian. “We’re glad you made it.”
It really was like family, just as Clay had said.
Then Adrian waved at one of the Mavericks. “Cal Danniger,” she said, sotto voce.
The man headed over with Lyssa Spencer, who had their baby boy on her hip. Saskia knew Cal was a fan of her work, but her heart jumped into her throat, as though this might be a confrontation, especially since they were trailed by so many Maverick ladies. She suddenly felt spotlighted.
Clay snaked his arm across her back. Fortification.
Cal hugged Adrian, since they’d had so many dealings together.
Then he simply stared at Saskia for an excruciating moment, his face flushed, before he stuck out his hand. “It’s great to meet you. I’m Cal Danniger. I—I?—”
His beautiful wife Lyssa, youngest daughter of Susan and Bob Spencer, the Maverick matriarch and patriarch, stepped in for him. “He’s trying to say he loves your work. We’ve got several of your prints, even some canvases.”
Kelsey Collins, Evan’s younger sister, said in a high voice, “Will you look at that? Cal is tongue-tied. That’s so adorable.” Her laughter ran through the crowd of ladies around them.
Cal collected himself and said, almost smoothly, “I saw your mural in the graffiti tunnel in London—” He scratched his temple. “Oh… about eighteen months ago.”
Lyssa gazed at him with adoration. “You know exactly how long ago it was, my darling.” With the way they smiled at each other, Saskia was sure there was a story there.
“I’ve been following your art ever since,” Cal said. “Your new piece in the Mission District is incredible.”
Saskia felt a sweet thrill, almost as good as the thrill she got when Clay touched her. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
He jutted his chin at Clay. “This guy told me that you’re both San Holo and Lynx.”
Last night, Cal and Clay had talked over the ramifications of Hugo’s press conference. Clay had told him how they planned to take care of Hugo.
“Now it makes perfect sense,” Cal went on, “why Lynx’s work took a sudden nosedive five years ago. I have a Lynx print from the old days.” He blushed. “Would you show me where the lynx is?”
She felt as if she were standing on top of The Shard, London’s tallest building. She finally had the recognition she’d always sought. The Mavericks seemed to hang on her every word, and yet, she was quaking inside.
Was this how it would feel when she came out to the press and took Hugo on? Could she handle that?
With Clay’s support, she knew she could. “Certainly, I’ll show you,” she said, beaming at Cal. “Which canvas do you have?”
The talk went on from there, her anxiety lessening as the minutes ticked by. Eventually, the ladies around them dispersed, mostly because the three babies were fidgeting.
With that break in the crowd, a little woman pushing a walker decorated with streamers and spangles wheeled her way over. “My dear, I just had to meet you. Charlie has talked so much about your art.”
Clay made the introductions. “This is Francine, Charlie Ballard’s mother.”
Saskia bent down to shake the woman’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Francine.”
Charlie Ballard joined them, a beautiful woman with fiery curls, her hand engulfed in that of Sebastian Montgomery, another tall, handsome Maverick.
Charlie hugged her. “I can’t believe I actually get to meet the real San Holo.”
Saskia laughed. “I can’t believe I actually get to meet the real Charlie Ballard.” Then she prattled like a superfan. “ The Discus Thrower is out of this world. I’ve never seen anything so exactly perfect for a space.”
Charlie seemed to beam. Saskia was sure she was beaming too. Then she turned to Sebastian. “You’re an amazing artist in your own right. I’ve seen your drawings. They’re brilliant.”
He smiled almost shyly. “Thank you. But Charlie’s the real star.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
Saskia thought they were shining stars together.
As the party went on, the warmth of the Maverick-and-Harrington clan filled her up. Each and every one made an effort to meet her, to welcome her, to bring her into their fold. These two groups had become one big, close-knit family.
She’d been afraid Clay’s brothers and sisters might be more wary of her, but they surrounded her with good cheer.
Her anxiety faded when his brother Troy, a couple of years older than Clay, drawled, “Thank God we were able to talk Clay off the ledge at the family mastermind.”
His older sister Ava nudged him in the ribs. “He was almost there on his own,” she admonished. The beautiful, statuesque redhead tucked her hand into the crook of Ransom Yates’s elbow. Older than most of the Harringtons, Ava’s beau was still ruggedly good-looking.
Troy, tall, dark, and handsome like all his brothers, looked down his nose at Ava, a glint of humor in his eyes.
He snorted. “He was so far from seeing the light.” Then he turned to Saskia.
“I give you all the credit for getting Clay to understand that criticism can be good for anyone endeavoring to reach a big goal. Like diving. If the coaches hadn’t critiqued my every move and suggested ways I could do things better, I never would have made it to the Olympics.
” He threw an arm around Clay’s neck, drawing him in for a brotherly hug.
“I’m proud of you, little brother, for providing tools to handle the rigors of the artistic life.
Your guest lecturers and workshops sound remarkable. ”
Clay ran his hand down Saskia’s back. “I never would’ve thought of them without Saskia.” He pulled her close to kiss her sweetly in front of his family. “Thank you for making me see.”
She wanted to melt against him in a puddle of goo.
Susan Spencer stepped into the group. “I hate to break up this wonderful conversation, but I’d love to whisk Saskia away for a heart-to-heart.
” After the nods and smiles, as if they’d all had their own heart-to-hearts with Susan, she looped her arm through Saskia’s and drew her away. “I hope you don’t mind, dear.”
Susan was a lovely woman, somewhere in her fifties, wearing her beautiful cap of silver hair like a crown.
She deserved a crown after raising all these wonderful Mavericks.
Except for Daniel and Lyssa, they weren’t her natural children, but she had taken them into her care when they were preteens—taught them, supported them, admired them.
Saskia recognized the love shining out of her eyes as she looked at each of her boys.
“We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.” She patted Saskia’s arm. “We’re just so glad you’ve become one of us.”
Though Saskia wanted to gush, she toned it down. “You all make me feel like I am one of you, even though Clay and I have only been dating for a couple of weeks.”
Susan wagged a finger. “It isn’t the length of time. It’s the depth. The connection I see flowing between the two of you is unbreakable.”
“Thank you,” Saskia said in a small voice, tears pricking her eyes. “That means so much to me.” Susan would never know how much. They were the words of approval she’d wished for from her own mother.
“I must confess…” Susan bumped her shoulder lightly.
“Even though I have so many creative people in my family, I hadn’t been aware of your art before.
But when I heard the other day that you were coming to the party, I had to look you up.
I was overcome by the beauty and feeling imbued in your work.
I’m so glad you decided to tell the world who you are. ”
If only her father, or especially her mother, had spoken of her work like that yesterday, instead of going directly to the money. If only they’d welcomed her as Susan Spencer had, as all the Mavericks and Harringtons had, Saskia would have opened her arms to them.
Susan was the wise woman of the Mavericks. Just as Fernsby knew when to say the perfect thing, Susan seemed to know just the right thing to help a person find his or her path.
Impulsively, she hugged the Maverick matriarch. “Thank you so much. Honestly, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
Susan feathered the hair back from Saskia’s face. “I only say what I believe, my dear.”
That made Susan’s words all the more heartwarming and accepting.