Page 96 of Ink & Desire
“I miss you, too,” I say.
She pulls back and studies my face. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks. “No headaches, right?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. No headaches. No blurred vision. No dizziness. No balance issues.”
She smiles ruefully. “I’m sorry, honey. You know I worry too much.”
“I know. But I really am fine. I promise.”
She nods. “Good.” She turns and puts an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward her room. “You’re healthy. But are you happy?”
I open my mouth to give her the automatic reply I always give her, but the word lodges in my throat. Mom turns to look at me, concern etched on her face.
“What is it, honey? Does it have anything to do with your missing guest?”
Sighing, I nod. “Yeah.”
She eyes me for a long moment. “A boy?”
I almost laugh at the idea of referring to Corbin as a boy. “More like a man, Mom.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “They’re all boys,” she says. “No matter how old they get, some part of them will never grow up. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does make loving them difficult sometimes.”
“Was Dad like that?” I ask.
Her expression goes soft and dreamy, and for a moment she looks so much younger than her 58 years that I’m struck speechless.
“Your father,” she says. “He was a good man.” She shakes her head, smiling wistfully. “But my god, he never did grow up. Used to drive me crazy.”
I try to remember my Dad the way she describes him, but all I remember is a larger-than-life man who loved to laugh. He was tall, with a trim figure but shoulders broad enough to let me sit on them so I could pretend to fly when I was six.
“I miss him,” I say.
“Me, too.”
She takes a deep breath and her smile firms up a little. “If that boy is too dumb to know what he’s missing, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
She smooths her thumb lightly over the puffy circles under my eyes. “I’ve got an eye mask that’ll fix that right up,” she say softly. “Take a nap and a bubble bath and forget all about him for the next 24 hours. Mom’s orders.”
I stupidly feel like crying again, so I drop my head onto her shoulder and let her hold me for a moment like she did when I was little.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say. “I think this one’s going to take more than a day to recover from, but I’ll be okay. Eventually.”
“I know you will,” she says. “You’re a Bradshaw woman. We’re tough.”
Chapter 38
Corbin
Getting into the Bradshaw Gala was easier than I expected. It turned out that Henley just needed to call one of her partners and they were happy to make a charitable donation to get her name on the list, along with a plus one. I don’t know what I expected from a charity gala, but this thing is bigger and more glamorous than anything I’ve ever been to. I’ve tattooed severalrock stars and even a few A-list actors, but some of the faces here tonight have me starstruck. I do my best to stick close to Henley and not make a fool of myself.
I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of Avery, but I haven’t seen her yet. Henley is totally in her element tonight, smiling and shaking hands with everyone she meets. I’m in awe of how natural she looks among all of New York’s wealthy elite. Even with my worry over everything with Avery, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride when I look at the woman my sister has grown into. She’s wearing a glittery, navy, floor-length gown with a plunging neckline that I would have vetoed if given the option. I’d asked her how she managed to get a formal gown so quickly, but she’d just laughed at me like it was a ridiculous question. I don’t think I’ll ever understand women.
By the time we’re seated at a table filled with a bunch of rich strangers and dinner is being served by people in white tuxedos, my nerves are shot. I still haven’t seen Avery. Her family is hosting this thing, right? You’d think she would be front and center. My tie feels like it’s choking me, and I’m sweating through my fancy dress-shirt.
“Do you see her?” I ask in a low voice.
“Not since you asked me thirty-two seconds ago,” Henley says through gritted teeth and a forced smile. “Stop fidgeting and eat your dinner.”