Page 51 of Cross My Heart
I nod. It doesn’t contradict anything in my official backstory, and it’s a relief to finally be talking about something I know, instead of bluffing through studies and lectures.
“I did some work with an arts organization, back in the States,” I tell him. “It was a great project, but the board had very particular ideas about fundraising. Lots of fancy thousand-dollar a plate dinners and gala events that cost almost as much to host as what they brought in,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I mean, I get that it’s all PR, getting word out, but we wound up wasting so much money on those red-carpet events, it could have been better spent on our programs. Do you do any fundraising?” I ask, and Hugh grins.
“Sometimes. Mainly fancy dinners and gala events,” he replies.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I reply, blushing. I’m really on a roll here when it comes to insulting my hosts.But Hugh just chuckles good-naturedly.
“No, I agree, it’s a real challenge. The big donors like to be wined and dined, get their photos in the society pages.”
“Because if someone writes a check, and nobody’s there to see it, did they even donate at all?” I quip. Saint laughs along with us—and then stiffens at my side as we’re joined by a distinguished-looking couple.
“There you are,” the woman coolly kisses Saint on the cheek. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make an appearance.”
“I was told my attendance was mandatory,” Saint replies dryly, but there’s a new edge of tension in his voice. Which begins to make sense, when he places a hand around my waist, and introduces me.
“Mother, father, this is Tessa. Tessa, my parents, Alexander and Lillian St. Clair.”
His parents.OK.
“It’s great to meet you,” I say, managing a big smile, as I take them in. Saint’s mother, Lillian, is a tall, aristocratic blonde with elegantly graying hair, wearing a conservative shift dress and cream Chanel jacket. Tasteful diamonds twinkle at her throat and wrists, and she gives me a cool, assessing smile as she politely shakes my hand.
“Well, look at this,” His father says jovially, greeting me with more enthusiasm. He’s like an older, slightly paunchier version of Robert, with the same ruddy complexion and broad smile. “Finally, we get to meet one of Saint’s lady friends.”
“Dad...” Saint tries to interrupt, but Anthony Sr. just chortles.
“No no, don’t worry, I’m not going to interrogate the girl. He’s secretive, this one,’ he adds, giving me a confidential wink. “Usually, I just have to read about it in the papers.”
“So, what brings you to Oxford?” Lillian says. “I assume you’re one of Saint’s students?”
Excuse me? I blink at the subtle burn.
“Tessa is in the graduate studies program at Ashford,” Saint answers for me. “She’s keeping me on my toes.”
“Clearly.” Lillian’s response is dry, and again, just on the right side of insulting.
Saint narrows his eyes. “Actually, she’s the reason I’m here tonight at all. I would have ditched the whole thing, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Well…” His father looks back and forth between us all, finally clocking his wife’s cool tone. “Then you have our thanks, Tessa. We don’t see Saint often enough, with him staying up in Oxford. Maybe we’ll see you down in London soon. The both of you.”
Lillian doesn’t look thrilled with that plan. “We should go say hello to the Davenports,” she says, tugging on Alexander’s arm. “Lovely to meet you,” she adds faintly, before steering him away.
I exhale.
Saint sees. “Yeah, they have that effect on people.”
“No, I didn’t mean—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a kiss.
“I need a drink, how about you?” he asks, and I nod immediately.
“Yes, please!”
Chapter15
Saint
“… Now, when are you going to knuckle down, and join the family business?”
One of my parents’ friends chuckles over his champagne, and I try not to scowl.