"That's him," I answer steadily.
"How do you know him?" He glances at a couple standing near us. "Did he come to watch the performance? Are you his date?"
I study his face, wondering if anywhere beneath that impenetrable expression, there's a hint of jealousy. I can't see it. I can't imagine it either. He's so gorgeous and in control. He could approach virtually any woman in this room and have her naked, and on her kne
es, within five minutes.
"Davis is gay," I shoot back. "We met when I lived in Chicago. We've been friends since."
A small grin flows over his lips. "I was mistaken."
"Apparently." I half-shrug. "How's Cicely?"
"Cicely? Your manager?"
I don't need him to remind me that I answer to her. Tonight is an escape from the boutique. It's a chance for me to be who I really am. I don't want to think about tomorrow when I have to go back to work and face Cicely again.
"Your date," I counter.
He cocks his left brow. "The misunderstandings are mutual, Ms. Lane. I'm here alone."
"Cicely said she had plans with you, I just assumed…" I begin before I catch sight of her approaching from the right. "I assumed you two came together."
He turns his head towards her. "I'm not here with her, or anyone, for that matter. She's one of a group of employees we invited."
I shouldn't care that she's not dating him. It shouldn't matter to me that he's here, in this room, staring at me, but it does.
"I want to apologize for what happened at the boutique." He reaches forward as if he's going to touch my hand, but then he pulls his back. "I didn't have all the facts when Cicely called me. If I had, I never would have questioned you."
"I gave you my word that I wouldn't break the rules. I don't break my word, Mr. Foster."
"Isla, there you are." I feel a hand on my shoulder just as I hear Davis say my name. "It's time. We need to go."
I suck in a deep breath, sorry that this moment has to end. "It was nice to see you, sir. I hope you enjoy your evening."
"I will, Isla." His eyes lock on mine. "I most certainly will."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gabriel
"We need to mingle, Gabriel." My mother pulls on my forearm. "That's what we came here for."
I don’t remember what I came here for. All I can remember is the way Isla looked at me when she questioned me about Cicely. There was an invitation woven into her eye's response when I told her I was alone. Her body backed that up when I glanced down to see the outline of her swollen nipples beneath the silk of the dress she's wearing.
She'd walked away from me without a turn back. It only upped my desire for her. She may think she's coy but I felt it. I felt the palpable tension between us.
"There's a string quartet playing in the atrium. I want to see that before we go into the concert hall."
Denying my mother anything at this point is only going to result in a temper tantrum to rival a child's. I came here to further the profile of Foster Enterprises so I'm committed to doing that even if my body is craving a taste of Isla.
"You go ahead." I gesture towards the entrance to the atrium. "I need a drink."
"Fine." My mother runs her finger along my chin. "I don't like this bristle, by the way. You need to shave that."
I nod. I'll allow her to continue to think that her opinion weighs heavily on me. It doesn't anymore. My mother's influence is restricted to a constant reminder of the type of woman I don't want to become involved with.
I love my mother endlessly but her insecurities are exhausting. I've been witness to her self-doubt and the consequences of that my entire life.