He studied me intensely. His tongue traced a path across his bottom lip, and my eyes flicked there before I could stop them. He smirked.
“Mr. Stone?” a voice asked from behind the curtain.
“Yes?”
“Your father is asking for you, sir.”
“Tell him we’ll be there momentarily.”
“Of course.”
George looked at me again and reached a hand across the table. His fingers curled around mine, sending jolts up my arm. “Gina, you don’t have to do this. You have a working name for a reason. I won’t ask you to jeopardize that for me.”
I slid my hand from his and stood, smoothing out my dress. “You hired me to do this job, and I’m going to do it. Besides, I can’t have you being eaten alive by the vultures, can I? Huh!”
His eyes lit up when his smirk turned dangerously sexy. “Very true.”
He stood, and for the first time since I walked in the booth, I took note of how he looked. His black-and-white suit was perfectly tailored to the body that was bulked out since I last saw it, the jacket stretching across broad shoulders and tucking in at his waist. Dark hair curled against the collar of his white shirt and framed his face perfectly.
George Stone cut a damn fine figure in that suit.
His hand rested on my lower back as he led me towards the elevator, and boy am I glad I passed right on over the backless dress in my closet. I was not sure I could deal with such intimate skin-on-skin contact with this man without being swamped by the past. God knows I could barely breathe through it as it was.
My back straightened a little more each minute his hand was resting there. I took a deep breath and reminded myself to act as Christy would. I had to be Christg. I had to be unaffected yet believable.
The elevator doors opened and George closed them again. I looked up at him, frowning.
“What are you doing?”
“Gina.” He pushed some hair back from my face, looking at me almost tenderly.
I swiped his hand away. “Standing in an elevator isn’t going to change the fact I have a job to do, George. Can we get on with this?”
He sighed, following it with a small smile. “Fine. But what do I tell my parents when they inevitably recognize the girl who stole me for the duration of our vacation seven years ago?”
Shit. I didn’t think of that. “You let me think of that, Okay George it's my job.”
The doors opened again and we walked toward the ballroom.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
“Shut up and open the damn door for me.”
I heard his quiet laugh before he opened the door. Men in suits and women dressed in expensive dresses filled the buzzing room. The bar took up one corner and tables lined the walls, leaving the main floor free.
As I was standing there in the doorway, surrounded by Seattle’s elite, it was so very easy to see why this was the top hotel in Seattle. The room reeked of money and class.
George led me inside, and almost immediately his parents appeared in front of us. His mom looked the same as she did back then—perfect brown hair without a grey in sight and flawless skin any woman would be jealous of. Her blue eyes, the same as George ’s, surveyed me before widening slightly.
“Well I never thought of it. Gina McCartney?” She placed a hand on her chest.
I smiled. “It’s lovely to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”
“I don’t believe this is the little teenager who had our son performing disappearing acts for weeks on end.” Mr. Stone beamed at me.
“I plead the Fifth. He acted of his own accord.” I returned his smile and he laughed. He leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek, George’s mom doing the same.
“And none of this Mr. and Mrs. stuff. Brad and Cathy,” he insisted. “Can we get you a drink?”
“A bottle of wine would be great, Dad,” George answered.
“George, darling, why didn’t you tell us you were bringing Gina?” Cathy questioned him as we walked toward the bar.
“Yeah, about that,” he replied uncertainly. I tried not to roll my eyes.
“We ran into each other a few weeks ago,” I cut in. “Completely by chance. I think both of us were really shocked, right, George?”
He struggled to keep a straight face. “Right.”
“We’ve been out for drinks a couple of times. Catching up, you know? Then this afternoon he calls me out of the blue and tells me he needs a date for tonight. And well, how could I say no to this face?” I rose my eyebrows and brushed my thumb across his jaw, giving him a fond smile.
“You didn’t say you’d seen her!” Cathy tapped his bicep.
“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to, Mom.”
“Well it would have been nice to know she was still in Seattle and you were back in contact.”
“We’ve only seen each other a few times.”
“Stop grilling him, Cathy. He’s a grown man now. Let him have his secrets.” Brad placed a bottle of wine and four glasses in front of us then poured. “Well, it sure is a lovely surprise, Gina. How are your parents?”
Be Christy. Be Christy. Be Christy.
“They, uh… They actually passed away five years ago.” I looked down, feeling the same sting that always accompanied the mention of them. George’s hand crept across my back to my waist. He stepped slightly closer to me and I took comfort in the gesture.
“I’m so sorry.” His dad toom my hand briefly. “That must have been terrible so young.”
I nodded and took a deep breath. “Yes, but my aunt Leila was there for me. I got through it eventually.”
George squeezed me gently. “Mom, Dad, I think Mr. Wayne is trying to get your attention.”
Cathy turned. “Of course. Brad.”
He stepped up, she linked her hand through his elbow, and they headed in the direction of the guy who was waving at us.
I sighed deeply and sipped my wine, using all the restraint I had. I doubted chugging would be acceptable.
“Thank you,” I said softly to Goerge.
“You’re welcome.” He stood in front of me, gazing down at me with his piercing eyes. “I didn’t know your parents passed.”
I smiled wryly. “Yeah, well. It’s not exactly a conversation starter, is it?”
“I suppose not. How did they die?”
“Plane crash,” I said flatly. “They were flying back from Chicago. The plane had some technical difficulties and went down. No one survived.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? You aren’t the reason they crashed.” My fingers flexed around the stem of my glass.
