Chapter 13: The First Laugh

Nathan appeared in the breakfast room carrying a leather folder and the expression of a man who had already solved everyone else's problems before eight o'clock.

"Your schedule has changed, sir."

Ethan looked up from the report in front of him. "It has?"

"The Children's Hope Foundation gala moved their keynote speaker to tonight."

"I declined."

"You did." Nathan placed another envelope beside his coffee. "They declined your decline."

Emma looked up from her tea. "That's a real thing?"

"It appears so."

She hid a smile behind her cup. Ethan noticed.

"The board feels your attendance would help, after the recent publicity."

"They mean the wedding."

"They mean the wedding."

Ethan closed the report. "What time?"

"Seven." He looked at Emma. "You don't have to come."

"Actually," Nathan said, "the invitation specifically requests both Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley."

Emma sighed. "So much for staying invisible."

"I'm afraid that opportunity has passed."

The ballroom buzzed with polite conversation and camera flashes. Not as many as the wedding. Enough.

A photographer lifted his camera. Emma looked away before the flash came. She'd already learned that strangers preferred photographs to introductions.

"You've done this before?" Emma asked quietly.

"Too many times."

"I'll try not to embarrass you."

"I wasn't worried."

"That's either very flattering or very insulting."

"I haven't decided."

She almost smiled. Almost.

The event began with speeches. Then another speech. Then an auction.

"Do charity dinners always have this many speeches?" Emma leaned toward him.

"They usually have more."

"You're joking."

"No."

She looked genuinely horrified. "I've changed my mind. About charity."

For the first time that evening, Ethan's eyes held something dangerously close to amusement.

A few feet away, Nathan noticed. Interesting.

After dinner, guests were invited to visit the activity booths set up for the children the foundation supported. Most of the children had no interest whatsoever in billionaires.

One little boy tugged at Ethan's jacket. "Mister? Are you a magician?"

Emma blinked. Ethan looked at himself.

"I don't think so."

"But magicians wear fancy clothes."

"I've been told businessmen do too."

The child considered this very seriously. "So where are your tricks?"

Nathan appeared beside them before Ethan could answer. "He makes quarterly reports disappear."

"That's boring."

"It usually is," Ethan admitted.

The boy folded his arms. "My magician pulls rabbits out of hats."

"I don't own a rabbit."

He sighed, deeply put-upon. "Then what are you even for?"

Emma laughed. Not politely. Not because someone important expected her to.

It escaped before she could stop it, bright and unguarded, catching her as much by surprise as everyone standing near her.

The boy grinned. "I knew he was funny."

"He isn't," Emma managed between laughs.

"You are."

"I've never heard that before."

Ethan couldn't remember the last time a laugh had landed on him without calculation behind it, some angle, some ask. This one had none.

The boy ran off. Emma wiped at the corner of one eye. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I laughed. It wasn't very dignified."

"No." A pause. "I think it improved the evening."

"You really think so?"

"Yes."

It was such an uncomplicated answer that she believed him immediately.

For the rest of the evening, Ethan found himself watching for that laugh again.

He asked whether the desserts looked more expensive than they tasted.

"They do," Emma said. No laugh.

He pointed to a modern sculpture in the lobby. "It resembles Nathan."

She studied it. "It has less personality."

Nathan, arriving just in time to hear that, didn't miss a beat. "I'll take that as praise."

A smile. Still not the laugh.

As they prepared to leave, Ethan glanced toward the stage, where a violinist was tuning her instrument.

"Do you think she'd notice if I requested something shorter?"

"You dislike violins?"

"I dislike speeches with background music."

She smiled again. Close. Not quite.

He frowned very slightly. Emma caught it.

"Were you trying to make me laugh?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I don't lie."

"You do. Just now."

He considered that. "...Perhaps."

This time she laughed again. Quieter than before. Just as real.

Nathan opened the car door for them. Watching Ethan help her inside, something in his expression eased, as close to satisfied as he ever allowed himself to look in public.

It wouldn't be the auction people remembered tomorrow, or the photographs, or even the billionaire.

It would be the woman beside him, laughing as though she'd forgotten, for a few seconds, that the whole world had been watching her.

Ethan closed the door and walked around to the other side.

He didn't understand why hearing that laugh mattered so much.

He only knew he wanted to hear it again.

Tomorrow she was due back at the nonprofit, sorting through donation boxes nobody had touched in years. Tonight, at least, was still hers.