Forever Mine (15 page)

“There’s my mother. I’d better introduce you right off, or she might suspect there’s something…you know…fishy about your being here.”

“Fishy. Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I don’t belong here.”

“A dollar says the men won’t notice and the women won’t care. You can pay me later.”

Allie caught her mother’s attention then watched as she immediately left the small group where she’d been chatting and cut a path straight to them. With her dark hair upswept and her tall, lithe frame, her mother looked flawless as usual in a strapless black satin gown with a slash of ruffle zigzagging down the front.

Dior
, Allie guessed as her mother clasped her hands and kissed her cheek.

“We were worried about you, Allegra. But I see your young man here has delivered you safely.”

Through the corner of her eye, Allie glanced at Ben. He appeared unfazed by her mother’s use of the name, Allegra, although she suspected it had the same startling effect on him as her mother’s name had. Or maybe he already knew her real name. The cops had probably done a background check on her before setting up their stakeout. Besides, weren’t policemen well-versed in hiding their reactions in case they found themselves in slippery situations?

“Yes, Mother, I’m safe. The barbarians have yet to storm Nob Hill.”

Her mother gave the tiniest, exasperated shake of her head.

“This is Ben Sutter,” Allie continued. “Remember I told you he was up from L.A. uh…visiting his widowed aunt.”

The aunt was an on-the-spot improvisation. In anyone’s eyes, Ben would appear totally hetero. Hanging out with a widowed aunt, plus plying his trade with a needle and thread, was intended to warn her mother off.

“Ben, this is my mother, Delilah Forbes.”

He extended his hand and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

Allie congratulated herself for her foresight in cluing him in earlier about her name. Although it wasn’t important for Ben to impress her mother. Actually, the opposite was true. If he failed to register on her good-candidate-for-my-daughter-to-date meter, there would be no follow-up calls asking Allie for his full bio and their future plans.

Allie’s mother left her hand in his for several long seconds before withdrawing it. The half dozen chunky gold and gemstone bracelets circling her wrist made a soft clinking sound.

“We’re so pleased you were able to join us tonight.”

“Yeah. I looked forward to it all day.”

To Allie, Ben looked about as comfortable as any man would who had been coerced into attending an unwelcome event under false pretenses. Also, he could have sounded a bit more sincere. But, her mother’s pleasant expression never faltered. So far, it appeared Detective Sutter skated on thick ice.

“Allegra tells me you’re also part of the fashion world.”

Uh-oh. This might be where the ice cracked and swallowed him whole.

After too long a pause, during which Allie restrained from poking him in the ribs, he said, “That’s right.”

“Is it a full line or do you specialize exclusively in day or evening wear?”

Allie held her breath and squirmed inside her gown. Her back itched as if someone had tickled her with a feather.

“Um…” He cleared his throat. “I focus on comfortable clothes. The kind most men like to wear… especially me.”

Again, Allie recognized his hesitancy. Not so her mother whose eyes slid from Ben to Allie, with a clear message. Distance or not, this one might be well worth cultivating. Why had Allie ever thought Sutter would come across as anything other than super masculine?

A waiter passed with a tray holding champagne flutes. Allie reached out and grabbed one. Although the wine was meant for sipping, nerves caused her to gulp a mouthful, which she almost coughed up again. Quickly, she cleared her throat, recalling her earlier fear of necessitating the Heimlich maneuver.

Her mother shot her a warning glance as if to say, “Shape up or you’ll ruin any chance you have with this man.”

Allie’s plan to take a three-year break from dating had not set well with her mother. Delilah couldn’t fathom why Allie hadn’t married and produced a grandchild for her yet. Although where a grandchild would fit into her mother’s lifestyle remained a mystery to Allie.

“Do you come to San Francisco often, Ben?” Delilah asked.

He nodded. “Often enough.”

Her mother’s smile had conspiracy written all over it. “Wonderful. Next time you’re in the city, you must drop in for a visit with Allegra. You’re always welcome here.”

Sutter nodded. “Thanks, I’ll keep the invitation in mind.”

The itch had become almost intolerable. Allie clamped her arms to her sides to keep from reaching behind and scratching.

“Mother, where’s Hamilton?” Allie surveyed the room, anxious to climb over the next introductory hump.

“Hmm. The last I noticed, he’d headed toward the kitchen to make his famous flambé dip. I tried to talk him out of it tonight.” Delilah turned her attention back to Ben. “We’ve never had a fire, but there are more than the usual number of people present tonight. In case of disaster, I’m going to count on you to come to our rescue. You strike me as a man who keeps a cool head in a crisis.”

He cracked a weak smile. He nodded and his self-satisfied grin said he was a man who could be counted on. “You bet. I’ve handled my share of problems over the years.”

Delilah turned to Allie. “I think you had better find Hamilton and give him a little shove. I’ll introduce Ben to the other guests.” She laid a hand on his arm and, bracelets tinkling, floated off with the faux fashion arbiter in tow.

Allie drained her glass. The last time she overindulged on champagne, she’d fallen asleep in the front seat of her date’s car. She’d chalked that up as the reason why he’d never called her again. Tonight screamed for a clear head, so she resolved to limit herself to no more than two drinks then went off to find her stepfather.

The penthouse’s enormous kitchen hummed with activity. Bright lights bounced off the room’s stark white-tiled walls. The family cook and a posse of assistants bustled around Hamilton Forbes, who stood at a long granite countertop. Her stepfather’s tuxedo jacket hung from the back of a chair, and a chef’s apron covered his broad frame from chest to hips. The incongruity of him even knowing the location of the kitchen amused Allie.

“Hi, Hamilton,” she greeted and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hi, yourself. Did your mother send you to shoo me out of here?”

“She’s afraid you’ll burn the building down.”

“Haven’t yet,” He commented as he poured a cup of rum over other ingredients in a stainless steel bowl.

“Your mother told me you were bringing a young man with you tonight. Is he anyone special?”

A waiter nearby filled a tray with flutes of champagne. Allie helped herself to her second one before answering. “He’s just a friend not a keeper.”

If she were in the market for a boyfriend, she might consider someone like Detective Sutter—manly, self-confident and—she hoped—in control of dangerous situations. Just as long as a future boyfriend didn’t overuse his control or cheat on her like Jen’s Frenchman, Jean Claude, was probably doing. So far, Sutter didn’t seem overburdened with deficiencies. He must be one hell of a good cop and a considerate person, too. He could have kept her from attending tonight’s party and saved himself from possible embarrassment, but he’d known it was important to her.

“Okay, that does it.”

Hamilton lifted the apron over his head without disturbing a single strand of thick white hair. Allie fetched his dinner jacket. He slid his arms into the sleeves then handed her a box of matches. He picked up the bowl.

“I’ll make your mother happy and light this on the terrace.”

Allie followed him from the kitchen.

When they reentered the living room, Allie noticed a trio of women—a widow and two divorcees—had cornered Sutter in front of the fireplace. Allie privately referred to the women as the Valkyries, always on the lookout for a “hero,” albeit a live one, to carry them off to his own private Valhalla. Their ages ranged from early fifties to close to seventy. Not that a stranger could ever make that distinction, since all were repeat customers of the best cosmetic surgeons. She’d bet that more than one had it in mind to poach her “date.” If only they knew the high stomach-churning cost of capturing the attention of a handsome detective.

As for Ben, he gave the impression of rapt attention while they fluttered and cooed in his ear. But his eyes told a different story. They were practically glazed over with boredom.

Hamilton held the bowl aloft and announced the forthcoming fireworks then made his way to the terrace. Most of the guests followed him outside. Allie caught Sutter’s eye. He appeared eager for escape, too, but the woman who’d chaired the opera opening with her mother the previous autumn had her hand clamped on his coat sleeve. Marking her territory? Allie had a sudden urge to stalk over and smack the bejeweled hand off him. Instead, she hurried out to the terrace.

Hamilton set the bowl on a bistro table then turned to his audience. “Don’t stand too close.”

He pulled a match from the box Allie offered, flourished it as if it were a magician’s wand then struck it. A pleased expression spread across his handsome face as he ignited the contents of the bowl. Half a foot of flame shot up, and he bowed to a hearty round of applause. Once the flame died down, a maid appeared and carried away the bowl.

Everyone headed back into the living room, but Allie remained on the terrace. Lights from many of the surrounding apartments cut through the darkening night. A few scattered stars poked through the gloom. Allie shivered, although tall electric heaters, dispersed along the terrace, dispelled most of the evening chill.

“I’d offer you my jacket, but tonight that doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Sutter, who had escaped the Valkyries, and found himself a soft drink, wandered over to her. Ice cubes clinked against the sides of his tall glass as he set it on a table.

“That’s all I’d need – for my mother to see your party gun. God, if she ever found out why you’re really here…” Allie groaned.

Sutter leaned back against the waist-high brick wall at the edge of the terrace. His gaze swept the huge living room beyond the doors. Through the warm glow of flickering candlelight, Allie tracked the hint of a smile in his eyes. “So, Allegra, did you grow up here?”

“Please don’t call me Allegra.”

“Why not? Don’t you like it? I do.”

She didn’t tell him the meaning of Allegra was happy…jaunty. With the second-to-last leg of her competition looming—and the crisis with Dave—her mood had been anything but lighthearted lately.

“I use Allegra Nash on the label for my bridal line. Otherwise, I prefer Allie. If I ever branch out to daytime and evening apparel, which is my goal, I’ll continue to use it. Name recognition is very important. Women who look good in a certain designer’s clothes will search for that line in stores.

“Yeah, Allie is good, too.”

“My mother’s name is stamped inside all her jewelry. Although—and very few people know this—she came into the world as Delia, my great-grandmother’s name. Mother never changed it legally. Delilah harks back to her hippie days when she lived in Berkeley. That’s where she met my dad. He was studying journalism at UC, and she was designing and making jewelry.”

“Hippy beads?”

“Hmm…I’m not sure. Maybe at first. She’s never talked much about those early years. I know, eventually, she created unique designs and sold them at street fairs and flea markets.”

Allie took a sip of champagne. “A friend of hers owns a boutique off Union Square. She sells clothing, shoes, jewelry. A little bit of everything. She invited my mother to display her jewelry at the shop. Mother and Hamilton met there. He’d bought several of her pieces for his first wife. A year or so after she passed away, he stopped in to say hello and invited Mother to lunch. They married two years later. I was eleven then. So, no, I didn’t grow up here.”

“Where then?”

Allie set her champagne flute on the table next to Ben’s glass.

“I spent the first eight years of my life living with my parents in a large, three-story house. I guess you could call it a commune. It was high up in the Berkeley hills. We grew our own garden in back, ate most of what we produced and sold the rest at farmers’ markets. Mostly vegetables, fruits, and home-baked breads. Sometimes eggs, depending on how many the chickens laid. Best part, there were few restrictions. If there were set rules—other than no drugs or abusive behavior—I was unaware of them. I learned to think for myself and not just fall into line like a good little soldier.”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

She ignored the remark.

“Have you ever milked a goat?”

His features crinkled in obvious dismay at the thought. “Milking anything—especially goats—is one notch above my pay grade.”

Allie laughed. “It was a great experience. I fed the chickens, and, since there were always dogs and cats running around, I learned a lot about—” She clamped her lips together.

“Yes, about?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

Allie’s gaze shifted to his tie. “Sex,” she mumbled.

“Really.” His brief laugh was as soft as a breeze. “I suppose there are worse ways to learn, and it would do away with a lot of misconceptions.”

A second’s curiosity made her wonder about Ben’s initial sexual instruction, but it was one question she’d never pose. He was a man averse to baring his soul, and she had a hunch he’d never freely open up about sex.

“I learned how to get along with many different kinds of people.” She hurried on to cover her blunder. When had she started feeling comfortable enough with him not to measure her words? “There were always at least a dozen people living there. Some were permanent; others stayed less than a year. It was a warm and loving environment. A lot of creative people. Respectful. After my parents’ divorce, my mother and I moved in with my grandmother. She was widowed and getting on in years. When Mother married Hamilton, I continued to live with Gram. My school and friends were all in the Sunset District, and there’s the ocean almost right at my door. As much as I love Mother and Hamilton, I wouldn’t have felt comfortable in this apartment.”