He was an attractive man, smooth, almost silkily attractive. The faintest sprinkling of silver at the temples to add distinction, the slight dip in the chin to add charm.
Neither of them would mention her father, or the poorly kept secret of Jerry's wife's infidelity. Instead, they would keep it light, mildly flirtatious, friendly.
They understood each other, Sophia thought, very well. The competition between Giambelli and La Coeur was high, and often exhilarating. And Jeremy DeMorney was not above using whatever means came to hand to push his edge.
She admired that.
"I'll even spring for dinner," she told him. "And the wine. Giambelli-MacMillan wine. We'd want the best, after all."
"Then perhaps some La Coeur brandy, back in my apartment."
"Now, you know how I feel about mixing business with… business."
"You're a cruel woman, Sophia."
"You're a dangerous man, Jerry. How're your kids?"
"The children are fine. Their mother has them in Saint Moritz for the holidays."
"You must miss them."
"Of course. I thought I might spend a day or two in the Valley before heading home. Why don't you and I mix pleasure with pleasure?"
"That's tempting, Jerry, but I'm swamped. I don't think I'll come up for air until after the first of the year." She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, watched her mother slip off toward the ladies' room. With Rene a few feet behind.
"Speaking of swamped, I have something I have to deal with right now. Lovely to see you."
"And you," he replied as she worked her way through the crowd. It would be even lovelier to see her, he thought, when she and the rest of her family were ruined.
Helping bring that about would be mixing business with business, he thought. And pleasure with pleasure.
Rene pushed through the door of the cozy, wood-walled ladies' lounge one step behind Pilar. "Managed to land on your feet, didn't you?" Rene leaned against the door, to discourage anyone from joining them.
"You got what you wanted, Rene." Though her hands wanted to tremble, Pilar opened her evening bag and pulled out her lipstick. She'd intended to steal two private minutes before making her last rounds and heading up to the villa. "I shouldn't be an issue for you anymore."
"Ex-wives are always an issue. I'll tell you this, I won't tolerate you calling me, or Tony, and spewing out your neurotic abuse."
"I didn't call."
"You're a liar. And a coward. Now you're going to hide behind David Cutter." She grabbed Pilar's hand, jerked it up so the ring fired in the lights. "What did you have to do to wheedle this out of him?"
"I don't need a man to buy me jewelry, Rene, or anything else. That's an elemental difference between us."
"No, I'll tell you the difference between us. I go after what I want, in the open. If you think I'm going to let Tony slink away because you've gone whining to your family, you're wrong. You're not going to shove him out, your David Cutter isn't going to shove him out. And if you try… just think of all the interesting information he could pass along to your competitors."
"Threatening the family, or the business, isn't going to help secure Tony's position. Or yours."
"We'll see about that. I'm Mrs. Avano now. And Mr. and Mrs. Avano will be joining the family, and the other top-level executives, at the villa tonight. I'm sure our invitation was misdirected."
"You'll only embarrass yourself," Pilar told her.
"I don't embarrass easily. Remember this. Tony has a piece of Giambelli, and I have a piece of him. I'm younger than you, and a hell of a lot younger than your mother. I'll still be here when you're gone."
"Will you?" Deliberately, Pilar turned to the mirror, slowly, carefully painted her lips. "How long do you think it will take for Tony to cheat on you?"
"He wouldn't dare." Secure in her own power, Rene smiled. "He knows if he does, I'll kill him. I'm not the passive, patient wife. Tony told me what a lousy lay you were. We laugh about it. My advice? If you want to keep Cutter on the string, pass him down to your daughter. She strikes me as someone who knows how to entertain a man in bed."
Even as Pilar whirled, Sophia opened the door. "Oh, what fun. Girl talk? Rene, how brave of you to wear that shade of green with your coloring."
"Fuck you, Sophia."
"Erudite, as always. Mama, you're needed at the villa. I'm sure Rene will excuse us. She'll want plenty of room and privacy to fix her face."
"On the contrary, I'll just leave the two of you alone so you can hold your mother's hand while she dissolves into helpless tears. I'm not finished, Pilar," Rene added as she opened the door. "But you are."
"That was entertaining." Sophia studied her mother's face. "You don't look like you're about to dissolve into tears, helpless or otherwise."
"No, I'm done with them." Pilar dropped her lipstick back in her bag, closed it with a snap. "Sophie, honey, your father married her today."
"Well, hell." On a long sigh, Sophia stepped over, put her arms around her mother, laid her head on Pilar's shoulder. "Merry Christmas."
Chapter Eight
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Sophia bided her time. She needed to catch her father alone to say what she had to say, and not when Rene was draped all over him like poison ivy on a tree trunk. She promised herself she'd be calm, mature and crystal clear. Losing her temper was not an option.
She worked the crowd as she waited, danced once with Theo, who'd been so entertaining he'd nearly cured her sour mood.
When she spotted Rene on the dance floor with Jerry, she made her move.
It didn't surprise her to see her father tucked into a corner table flirting with Kris. It revolted her slightly, but didn't surprise her he'd turn on the charm for another woman on his wedding day.
But as she approached, she caught the subtle signals—a light touch, a promising glance—that told her it was more than flirtation. And that did surprise her.
Her father, she was certain, was cheating on Rene with Kris. Still, it was so like him, so ridiculously like him, it barely put a hitch in her stride.
She didn't know which of the three of them in that sticky triangle was the biggest fool, and at the moment, it wasn't her problem.
"Kris, I'm sorry to break up this tender moment, but I need to speak with my father. Alone."
"Nice to see you, too." Kris got to her feet. "It's been so long since you've bothered to come by the office, I nearly forgot what you look like."
"I don't believe I report to you, but I'll be sure to send in a photo."
"Now, princess," Tony began.
"Don't push it." Sophia kept her tone quiet, level, but the look she sent her father had his color going up and his mouth closing. "Let's just put this entire situation down to Christmas-party insanity. We'll have a meeting, Kris, in my office, when my schedule permits. For tonight, let's put business aside for personal matters. You can consider yourself lucky I saw you before Rene did. Now I need to speak to my father on family business."
"With you at the wheel, your family's not going to have much of a business." Deliberately Kris leaned down, skimmed a fingertip over the back of Tony's hand. "Later," she murmured and strolled away.
"Sophie, you have the entirely wrong impression. Kris and I were just having a sociable drink."
Her gaze cut like a blade. "Save it for Rene. I've known you longer. Long enough not to have the slightest interest in your bimbos. Please don't interrupt," she said before he could sputter out a protest. "This won't take long. I hear congratulations are in order. Or if not in order, required by elemental manners. So fucking congratulations."
"Now, Sophie." He stood, reached for her hand, but she snatched it out of reach. "I know you're not fond of Rene, but—"
"I don't give a damn about Rene, and at the moment, I don't give much of one about you."
He looked sincerely surprised, sincerely hurt. She wondered if he practiced the expression in his shaving mirror. "You don't mean that. I'
m sorry you're upset."
"No, you're not. You're sorry I've cornered you about it.
You were married today, and you didn't bother to tell me. That's one."
"Princess, it was a small, simple ceremony. Neither Rene nor I felt—"
"Just be quiet." His answer had been quick and smooth, but she knew the truth. He hadn't so much as thought of telling her. "You came to a family function, and under the business cloak, this is a family function, flaunting yourself and your new wife and a side piece for good measure. That's insensitive enough, but it goes up a considerable number of levels as you didn't have the decency to tell Mama about the marriage first. That's two."
Her voice had risen, just enough to turn some heads. Uneasy, Tony moved in closer. He took her arm, stroked it, tugged gently. "Why don't we go outside and I'll explain. There's no need to cause a scene in here."
"Oh, there is. Every need. I'm desperately trying to resist the temptation to do just that. Because here's the kicker, you son of a bitch. You pushed that woman in my mother's face." She jabbed a finger into his chest as her temper reared up and took over. "You let Rene corner her, let her spew all over her, let her make scenes and cause pain while you sit over here and slobber over yet another woman—and one young enough to be your daughter, if you ever remembered you have one. That's three, goddamn you. That's three and you're out. You stay away from her, and you stay away from me. You keep your distance, and see that your wife does the same. Or I'll hurt you, I promise you, I'll make you bleed."
She whirled away before he recovered, caught the amused smirk on Kris's face. She took a step in that direction, then another, not entirely certain what she intended to do. Then her arm was gripped and she was being swept away into the crowd.
"Bad idea," Ty said quietly as he slid his grip from her arm to her waist to keep her close. "Really bad idea to murder staff members at the company Christmas bash. Let's go outside."
"I don't want to go outside."
"You need to. It's cold. You'll cool off. So far you only entertained a handful of people who were close enough to hear your rip into Avano. Nicely done, by the way. But with the steam puffing out of your ears, you're going to end up putting on a show for the whole party."
He all but pushed her out the door.
"Stop shoving, stop dragging. I don't like being manhandled." She jerked free, rounded and nearly, very nearly struck him.
"Go ahead. First shot's free. After that, I hit back."
She sucked in a breath, blew it out, sucked in another while she continued to glare at him. With every breath her glittery gown threw out sparks in the moonlight.
She was, Ty thought, outrageous and magnificent. And dangerous as a handful of dynamite with the fuse already hissing.
"There you go," he said with a nod. "A few more and you might be able to see past the blood in your eyes."
"The bastard."
She stalked away from the ivy-covered stone walls of the winery, its shrubberies draped in festive lights. Away from the laughter, the music that pulsed against the tall, narrow windows. Into the shadows of the old cypress trees where she could rant privately until she was calm again.
He heard her muttering in Italian, some of which he understood, none of which sounded particularly pleasant.
"I couldn't help it." She turned back to where he stood, waiting while she worked it off. Her busy hands dropped to her sides.
"No, I don't guess you could. Always were a brat." Because it was cold, and she was starting to shiver, he stripped off his jacket, dropped it over her shoulders.
Her temper had fizzled, left her feeling raw and empty inside. "I don't care about him and Kris, even though it complicates my department. I can deal with that, with her. But he hurt my mother."
"She's handling it, Sophie. She's going to be okay." He jammed his hands in his pockets before he gave in to the urge to stroke and pet. She looked so damn miserable. "I'm sorry he hurt you."
"Yeah. Well, what else is new?" The blast of anger had left her with a dull headache and a raw stomach. "I guess I should thank you for getting me out of there before I cut loose on bystanders."
"If you mean Kris, she doesn't strike me as a bystander. More an operator. But no thanks necessary either way."
She turned back, saw by his face he was beginning to be embarrassed. Because she found that endearing she rose on her toes, lightly kissed his cheek. "Still. Thanks. I wasn't shouting, was I? I lose track when I'm in a tantrum."
"Not very much, and the band was loud."
"That's something then. Well, I believe my work is done here. Why don't you walk me up to the villa? You can make sure I don't throw another tantrum."
"I guess. You want your coat?"
"That's all right." She smiled and pulled his jacket a little closer. "I've got yours."
The gardens of the villa sparkled with thousands of fairy lights. The heated terraces were decked with flowers and ornamental trees. Table groupings invited guests to spill out into the starlight, enjoy the night and the music that slipped through the doors and windows of the ballroom.
Pilar used it as an excuse to have a moment in the air before returning inside to circulate among the guests and do her duty. She considered sneaking in an emergency cigarette.
"Hiding out?"
She jumped in her shadowy corner, then relaxed when she saw it was her stepfather. "Caught me."
"I was sneaking out myself." In an exaggerated move, he craned his neck, looking side to side, then whispered, "You carrying?"
The laugh felt marvelous. "Just one," she whispered back. "We can share it."
"Light it up, partner. Your mother's busy. We've got enough time to suck one down."
She lit the cigarette, and they stood in the shadows, companionably, conspiratorially passing it between them.
Relaxed in his company, she leaned back on the wall of the house, looked out. Lights were glowing in the fields, highlighting the naked twists and fingers of the vines. Behind them, the glamour of the music swelled.
"It's a beautiful party."
"As always." With enough regret for both of them, Eli stubbed out the last of the cigarette. "You and your mother and Sophia have outdone yourselves this year. I hope Tereza let you know how much we appreciate all the work you put into this event."
"She has. In her way."
"Then let me thank you in mine." He slipped his arms around her, guided her into a dance. "A pretty woman should never be without a dance partner."
"Oh, Eli." She laid her head on his shoulder. "What would I do without you? I'm such a mess."
"Not you. Pilar, you were a grown woman with a child of your own when I married your mother. I've tried not to interfere in your life."
"I know."
"Tereza does enough of that for both of us," he said and made her chuckle. "However," he continued, "I'm going to speak my mind. He was never good enough for you."
"Eli—"
"Never would have been good enough. You wasted a lot of years on Tony Avano, but you managed to get a wonderful daughter out of it. Treasure that, and don't waste the rest of your life wondering why it didn't work out."
"He married Rene. Just like that."
"All the better." He nodded when she jerked back to stare at him. "For you, for Sophia, for everyone involved. They suit, such as they are. And their marriage simply takes him one step further