Afterburn (Page 12)
Afterburn (Afterburn & Aftershock #1)(12)
Author: Sylvia Day
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Ian’s making a point with this outing. I expect we’ll be wowed.”
* * *
AROUND EIGHT O’CLOCK I found myself exiting a limousine in front of a sprawling mansion in D.C. I’d been growing more anxious by the mile, starting when we boarded a private jet at the airport and increasing exponentially when the flight attendant advised us of our destination.
“He’s outdone himself,” Lei muttered as Pembry descended the sprawling home’s wide front steps to greet us.
The restaurateur looked impressively dapper in a classic tuxedo, his silvery-gray hair slicked back. He greeted me first by kissing the back of my hand, then turned his blue eyes onto Lei.
“You’re toying with one of my people,” she said coldly, watching impassively as he lifted her hand to his mouth. “You never used to be cruel.”
“I used to have a heart,” he drawled, “and then someone broke it.”
My gaze darted between the two, trying to read the vibrating tension between them. I got the sense I was being played and that everyone understood the rules but me.
Fine. If I kept my mouth shut and my ears open, I could catch up.
Ian turned and offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
He led me up the front steps with Lei trailing behind. A glance back at her proved she did so regally, her head held high on that long neck I envied. Light spilled out of the open double doors and limousines discharged their passengers in steady waves behind us. It was an amazing party and I hadn’t even crossed the threshold.
“I trust the flights were pleasant,” he said.
I glanced at him and found him watching me too carefully. “Yes, thank you.”
“Have you been to D.C. before?”
“My first time.”
“Ah.” He smiled, and I could see a hint of his charm. “Maybe you’ll consider spending the weekend. I have a town house in Georgetown. You’re welcome to use it.”
“That’s kind of you.”
Laughing, he unlinked our arms and set his hand at the small of my back, urging me through the doors before him. “I hope you’ll say more than a few words at a time as the evening progresses, Miss Rossi. I’d like to get to know you, especially since both Jackson and Lei have taken such an interest in you.”
My steps slowed when I saw what looked to be a receiving line. “What is this event?”
“A private fund-raiser,” he murmured near my ear.
I suddenly understood what Lei had meant by cruelty. “For a Rutledge?”
Amusement colored his voice. “Who else?”
Passing through the receiving line went quickly, with brisk handshakes from the men and slightly warmer handclasps by the women. All of them were perfectly groomed, without a hair out of place, and all had big practiced smiles with blindingly white teeth.
I was glad to get through and accept a glass of champagne from the tray of a smiling waiter. I was even happier to see Chad, who looked as uncomfortable as I felt. His face brightened when he saw us, familiar faces in an unfamiliar crowd, and he headed our way.
“I took the liberty of pairing Chad with you, Lei,” Ian said, his gaze sliding over her.
I searched the room for Jax. I didn’t see him, but then there were so many people milling around the ballroom we’d been shown to. A ballroom, for God’s sake, in someone’s house.
Who lived like this?
I swallowed a large gulp of the cool wine in my glass. Jax lived like this. The sleek businessman I’d seen at Savor fit in here, but not the lover I’d known.
You only thought you knew him….
Chad came up to me, sliding one finger beneath the collar of his dress shirt. “Can you believe this? I just met the governor of Louisiana. And he knew who I am!”
Ian’s smile was smug. But I still didn’t get it.
“How do politics and the food-service industry mix?” I asked him.
“Strange bedfellows, I admit.” He took my empty glass and swapped it for a fresh one as a waiter walked by. “But everyone eats.”
“Not everyone votes,” Lei said, catching her own glass.
“You were always much more conscientious about that than I,” Ian agreed. “What about you, Gianna? I can call you Gianna, can’t I? Do you exercise your right to vote?”
“Isn’t politics one of those topics it’s wiser not to discuss?” I eyed a passing tray of hors d’oeuvres and realized my nerves were too shot to even consider food.
“Why don’t we dance instead?” he suggested.
Figuring it might be a rare chance to speak to him alone, I agreed. Chad took my glass of champagne and downed it.
“I’ll warn you that I’m not a great dancer,” I told Ian as he led me over to the area reserved for dancing. I’d taken a few classes to build my confidence, but I never had a chance to dance formally outside of the studio and little time to practice anything beyond the basic steps. I had definitely never danced to a live orchestra before.
“Just follow my lead,” he murmured, pulling me close.
We blended into the few couples on the floor.
I was so focused on not stepping on his feet that I didn’t say anything for the first minute or so.
“Tell me how you know Jackson,” he said.
“I don’t know him.” And that was the truth, in every way that mattered.
Ian’s brows rose, his blue eyes searching my face. “Yesterday wasn’t the first time you’d met.”
“Since I’m sure you knew that before you brought him into the mix, I’m more interested in how you two know each other.”
“I know his father, Parker Rutledge. He introduced us.” He looked past me. “Speak of the devil.”
My spine stiffened. I turned my head, my steps faltering as I watched a man who looked eerily like Jax dancing with a very pretty younger woman.
The urge to leave the event was insanely strong. I had no business at a political fund-raiser, no place in a world that had nothing at all to do with my own. I couldn’t figure out how a pair of twin chefs had led me to this point in time and didn’t really care to puzzle it out at the moment anyway. A sinking feeling that the night would go from bad to worse was getting stronger.
“What was the reason you brought us here, Ian?”
He countered with a question of his own. “How ambitious are you, Gianna?”
“I’m loyal to Lei.”