Tristan made the introduction, knowing Rufus would be remembering a time when his daughter had been the woman on Tristan’s arm. “George Rufus, this is Ella Jacob.”
The mayor smiled. “Are you new to town, my dear? I don’t believe I’ve seen you at similar events.”
“Ella works for me,” Tristan said. The mayor would have discovered as much when he arrived for dinner in two weeks’ time.
The mayor nodded as if that made some sense. “Personal assistant?”
“Housekeeper,” Ella admitted.
The mayor’s brow creased before his face lit up. “So you’re the young lady who bakes a caramel apple pie to die for?”
Ella lifted a modest shoulder. “I’ve received a few compliments on that recipe.”
“I’m looking forward to adding to those compli-ments. I presume Tristan told you I invited myself over for dinner?”
She smiled. “I’m planning something extra special.”
“But caramel apple pie for dessert?”
“With your choice of cream or warm brandy custard.”
The mayor chuckled. “I’ll look forward to it.” His smile tightened. “I hope Mr. Barkley is taking good care of you.” He redirected his attention to Tristan.
Tristan inwardly cringed. Ella didn’t know the full implication behind the mayor’s words. But if he decided to take this relationship to the next level, Tristan supposed he’d best tell Ella the whole sordid story. He hadn’t pushed Bindy Rufus toward her untimely death. She’d chosen her own path, which included infidelity with the worst possible partner.
A photographer with rumpled hair and an ill-fitting suit interrupted them. “Mind if I get a shot for the celebrity page?”
Tristan acquiesced and after some minor staging, the flash went off. Seemed he, Ella and the mayor would share the limelight somewhere in tomorrow morning’s print.
The mayor bid them good-night and, back at the table, Ella stifled a yawn.
Tristan studied her face. He should have noticed earlier the shadows under her eyes. “You’re tired.”
“No, I’m not,” she replied too quickly.
She didn’t want to spoil his night. Sweet, but it suited him to leave. Now that he’d made up his mind, he didn’t want to delay moving forward.
He was serious about pursuing the marriage-of-convenience proposition. For Ella it would mean a stable husband with the resources and temperament to treat her well. He in turn would have a wife other men would envy—the veritable girl-next-door with no pretences or ulterior motives. No headaches. No heartache.
Tristan’s good humor dipped as he swept his jacket off the back of his chair.
Ella’s naiveté was all the more reason to keep an eye on Cade tomorrow. His older brother had white-anted him before. No reason to trust him now.
He collected Ella’s purse from the table. “It’s almost eleven,” he said, handing the purse over. “Time to call it a night.”
Her eyes unwittingly flashed with gratitude before she shrugged. “Well, if you’re sure you’re ready.”
Tristan smiled at his beautiful companion. He was more than ready.
During the drive home, Ella was floating.
She’d never attended an event quite like tonight’s. Those people were some of the wealthiest in the state—in the country—but despite having had next to no sleep last night, she hadn’t made a social blunder. The reason was clear. Her companion.
She looked across at Tristan sitting relaxed behind the wheel, his expression intent as the night shadows flickered over his classic profile.
He’d been the perfect escort, making her feel not only beautiful but…special, even when she’d trodden on his foot, not once but twice.
Ella dropped her gaze to her hand holding her knotting stomach. The night wasn’t over yet. More than instinct whispered to her what was in store. Tristan planned to kiss her again. She saw it in his eyes and the tilt of his mouth whenever he smiled at her.
He’d obviously thought more about last night’s embrace and wanted to test those waters again. What else did he have planned? How much was she pre-pared to give? she wondered. What exactly did Tristan want from her?
Possibly a brief interlude with an employee who would be out of his life in two weeks. Fulfillment of a curiosity with no lingering ties. Surely nothing more than that.
As Tristan drove into the garage, Ella tried to divert her thoughts. The dinner she intended to prepare for the mayor seemed a good topic.
“Do you know of anything special other than pie the mayor would like served?”
“Actually he’s a big fan of clam chowder. His wife served it whenever I shared a meal with the family.”
As Tristan shut down the engine, Ella unsnapped her seat belt. “I didn’t realize you two were that close.”
“Not anymore.” He opened his car door. “Some time ago, I dated Belinda Rufus.”
Ella looked hard at him. No mistaking such a unique last name. “The mayor’s daughter?”
He nodded, then got out of the car and rounded the vehicle to escort her inside.
“We’d been seeing each other for three months,” he continued, thumbing on the kitchen lights. “She died in tragic circumstances—a car wreck.”
Ella was taken aback. “I’m sorry, Tristan.”
He nodded then added in a low voice, “The mayor blamed me.”
“Were you driving?”
He shook his head and leaned on the back of a kitchen chair. “I’d invited Bindy to a friend’s wedding. Not far into the reception party, it was clear she’d had far too much champagne. When I suggested we leave, she stumbled out onto the balcony. The fresh air only made her intoxication worse. She must have known I wasn’t impressed, but she wouldn’t stop. I thought she was talking nonsense at first, and then she told me—” His Adam’s apple bobbed, then he cleared his throat and scrubbed his jaw. “She said she’d slept with Cade the week before.”
Ella fell back against the bench. “But why?”
“She seemed to take relish in the fact that Cade was the wealthiest of the Barkley brothers.”
“Oh, Tristan. No wonder…”
“Although she obviously expected me to, I didn’t explode. Instead I had this perverse urge to laugh.” He sneered. “Big brother Cade was at it again.”
She couldn’t imagine feeling so betrayed. Scarpini might be her half brother—if, in fact, that were true—but Tristan had known Cade all his life. They’d grown up in the same house, shared the same parents. How could brothers turn out so differently? She hadn’t known Tristan long, but instinctively she knew he would never act so appallingly.
He shrugged and pushed off the chair. “Perhaps Bindy wanted a duel at dawn. But it only crystallized what I’d been feeling more and more. We weren’t right for each other and that confirmed it.” Deep into his thoughts, he moved toward her. “Bindy stumbled away. A minute later I saw my car speed off. She’d had my keys in her bag. I followed in a friend’s car, but…”
Ella continued for him. “She crashed.”
He blinked then nodded once. “She died instantly.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “The mayor blamed me. Said I didn’t take care of his little girl. He thought I’d