Taste Of You

Chapter 1 – The Announcement The ballroom looked like it had been dipped in gold. There were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the violin didn't stop playing. People swirled in gowns and tuxedos and… I hated it. By the time my father walked on stage, I was already three glasses of champagne in. The bubbles burned my throat but they also kept me from thinking too much. “Ladies and gentlemen,” my father’s voice carried easily over the crowd. I stiffened. He stood under the spotlight in his black suit, not a single hair out of place. “Tonight we celebrate not just the thirty years of Hart Enterprises, but also, a new beginning in my personal life.” The crowd clapped politely and my stomach tightened in response. “I am pleased to announce my engagement,” he finished, his lips curled up into a small smile. Honestly, it's the first time since my mom died that I'd seen him smile like that. The room shifted, all attention locked on him. Then she stepped out from the side. Vivienne. My father's new wife, I guess. She was younger than I expected, stunning in a red dress that clung in ways designed to catch every eye. She slipped her hand into my father’s arm, and beside her, a boy with messy blond hair and round glasses. He couldn’t have been more than ten. “This is Vivienne,” my father said, “and her son, Ethan.” The applause swelled. And me? I frowned, suddenly applying way too much pressure on the half empty champagne glass I was holding. What does he mean by engaged? My mom was only dead for a year and he was already getting married. And he didn't even tell me, not without so much as a call… The relationship between my father and I was a rocky one. He was almost never around to spend time with me and we never saw eye to eye, which was why he'd shipped me off to a private university and now, I was done, I found out he's engaged. The nerve… My father bent down slightly, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. His face softened in a way he never had with me. He bent lower, ruffled the boy's hair and said something in the boy's ear, and the little boy laughed. Something hot burst in my chest, and I clapped, too, making sure it was harder than anyone else. “Bravo,” I called out, my voice cutting through the polite cheers. Heads turned. My laugh was too loud, and it was edged with a bitterness I couldn’t hold back. “Well done, Dad. You got yourself a new wife and a new son. How perfect.” “Isabelle.” His voice dropped, warning me. I stumbled forward, the champagne was already doing its work. “I didn’t even get an invitation to this little happy family show. But sure, let’s toast to Richard Hart, the man who never misses a chance to replace people. Mom has only been dead a year!” People whispered, and I even saw a woman nudge her husband. “That’s enough.” My father damn near barked at me. “Enough?” I laughed again, a sound that scraped my throat. “No, no. Let’s keep going. Why stop when everyone’s watching?” A hand landed on my arm, stopping my next words. “Isabelle….” I knew that voice. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I knew it. When I turned, I found Luca Deveraux, my father's best friend staring down at me. He looked older than the last time I saw him, taller somehow and sporting salt and pepper hair. He was dressed in a tux that probably cost more than my rent, and his day old stubble was neat. “Let me go,” I muttered, jerking my arm. “Don't make a scene here, little one.” He lowered his voice so that only I could hear. “Come with me.’ “I’m not a child,” I shot back. “You’re acting like one.” he countered with a raise of his brows. My chest burned. “You don’t get to say that.” “I do when you’re about to make a fool of yourself.” I tilted my chin and gestured around me at all the people gawking at us. “Too late.” His fingers tightened around hers but not painfully, but enough that I knew he wasn't letting me go. He turned me slightly so that my body was angled away from the stares. My father was watching us, and he was not smiling. Luca gave him the smallest nod, which I guessed was assurance, that he had me under control. I hated that word, Control. “You’ve had enough champagne,” Luca murmured. I tried to pull back, but my heel caught the edge of the carpet. I swayed, and before I could fall, his arm wrapped around my waist. My body pressed against his chest and I could feel his muscular arms around me. His face was closer now, and the clean scent of his cologne brushed against me. His mouth was set, but there was something in the way he held me that didn’t feel like scolding. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered into my ear. “Do what?” I was no longer shouting. “Embarass yourself just to get his attention.” My lips parted, and for a second, I couldn’t find words. “You think you know me?” “I promised your mother I’d look after you.” His hand was still on my waist and I hated that I didn’t want him to move it. “Isabelle, I know you’re hurting. But the attention you're bringing to yourself tonight, it isn’t the way.” I blinked back the sting of tears in my eyes. My throat felt tight. “Funny, you disappear for years and suddenly you're my savior? Did you check on me the past year I've been away at school?” Luca sighed. “Your father told me you were safe in school. He's your father and he knows what's best for you. Which is why tonight, I'll be your savior.” He cracked a smile which didn't quite reach his eyes. I shoved lightly at his chest, needing distance. “I don’t need saving.” “Then let me get you out of here.” he continued, refusing to give up. “Why?” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and did my best to keep a straight face. “Because everyone’s watching.” I glanced around. He was right. Dozens of eyes on me, waiting for another outburst, ready to gossip over their champagne flutes. My father hadn’t moved, hadn’t even tried to stop me. Of course not. He didn’t have to because Luca was already doing the work. I swallowed, then nodded at Luca once. “Fine. Get me out of here.”