Free Sawyer, Meryl by A Kiss in the Dark Page A

idea. Uncle Wally was
supposed to be with her.
    Brent walked up. "Let's look at the auction. Mother tells me
Cartier's diamond necklace and earrings are spectacular."
    "I don't want to look at any jewelry," she snapped.
    Eleanor chose that moment to walk up. "Oh, my. What's
wrong?"
    "Why isn't my uncle beside me?"
    "Well, I—that is we—" She turned to her son. "Your
father and I thought Wallace Winston would be more comfortable at another
table."
    "You've got a lot of nerve."
    Royce's tone sapped the color from Eleanor's face. She flung a
disgusted look at her son, then scurried away.
    Brent caught Royce's arm. "Mother was only thinking of your
uncle, darling."
    She yanked out of his grasp, every slight she'd suffered from the
Farenholts surfacing at once. But nothing could top this. Why had she put up
with it for so long?
    "You're a fool. You know your parents don't approve of Uncle
Wally. Never mind that he's one of the city's—this country's—most respected
journalists."
    "You're right," Brent reluctantly admitted.
    "And they hate me too." She took a deep breath, already
regretting what she was about to say, but knowing she had no other choice. "I
don't want to be engaged to a man whose parents despise me. Uncle Wally is all
the family I have, and your parents deliberately hurt him. He bought a ticket
tonight to please me. Now he'll have to sit God only knows where."
    Brent put his hands on her shoulders. "I'll take care of
it."
    "Don't bother." She glanced over to where the Farenholts
were standing. Caroline and the Italian count had just arrived. Smiles. Hugs.
"I'm going to find my uncle and sit with him."
    "Royce," Brent said, his brown eyes sad, "I love
you. I'll talk to my parents and make them understand."
    "I'm calling off our engagement until we work things
out."
    "No you're not, dammit!" His tone was
uncharacteristically angry. "We'll discuss this later"—he lowered his
voice—"when we're alone."
    Barely controlling her own temper, she rushed off to find her
uncle. The room was too crowded to be comfortable. Too crowded to find anyone
quickly. The Dillinghams waved to her, but mercifully they were far enough away
to avoid them without appearing rude. She finally found her uncle at the back
of the room. Alone.
    "I'm so sorry," she said when she found him.
"Eleanor Farenholt had your seat changed."
    "It doesn't matter," Wally said with his usual smile.
    "It matters to me. I can't go on like this. I called off our
engagement until we settle the situation with Brent's parents." She linked
her arm with his. "Tonight before I dressed I went up to Daddy's office in
the attic. I always feel close to him when I'm there. I couldn't help
remembering how happy we were as a family. It'll never be that way with
the—"
    "Honey, don't toss aside a man you love too easily. Above
all, don't worry about them accepting me. I've lived with rejection most of my
life."
    "It doesn't matter. I love you."
    "In spite of what I am?"
    "Because you're a wonderful person. You know, when I was a
little girl I used to tell everyone how lucky I was to have two daddies. Now
that Papa's gone, you're my father. And I'm not letting the Farenholts be nasty
to you. Come on, forget them." She tugged on his arm. "Let's find Val
and Talia."
    "You go on. I'll wait right here."
    Royce located Val in the auction area. Her friend looked very
striking in Royce's copper lame dress. Val's hair, a unique shade of red
somewhere between rich honey and chestnut, was swept upward in clusters of soft
curls. Thank heavens, she wasn't spending another night moping over her
ex-husband.
    "Royce, I've been looking for you." Val's eyes swept
over Royce, registering her approval. "That's a great dress."
    Royce wore a loose-fitting beaded lavender gown that deepened the
green of her eyes. The shower of lavender beads had a high neckline—she'd
learned her lesson last weekend—but it glimmered as she moved, making her even
more noticeable. Like all of Royce's clothes