up and I promise we’ll just make a brief appearance and then we can escape. I’m going to use the babysitter excuse.’
‘You have an excuse worked out already?’
‘It pays to be prepared.’ He grinned and was relieved to see an answering smile from Abi. ‘And if you let me give you a lift, you’ll have an excuse to leave too.’
She laughed and Damien felt the warm glow spread further through his body. He hadn’t heard her laugh before and the sound burst from her, rich and joyous and completely unexpected. She sounded confident and full of life. Her laugh had wiped out all traces of fragility, leaving a sense of excitement and anticipation, and he knew he was going to do everything he could to make her laugh again.
‘I’ve run out of excuses,’ she said once she stopped laughing. ‘I even tried telling Freya I have nothing to wear but then she offered to lend me a dress. So I think I will use your excuse. I would love a lift, thank you.’
* * *
Abi hesitated in the entrance and fiddled with the small diamond studs in her ears. She had sold all the jewellery Mark had given her during their ill-fated relationship when she’d discovered his deception. She’d only ever liked it because he’d given it to her but it hadn’t really been her style—it was too ostentatious for her. She had simpler tastes and once she’d discovered the truth about Mark the jewellery had made her feel cheap and naive. She’d used the proceeds to buy herself a simple pair of diamond studs. They were the only decent jewellery she owned.
‘Are you coming in?’ Damien asked.
She hadn’t been sure if accepting Damien’s offer of a lift had been a wise decision. She still wasn’t sure but after discussing the facts with her psychologist she had decided not to rescind his invitation. Caroline had convinced her that she needed to start socialising and she had suggested that this cocktail event would provide a perfect opportunity. It was in a safe, familiar location with a large number of people she already knew and there was no need for her to stay for hours. She could make an appearance and once she’d had enough she could leave. Abi wasn’t totally convinced but she had agreed to give it a go, though she had known she wouldn’t have the courage to arrive on her own. Damien’s invitation had seemed like the lesser of two evils.
‘Shall we?’ Damien asked.
He was still waiting patiently for her. She needed to get moving, they couldn’t stand outside all night. She ran her hands down the front of her dress, Freya’s dress, in a self-conscious, nervous gesture.
‘Don’t worry, you look gorgeous,’ he said.
‘Really?’
Abi had been worried about this dress. She’d never owned or worn anything like it but she had no option. It was a simple sheath with thin spaghetti straps but its simplicity belied its eye-catching silhouette. The dress was made of gold sequins that matched her eyes and it shimmered and sparkled as she moved. It looked expensive and it was. There would be no hiding in the corner in this one. She had draped a black wrap over her shoulders in an attempt to tone the outfit down but she still felt very conspicuous. ‘I was worried it might be too much. It’s not too revealing?’
Damien shook his head. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘Thank you.’ His compliment sent a thrill of pleasure through her and boosted her confidence. She wanted to tell him that he looked amazing too but she couldn’t summon the courage. He was in a black evening suit, single breasted, cut to his slim frame, drawing attention to the blackness of his hair and eyes. She wasn’t a girl who was taken in by a man in uniform, years of army life had made her immune to that, but a man in a dinner suit with a crisp white shirt and a bow tie that had been tied on, not clipped, was a different story. Especially when it was carried off as well as Damien did. He could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.
He placed a hand in the small of her back and ushered her towards the door. A security guard was stationed there and Abi felt herself relax, knowing no unexpected guests would have gained entry.
Together they stepped into the clinic foyer, where Abi stopped and looked around her in awe. The foyer was normally spectacular, reminding her of a modern art gallery, but Freya had outdone herself tonight. Chandeliers had been hung from the ceiling, enormous crystal vases held oversized flower arrangements, a string quartet played in the corner and young, beautiful waiters, whom Abi suspected would be models or actors, served French champagne.
The party spilled from the reception area into the internal courtyard, although the room was not yet crowded. Abi was relieved to see that she and Damien were among the first to arrive. She wasn’t brave enough to walk into a room full of people, it was far better if the room filled up around her.
Freya had timed the party to begin at sunset and the view of the city sparkling below them as the lights began to come on was spectacular. Freya was greeting guests just inside the door. Abi knew it wasn’t technically Freya’s party but that was how she thought of it. She had talked of nothing but work and the party all week and even though the party was a publicity event for The Hills and for the Bright Hope Clinic, Abi couldn’t help but associate it with Freya.
Even the guests looked as if they could all be Freya’s friends. Everyone looked rich—some looked like new money, others like old, but Abi was neither. She had grown up poor, something she doubted any of these people were familiar with. Although she looked the part tonight she still felt a great divide between her and everyone else. There wasn’t anything she could do about it but she didn’t like it and she worried that the guests would see through her smoke-and-mirrors dress to the girl who had grown up poor, raised by an alcoholic single mother.
‘Abi, let me check your wrap.’ Damien’s voice interrupted her thoughts. His hands were on her arms and she could feel the warmth of his fingers spreading through her body as he started to slip the wrap from her shoulders.
She wanted to go with him to the coat check. She didn’t want to wander unaccompanied among the other guests, and she didn’t want to introduce herself to strangers. She was about to follow him when Mila appeared by her side.
‘Good, you’re here,’ Mila greeted her. ‘Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.’
‘I’ll catch up with you later,’ Damien said, as Mila tucked her arm into Abi’s almost as if she was afraid Abi would run away if she didn’t keep hold of her.
As Mila led her through the crowd Abi felt as though she’d been dropped into a movie set, a glamorous, old-school Hollywood movie. It was good in a way as it didn’t feel like real life. Perhaps if she could pretend it was make-believe she would be able to relax and enjoy the evening.
Mila stopped next to a solid, muscular man with cropped dirty blond hair and brown eyes and introduced her. ‘Here she is. Abi, this is Tyler Richardson, my boyfriend.’
Abi was taken by surprise. After witnessing the exchange, and the tension, between Mila and James earlier in the week she realised she hadn’t expected Mila to have a boyfriend. Maybe Tyler was the source of the tension she had felt.
‘It’s good to meet you.’ Tyler took her hand and shook it hard. He seemed laid back and relaxed but she couldn’t figure out why he’d want to meet her. ‘I wanted to thank you,’ he continued.
‘Thank me? For what?’
‘For taking on Dylan’s care.’
Abi frowned, unsure what connection Tyler had with her patient.
‘I’m a fireman,’ he explained, as Mila excused herself to visit the bathroom. ‘I was in the crew that went to the scene of Dylan’s accident. I pulled him out of the house.’
‘Oh, I see. Is that how he ended up at the Bright Hope Clinic? Through you?’
‘I called in at the hospital to see how he was doing and spoke to his mum and mentioned that Mila’s clinic might be able to help. How did the surgery go? How is he?’
‘I’m