pieces around their long necks and seemingly only allowed to say, “Price upon request,” in answer to any questions.
Kat goggled at the casual opulence as Sebastian led her through the tent. Heading for the field, they passed a clutch of children, giggling and wielding miniature wooden polo mallets. They were wearing shrunken versions of their parents’ outfits—tiny seersucker blazers and flowy sundresses—and they made a beeline for the kids’ tent, where there were pony rides, a magician, and multiple crafts set up to entertain them.
A bevy of waiters and cooks darted around, offering canapés and expertly preparing a traditional Argentine barbecue for the post-match dinner. In the corner, a sculpted young blonde with a mohawk spun records at her DJ station.
“So this is for your brother’s charity? How much do tickets cost anyway?”
Sebastian whistled for a moment, acting as if he was not going to answer.
“Sebastian?” pressed Kat.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Sebastian said quickly. “ Mira , isn’t that Donna Karan?”
“Ten thousand dollars?” yelped Kat. “Did you actually pay that?”
“It’s for charity,” said Sebastian. “And anyway, you said you needed to see a game.”
Kat shook her head. “You could have just taken me to a practice.”
Sebastian tugged at his ear for a moment.
He’s nervous , Kat realized.
“I want you to meet my mother,” he said.
Kat stopped and dropped her hand out of his. “Your mother is here?” she gasped.
“Well, of course,” said Sebastian. “She comes to every game.”
“Sebastian—”
“Don’t worry,” said Sebastian, cutting her off. “She only knows that we’re working on the script together, that we’re friends, but nothing more. It won’t be a big deal at all. And just think, you can ask her questions about Victoria. They were very close.”
Kat frowned. “I don’t know…”
Sebastian took her hand again and raised it to his mouth. One quick, warm kiss pressed upon her skin, and Kat suddenly felt giddy.
“Don’t worry, linda ,” he said. “She’ll love you.”
Together they looked for the reserved seats marked “Del Campo” alongside the field. Pushing through the crowd, Kat couldn’t help noticing the way that almost every woman’s eyes widened and then intently tracked Sebastian as they passed. As one tanned and toned socialite after another shot him hungry looks, Kat moved just a bit closer, taking his arm.
“Ah, Mamá . Good,” said Sebastian as they reached front row center, just a few yards behind the blue sideboards lining the field. Kat quickly dropped her hand away from Sebastian’s arm.
An elegant older woman with eyes the same color as Sebastian’s, wearing a long green kaftan and a rope of sparkling dark blue sapphires, stood up to greet them.
Kat smiled and felt vaguely discombobulated because she recognized the necklace as being a piece she had touched while cleaning.
“Hello, hijo ,” Pilar said as she kissed Sebastian.
The woman swept Kat with a curious, but not exactly unfriendly, look. Kat felt a little shock of worry. Even if Sebastian’s mother didn’t know there was something going on between Kat and her son, she obviously suspected it.
“This is Katarina Parker, Mamá ,” he said. “Katarina, this is mi mamá . Pilar Del Campo.”
“Please, just call me Kat, Mrs. Del Campo. So nice to meet you.”
Sebastian’s mother took Kat’s hand between her own and smiled. “And you must call me Pilar. Your mother has helped us out for many years now. She is very proud of you. Tell me,” she said, patting Kat’s hand before releasing it, “will your father be home soon?”
“Yes, he’s doing much better. It should any time now.”
“Shall we sit?” said Sebastian. “I believe the match is about to start.”
As they settled into their seats, a short, pretty, sandy-haired woman wearing medical scrubs and carrying a fat little baby wearing a tiny polo jersey hurried over
Kat goggled at the casual opulence as Sebastian led her through the tent. Heading for the field, they passed a clutch of children, giggling and wielding miniature wooden polo mallets. They were wearing shrunken versions of their parents’ outfits—tiny seersucker blazers and flowy sundresses—and they made a beeline for the kids’ tent, where there were pony rides, a magician, and multiple crafts set up to entertain them.
A bevy of waiters and cooks darted around, offering canapés and expertly preparing a traditional Argentine barbecue for the post-match dinner. In the corner, a sculpted young blonde with a mohawk spun records at her DJ station.
“So this is for your brother’s charity? How much do tickets cost anyway?”
Sebastian whistled for a moment, acting as if he was not going to answer.
“Sebastian?” pressed Kat.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Sebastian said quickly. “ Mira , isn’t that Donna Karan?”
“Ten thousand dollars?” yelped Kat. “Did you actually pay that?”
“It’s for charity,” said Sebastian. “And anyway, you said you needed to see a game.”
Kat shook her head. “You could have just taken me to a practice.”
Sebastian tugged at his ear for a moment.
He’s nervous , Kat realized.
“I want you to meet my mother,” he said.
Kat stopped and dropped her hand out of his. “Your mother is here?” she gasped.
“Well, of course,” said Sebastian. “She comes to every game.”
“Sebastian—”
“Don’t worry,” said Sebastian, cutting her off. “She only knows that we’re working on the script together, that we’re friends, but nothing more. It won’t be a big deal at all. And just think, you can ask her questions about Victoria. They were very close.”
Kat frowned. “I don’t know…”
Sebastian took her hand again and raised it to his mouth. One quick, warm kiss pressed upon her skin, and Kat suddenly felt giddy.
“Don’t worry, linda ,” he said. “She’ll love you.”
Together they looked for the reserved seats marked “Del Campo” alongside the field. Pushing through the crowd, Kat couldn’t help noticing the way that almost every woman’s eyes widened and then intently tracked Sebastian as they passed. As one tanned and toned socialite after another shot him hungry looks, Kat moved just a bit closer, taking his arm.
“Ah, Mamá . Good,” said Sebastian as they reached front row center, just a few yards behind the blue sideboards lining the field. Kat quickly dropped her hand away from Sebastian’s arm.
An elegant older woman with eyes the same color as Sebastian’s, wearing a long green kaftan and a rope of sparkling dark blue sapphires, stood up to greet them.
Kat smiled and felt vaguely discombobulated because she recognized the necklace as being a piece she had touched while cleaning.
“Hello, hijo ,” Pilar said as she kissed Sebastian.
The woman swept Kat with a curious, but not exactly unfriendly, look. Kat felt a little shock of worry. Even if Sebastian’s mother didn’t know there was something going on between Kat and her son, she obviously suspected it.
“This is Katarina Parker, Mamá ,” he said. “Katarina, this is mi mamá . Pilar Del Campo.”
“Please, just call me Kat, Mrs. Del Campo. So nice to meet you.”
Sebastian’s mother took Kat’s hand between her own and smiled. “And you must call me Pilar. Your mother has helped us out for many years now. She is very proud of you. Tell me,” she said, patting Kat’s hand before releasing it, “will your father be home soon?”
“Yes, he’s doing much better. It should any time now.”
“Shall we sit?” said Sebastian. “I believe the match is about to start.”
As they settled into their seats, a short, pretty, sandy-haired woman wearing medical scrubs and carrying a fat little baby wearing a tiny polo jersey hurried over
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