Book Four: Thirty Days, Book 4
Page 12
The driver of the car service that Taylor has insisted I use since getting too big to drive pulls up outside the grand entrance to the hotel and hops out quickly to give me a hand out. Henry is waiting for me on the steps and, when I step out, he grabs my little pull-along overnight bag, along with the long garment bag holding my dress before offering me his arm for support.
“Seriously, how do women do this? Pregnancy sucks,” I grumble and Henry chuckles. “Oi, don’t you laugh at me otherwise I’m going to have to start interrogating you about your relationship with the good detective.”
Henry stiffens next to me and it’s my turn to chuckle as he stammers an incredulous, “What?”
“You may be an old hand at this spy game but you wear your heart on your sleeve. Will she be your plus-one tonight?” I ask cheekily.
“I’ll be working tonight,” Henry responds gruffly.
“Come on, your team can handle it. Relax a little. A party is supposed to be fun. Besides, I know Mum has allocated you a couple of seats,” I respond.
“Humph, we’ll see,” Henry says grudgingly as he steers me through the corridors towards to ballroom.
Once inside, I spot my mother ordering various staff members around as she tweaks the lights, the decorations and the centrepieces on the table. Quite frankly, I think the place looks fantastic but my mum is an absolute perfectionist and won’t be happy until everything is just right.
My father spots me and heads over to give me an all-encompassing hug. “Look at you, Abby,” he says. “You look ready to pop.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I respond sarcastically. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” But the twinkle in my dad’s eyes lets me know he is just teasing and I take it good-naturedly.
“Security arrangements for tonight,” Henry reminds me seriously and I’m half tempted to tell him he needs to take some chill pills. But as he and my dad exchange looks, I realise that they have every reason to be so worried.
Henry goes on to explain about the security teams that he will have in place both in the ballroom and in the staff areas of the hotel. The biggest issue it seems is the fact Richard and Taylor are identical twins so Henry is leery of relying on the hotel staff to differentiate. The last thing we want is for some over enthusiastic hotel security person tackling Taylor and ruining his party.
Once Henry seems satisfied that everyone is on the same page he seems to relax a little so, before he leaves, I make him promise to ask Detective Stanton to the party. He lets out a snort but the pink tinge on his cheeks lets me know that I’m finally getting to him.
It has been a busy morning and I know that if I have any hope of making it through tonight, I need a rest. I head back to reception and check into the suite of rooms I’ve booked for this evening. Stix will be bringing Genevieve along in a little while so I know that I need to get my head down for a nap now before the excitement begins.
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I smooth the silky fabric over my bump and give a brief twirl, watching in the mirror as the fabric swishes around my ankles.
“Oh, Abby,” my mother says with a contented smile. “You look stunning.” For once I might actually agree with her. Mum had her hair stylist come in and do our hair; mine is swept in a semblance of a chignon with a sparkly hair clip holding it in place while her dark tresses tumble down her back in waves worthy of a Greek goddess. Mum had also insisted on doing my makeup using a palette of golds and greens to make my eyes pop. I can honestly say that, apart from my wedding day, I’ve never looked this good, and that is saying something when you are thirty-nine weeks pregnant.
Stix wanders into the room resplendent in a chic little black lace cocktails dress that definitely makes her look older than she is. I have a feeling that I will need to make sure that the cocktail bar staff are made aware of her age, though I’m pretty sure I can trust her and her boyfriend, Chris, to behave themselves for such an important occasion.
“Wow, aren’t we all looking amazing?” I remark looking around me.
“Speak for yourselves, ladies,” Genevieve comments as she appears from her room. “I don’t think at my age ‘amazing’ applies to me.”
“Oh, you are so wrong, Genevieve. I love your dress. I think we are all going to be the belles of the ball,” I chuckle. And I really am not lying. Genevieve is wearing a simple beaded shift dress in midnight blue but as she moves it sparkles, giving winks of silver and turquoise, a feat that seems nothing short of magic. With her white hair styled into a soft bob and her makeup impeccable as always, she looks every inch the matriarch she is.
I tweak the bodice a bit further and fiddle with the sash running over my shoulder before finally feeling ready to head downstairs to meet our guests at the ballroom entrance. With Taylor safely tucked away in his fake meeting with Michelle’s fiancée who is posing as a potential new customer for us, we have about half an hour to get everyone inside and ready for the big surprise. Now that we are here I’m kind of fifty-fifty whether Taylor is going to love it or hate it, but it’s too late to turn back now.
The four of us ladies head downstairs getting appreciative looks as we go. Mum ends up standing with the security guy, checking everyone’s invitations as they enter while I stand in the lobby with Genevieve and Stix greeting family and friends as they wander in dressed in their finery.
At one point, I hear my name being called and when I turn around I realise that it’s Patricia, Taylor’s secretary. She smirks as she tells me that Taylor really doesn’t have a clue about the party.
As I watch the ballroom filling up, I can’t help but smile at all these wonderful people who have turned out to celebrate Taylor’s birthday. I know sometimes he feels very isolated because he doesn’t have a traditional family unit, but looking out at this sea of happy faces I can see he has created a very real ‘family’ around him through his employees and friends.
A buzz in my clutch alerts me that Taylor is just finishing up the meeting so I know we only have about five minutes to get organised and in position. I hurry over to the master of ceremonies to let him know and a moment later he is announcing to everyone to get over to the dance floor and be quiet. A moment later, the lights are dimmed down making it impossible for anyone to see much.
The plan was for Michelle to ask Taylor to have a look at the ballroom as a potential wedding venue and I can just imagine what his reluctance is going to be like. I’d bet anything he is looking at his watch and telling her he needs to leave to get back to Brighton and she is whining that it will only take ten minutes. We are counting on the fact that Michelle is persuasive enough to get him down here otherwise everything will be in vain.
My fears are unfounded when we hear two voices approaching; Taylor is telling Michelle he can literally only spare a couple of minutes. The room holds its collective breath, the tension zinging through the air, as the door creaks open and Taylor remarks how dark it is. Michelle comments that she is sure there must be a light switch around her somewhere and that is the cue for the lights to come up.
A moment later the room erupts in a chorus of, “Surprise!” I watch the emotions play across Taylor’s face, first shock, then confusion and lastly, delight as his eyes fix on mine. The noise dies down as everyone waits for Taylor to speak.
“Um, well, um…you got me. Wow, I mean, wow.” His words are slightly unsteady so I decide to put him out of his misery and step forward.
“We just wanted to get together to say happy birthday to you so, with a smidgen of help, we threw this little soiree together.” There is a titter of laughter at my words.
“I…I can’t believe you guys are all here for me,” Taylor remarks, clearly still a little shaken so I suggest that everyone grabs a drink and starts socialising while I get my hubby to slip into something a little more appropriate to the evening’s festivities. A few eyebrows are raised and a couple of good-natured jokes are thrown at Taylor as I pull him across to the cloakroom where I have a tux and couple of suits for h
im to choose from.
“Bloody hell, Abs,” Taylor smirks at me. “How the hell did you pull this off?”
“Well, you’re not the only one who can pull off super sneaky. Plus my mum did most of the actual organisation,” I remark, suddenly wondering how the hell my mother actually managed to pull off my baby shower and this without so much of a complaint. I think I would have had a nervous breakdown by now. I make mental note that I need to organise something epic for her to say thank you.
“Seriously, though, Abs, you should be resting not throwing me parties,” Taylor says.
“Well, when you said you had never had a birthday party before, I thought it was high time you had one. Though this is somewhat fancier than what I originally envisioned. The first venue fell through at the last minute and we got this because some poor bride had to cancel her wedding,” I explain. Eek, I still feel kind of bad that her misery helped us out.
“This is amazing, Abs,” Taylor says wrapping his arms around me. “Have I told you lately just how much I love you, Mrs Hudson?” Taylor rubs his nose gently against mine.
“Hmm, not really,” I respond jokingly.
“Well, I do. Every second of every minute of every day. My heart belongs to you.” Taylor brings his mouth down onto mine in a long, sensuous kiss that has me tingling over. His fingers run over my body and I have a feeling that this will get out of hand if I let it. With great reluctance, I pull back and give Taylor a rueful smile.
“You have an audience waiting for you,” I say with a smirk, “And I bet they are timing us.”
“Oh man. Please tell me I get to take you out of that dress later tonight though?” Taylor says wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Of course,” I respond with a sly smile, doing a twirl as I back away from him. “Right, get something on. There are a tonne of people here to celebrate with you and some people have flown a bloody long way to be here.”
“Like who?” Taylor asks with curiosity on his face.
“Like Eduardo and Graeme, from your time in Costa Rica, and Miguel from your Amazon trip,” I say. “I knew you were still in contact with them so I kind of hacked your Facebook account one day and got hold of them.”
“Bloody hell, Abs. That’s so awesome.” I can’t but grin at Taylor’s enthusiasm. He is just like a kid in a candy store. Taylor quickly changes his clothes, donning a more casual suit, though I’m a bit gutted he didn’t choose the sexy tux, before we quickly exit the cloakroom.
I turn to Taylor as he surveys the room and give him a quick peck on the cheek before I urge him to go and mingle. As he disappears into the crowd smiling, I feel a real sense of accomplishment.
“So the boy was happy with his surprise?” my mum whispers into my ear.
“So chuffed, Mum. I can’t thank you enough for helping to pull this off, especially as you did most of the work on top of my baby shower. I really have no idea how you do it,” I say.
“It’s my pleasure, darling,” she responds pulling me into her arms. I rest my head on her shoulder for a second until my father interrupts us with a couple of glasses of champagne.
“Come on, Abby. One glass isn’t going to hurt,” my dad insists. “Besides you don’t want to know what your mother and I got up to while she was pregnant with you, and you turned out pretty much okay.”
“Eew, Dad, that’s so gross,” I say making a disgusted face. “Really. Too. Much. Information.” My father continues to tease me so I stick my fingers in my ears and walk off in search of Michelle and Marc to thank them for their subterfuge today.
The evening goes by in a whirl of good music, laughter and exquisite fine dining. The lamb main course is melt-in-your-mouth soft accompanied by creamy potato dauphinoise and crunchy asparagus. The pudding is a sublime lemon sorbet that clears the pallet and gets everyone ready for the pièce de résistance, the real show-stopper for the evening. Taylor’s seven tier birthday cake is a masterpiece worthy of the finest pastry chefs in Paris.
The bottom layer is Kiri’s dark chocolate and chilli fudge cake. The next is Billy’s coffee and walnut creation decorated with an espresso glaze and chocolate-covered coffee beans. The next two layers have been made by Genevieve, an apple flan and a pineapple upside-down cake that were Taylor’s favourites growing up. Stix has also made a layer, determined to contribute to what is definitely a family affair. After days of practising, she finally produced something she was proud of, a delicious Victoria sponge. The final two layers were down to me and after much deliberation I settled on a tart au citron with Sicilian lemons and a tower of lavender-infused crème profiteroles. Each layer sits on a separate stand arranged in ascending height order in a spiral shape so that the overall effect is simply breathtaking.
Just before coffee is about to be served, the waiters wheel in the cakes to the song of ‘Happy Birthday’. It comes to stand in front of Taylor and I can see he is well and truly gobsmacked as I explain who has done what. Before he can say anything, I pull out a red velvet cupcake frosted with cream cheese icing and light the candle on top.
“Make a wish,” I say holding it out to him.
I watch as he screws his eyes up dramatically for show and then blows the candle out amid whoops and cheers. I’ve been a bit cheeky though and it is one of those candles that relights itself so just a he is about to put the cupcake down the flame reignites.
“I guess you’ll just have to make another wish,” I chuckle and Taylor repeats his action amid more laughter. This is repeated several more times until Taylor declares that he doesn’t need to wish for anything else as everything he ever wanted is standing here in this very room. He takes the candle out and dunks it into a water glass before taking a bite out of his cupcake and declaring it the best thing he has ever tasted.
The waiters wheel the cakes off to the side of the room and start preparing them so people can help themselves while the coffee is being served.
“Abs, this is truly amazing,” Taylor whispers in my ear. I give him a smile and tell him it was only what he deserved.
“What I said,” Taylor continues in a serious tone as he slips one arm around my shoulders and another comes to rest on my belly, “I meant it. Everything I want, that I need, is here with me already.”
We are so wrapped up in our little bubble of happiness that neither of us is aware of the icy silence that has fallen over the room until someone clears their throat. It’s only when I glance up that I realise the source. Standing in front of us just over ten feet away is a carbon copy of Taylor.
Richard is dressed identically to Taylor, has styled his hair exactly the same and if it weren’t for the subtle differences that I know to look for it would be like Taylor is looking in the mirror. No wonder people are wearing looks of astonishment on their faces; not many people are aware that Taylor even has a brother let alone someone who looks just like him.
I glance around the room wildly wondering for a moment who the hell let Richard in. But then of course common sense prevails; he looks exactly like the guest of honour so who would have even questioned it? It feels like a million questions are assaulting my brain. How did he know what Taylor would be wearing? Where did he come from? Has he been here the entire evening watching us? And lastly, what on earth is he going to do?
Taylor’s arm squeezes me protectively, moving me ever so slowly as he tries to position himself in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot several men advancing along the back walls. I try to keep my breathing steady as chills make their way through my body.
“Hello, Richard,” Taylor greets his brother calmly. I can’t believe how even his words are coming out when I can feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.
“Well, I see you started the party without me, brother,” Richard responds with a smile though the acid in his tone lets us know that he is far from happy.
“You weren’t invited,” Taylor responds evenly. I can feel the tension literally vibrating his frame but Taylor is giving nothing away.
“Think what you want, Richard, but you have never been my better half. Now, please leave. You are not welcome here.” Taylor’s voice is polite but his demeanour is firm.
“Oh I don’t think so, brother,” responds Richard with a mirthless laugh.
“Richard, this is your final warning,” Taylor snarls, all pretence of civility vanishing. “Leave now or I’ll have my security directly hand you over to the detective over there who has been tracking you over two continents.” Taylor waves his hand across at Detective Stanton, who is on her feet talking urgently into her phone.
“I don’t think so, brother,” Richard says once again and I wonder whether this is going to be his response to everything. “You see,” Richard continues, “We have unfinished business and that cunt is not going to stop me.”
I gasp at the crudeness of Richard’s use of the c-word. “Richard, just leave,” I say surprised at the firmness in my voice. “We don’t want any trouble.”
“Shut up, bitch!” Richard yells at me making me flinch. Richard’s hand disappears into his jacket pocket. A moment later he pulls out something black and I gasp as I realise what I’m looking at. A gun. No scratch that, a fucking terrifyingly black gun that is now pointed directly at Taylor.
Time seems to slow down as my heart pounds in my chest. I glance around the room wildly wondering how the hell we are going to get out of this situation. Black-clad figures start moving the guests back, silently ushering them out the back of the room while Richard’s focus remains on us. I see my mum struggling with someone, refusing to leave, and I try to silently communicate with my eyes that everything is going to be okay. The last thing I want though is for Richard to turn around and realise what’s happening so I remain quiet.