by Daisy Allen
Not that he needs the signed checks of New York’s elite. He could spring for it out of his own piggy bank. But everybody with a fat bank account and a pretty face wants to be seen at these events, and we’re happy to give them an opportunity to give. They give us a blank check and we give them more champagne than they know what to do with and the positive publicity. I pat my tuxedo pocket for the list Patti tucked into it before I left the office. A piece of paper with the names of the ten potential donors I’m meant to work on tonight.
The traffic slows and I know we’re almost there. Jade was right about choosing the Plaza as the venue for tonight’s fundraiser. Why? Because the donors feel comfortable here, it’s like home. It’s almost like they forget they’re in public, dropping their fake smiles and not caring to hide their roaming hands from their spouses. Both husbands and wives, that is. I have had my share of wandering diamond covered fingers slide between my legs.
I take a deep breath and step out of the car, buttoning my suit coat as I look around.
"Xavier Kent," I tell the hostess handing her my invitation and she leads me inside.
"Mrs. Ashley asked me to tell you to please find her once you arrived," she tells me. Her eyes lock on mine a little too long. I take the moment to give her my own once over. Jet black hair, not natural. Tall, slim... too slim. I inwardly shrug and give her a nod to acknowledge her message.
I spot Jade as soon I step into the ballroom. She's gorgeous in a gold fitted Gucci gown. Apparently post pregnancy agrees with her. She smiles and runs over to me, and I can't help feeling my heart swell - both for my affection for her, and how much joy she's brought to Kaine's life.
"Hey there, heartbreaker," she says, leaning in to give me a kiss right on the cheek. No air kisses for her.
"Looking good, Mrs. Ashley. Where are you hiding those track pants Kaine tells me you've been living in since the birth?"
She pokes her tongue out at me, her eyes still sparkling.
"Oh, they're under here, holding in my wobbly belly." She grins as she peers closer at my face. "Wow, good job Patti did. You can barely see it."
My own smile turns into a scowl and I have to bite the side of my cheek to fight the urge to touch my lip or my tender eye.
"Barely see what?" I say, eyes narrowing.
"The Mac foundation stick No.4," Jade says, enjoying it all a little too much.
"I'm leaving! Where's the bar?"
"No, no bar for you! Mingling for you," she says, her voice getting serious. "You got your post-it?"
I pull it out of my pocket and give it a little wave.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Me too. I’ve got the Gottliebs. Ugh. I'm going to have to hear about how their son is dating some 47th in line to the Danish throne,” she whispers as she leans in, dropping her voice.
"Wanna swap? I got Mrs. Rumsford."
"Hell, no. Anyway, it's not what's in my pants that's going to get that big fat check from her.” She laughs as I curse under my breath. "Go. Do good." She pats me on the arm just as someone calls her name; she turns and disappears in a cloud of orange blossoms and chiffon.
"First stop. The bar," I tell myself. I'm going to need a drink to get through the night.
"Xavier! Xavier, darling!" I hear my name called. Fuck. Mrs. Rumsford.
"Yes? I am Xavier, how can I help you?" I say, plastering a blank look on my face and holding out my hand to the older woman approaching me.
"Oh, silly Xavier. It's me, Charlotte,” she says.
"Oh. No, I know Charlotte Rumsford, you can't possibly be her. You must be her gorgeous daughter who I've heard so much about."
"Oh, shush," she chuckles, hitting me on the arm, but clearly happy to accept the blatant flattery. "But speaking of my daughter," she says, turning to the striking blonde standing next to her. "Xavier, this is Miranda. She's just made partner at Hellen and Gunn. And she's single."
"Oh, nice to meet you Miranda. Your mother's told me a lot about you," I say holding out my hand. "Are you having a good night so far?"
If there is such a thing as permanent bitch face, this woman has it. She takes my hand, gives it a limp shake, before sighing and brushing the hair off her shoulder.
She's stunning. I'll give her that. But what's the point if she knows it.
"I'll leave you two to chat," her mother tells us, her eyebrows doing a similar dance to Jade's just minutes before. "Come find me after, Xavier. For my donation," she says pointedly, as if the size of that donation is contingent on the success of my conversation with her bitch-faced daughter.
"So, can I get you a drink?"
"Champagne," Miranda tells me, with a voice that sounds as bored as I am with her.
I tip my chin to a passing waiter and pull two champagne flutes off his tray.
"You don't seem too happy to be here," I say, handing the glass to her.
The side of her mouth lifts into a sneer, making the whole illusion of her beauty turn ugly.
"Why should I be? I'm just here to make sure my mother doesn't sign off my inheritance to the first boy toy to tell her something like... how she looks so young, they thought she was her daughter."
Touché.
"It's actually for the ASH Foundation, to build some youth centers,” I say, though I don’t know why. Something tells me she hates charity even more than boy toys.
"Well, yeah, because everyone knows my mother likes them young."
It takes everything I have to not outwardly roll my eyes. As much as I wasn't looking forward to having to deal with the elder Rumsford woman, I'd have taken a whole night of her over this sour puss any day. I take a breath. For the kids, Xave, for the kids.
"So, how do you like them, then?" I ask, with every last ounce of charm I can muster.
"I don't. I'm single,” she says like a warning. She needn’t have bothered.
"So, I've heard."
"By choice."
"I don't doubt it for a second. Because that'd be my choice. Steering well fucking clear of you, Miss Rumsford. Have a good night." I raise my glass to her, enjoying the sight of her jaw dropped wide open, and leave.
The next hour or so isn't as bad as the first encounter, and I'm finding I'm starting to enjoy myself. Or maybe it’s that the champagne is working. By the time I make my way around the room and the bell dings for everyone to take their seats at their dinner tables, I'm finding the schmoozing is becoming easier, and the checks in my pocket are getting bigger.
"Table 3," Jade whispers to me as she rushes past me on her way to the stage. What a surprise, I think to myself, scanning my tablemates. A gay couple, three divorcées and a widow.
I'm going to need more champagne.
I make my way back to the bar as the lights dim and the music fades out, calling everyone's attention to the MC.
"Welcome, everyone. To the ASH Foundation for Children."
There's a smattering of applause and I hang back, watching the show play out on the stage as I nurse a scotch.
"Hey," Kaine says, sidling up to me.
This must be worse for him than me. The famous recluse. As much as he's opened up since Jade, I know he's still not completely comfortable showing his face, with its scars, in public.
I tap my glass, and the bartender pours another drink and I hand it to Kaine.
"How's it going so far?" Kaine says before taking a sip.
"Not too bad."
"Think we'll hit our target?"
"Between my ass in these pants and Jade in her dress, we should be okay."
"You make it sound like I'm pimping out my wife and best friend."
"For charity," I tease him. "Relax. I think Jade's the one pimping us out, anyway. And it's fine."
"Jade says we got a lot of good sponsors this year," Kaine says, referring to the businesses who've donated goods and services for the silent auction.
"Yeah. She's good at that."
"You had a look at the list?"
"Why, is there something I might want?"
"I don't know. Do you want sailing lessons?"
"On the boat I don't have time to go out on?"
"What about an Herme's bag?"
"For the woman I don't have time to date?"
"Jade says there's an incredible interior designer offering a full house design. Maybe you can do something about that mausoleum you live in."
"It's minimalist."
"You're starting your own movement - emptyist."
"Fuck off. You have me working so hard, I'm barely there anyway."
"And the rest of the time you're at my place. Sitting on my furniture."
A woman in a cloud of sequins comes rushing towards us. It's Jade's assistant.
"Um, Mr. Ashley, your wife says, and I quote, 'tell my darling husband and his trusty sidekick to get their asses to their tables.'"
She throws her hands up apologetically and then rushes off again.
We down our drinks and wander off to our respective seats.
An hour and a half later and I'm ready to go home. I start to stand up, saying goodbye to my table companions just as Jade takes the stage. Shit. I can't leave now.
"Firstly, I'd like to thank you again, all of you, for joining us and showing your support for us tonight. This cause is so close to our hearts, and you have shown tonight that it's close to yours as well," Jade says, her hand on her chest as the applause rises and falls. "Well, it's come to that time of the night. The announcement of the winners of tonight’s amazing silent auction prizes. I’d like to acknowledge the sponsors who donated such generous gifts and their valuable time to help up reach our goal for tonight.”
Jade’s assistant comes onto the stage and hands her an envelope.
“The first prize we’d like to announce, is the services of Isabella Fountaine. One of Manhattan’s up and coming new interior designers. She has just been named as one of Architectural Digest’s “designers to watch” and has been so generous as to donate her services to design an entire home for our winner. But even more generously, she will also be donating her time to the design of our brand new youth centers. Isabella, would you like to join me on stage, please? While I make the announcement?”
A spotlight shines into the crowd. Like everyone else, I turn towards it, trying to make out the figure being singled out, and walking to the stage.
Through the bobbing heads, I can just make out a lock of blonde hair.
Something inside me stirs.
No.
The light continues to move but I can’t get a clear view.
“Come on,” I whisper, willing her to move faster. Once she gets to the steps up to the stage I’ll be able to see-
Fuck.
No.
Fuck!
Yes.
It’s her.
I watch as she lifts the skirt of her dress and takes the four steps onto the raised stage and floats across it until she reaches Jade.
I’m winded. I haven’t moved, but the air is knocked out of my lungs.
It really is her.
“Isabella… thank you against so much,” I can just make out Jade saying. Wait. What? She called her Isabella. That’s not… that’s not her name.
Maybe it isn’t her? No, it is. It definitely it.
I watch as she leans towards the microphone and I hold my breath.
“I’d like to thank the ASH Foundation for all the good work you do,” she says, and now there’s no doubt.
Everything’s suddenly a blur as I watch Jade tear open an envelope, smiling and opening her mouth to speak.
“Wait!”
I find myself on my feet.
There’s confusion on the stage, and then I feel the heat of the spotlight on me.
“Xavier?” I see Jade mouth.
“I… I’ll double it. The bid.” I hear myself saying.
“Um, I’m sorry, Xavier, bidding time is over.”
“Then triple it. I don’t care. Whatever it is.” There’s a murmuring from the crowd.
“I – uh, well, this is unprecedented. I’m…” Jade says, flustered.
The woman shields her eyes as she looks out into the sea of tables, looking for me. The second our eyes lock, I know. Whatever she calls herself now. I still know. It’s her.
“I don’t care how much it costs.” The crowd is restless, trying to figure out what’s going on.
They’re not the only ones.
So, I make it clear.
“I want her. She’s mine.”
Three
Her
12 years ago
The bell hanging over the door dings as I enter the ice cream parlor two blocks from my high school. The walls, each painted a different color, are covered in faded posters of different types of sundaes and milkshakes.
“Hey, Malynda, I saved you a seat over here,” Randi calls over to me, waving me to her table. I wander over, pushing myself through the crowd. It’s only mid-April and already the temperature is in the high 70’s. The snow has long ago melted, spring has settled in early this year, and Mainers are taking advantage of the sun.
I drop my backpack onto of the pile of bags in the corner and flop down onto my seat.
“I didn’t think I’d see you,” Randi says, handing me a spoon and pushing her sundae over to me. It looks good. So good, I’m almost tempted to take a bite. But I know better. I promise myself, in one month I can have all the ice cream I want.
“Yeah, I was supposed to have an extra dance training session tonight, but my partner bailed.”
“Really? I thought he would’ve needed it even more than you.”
“That’s just it, I think he’s given up.”
I sink back into my seat thinking about Pierre, my partner for the contemporary dance I have planned for the end-of-year showcase. Until I have an acceptance letter to the college of my choice in my hand, I’m not giving up. I know recruiters are still roaming the schools, looking for their next class of freshmen.
Until I have that acceptance, I can’t let up. That includes no ice cream.
I reach for the bottle of water in my backpack, looking around. It’s 4 p.m. and there’s barely anyone here that I don’t recognize. The crowd is made up mostly of juniors and seniors from my school.
“Psst. Stalker, 3 o’clock,” I hear Randi’s voice whisper into my ear. I instantly turn my neck to the right. But I don’t see anything but groups of familiar faces.
“What? Where?” I crane my neck to the left.
“Oh, shit, he’s gone. A guy was seriously giving me creeper vibes, staring at us.”
“You think everyone’s staring at you,” I say, only slightly envious of her blue eyes and perfect pout.
“Yeah,” she grins, “but this time, I said us. You included.”
“Well, now I know you’re nuts. No one ever notices me when you’re around.”
“Shut up, you’re fucking beautiful. And your body looks like your Dad had sex with a cheetah. All sleek and gorgeous.”
“Ew. Thanks for that imagery.” I shake my head to clear it.
“Shush, there he is again!” she squeaks and points toward the counter.
I look up, just in time to see a pair of deep green eyes staring at me before the gap of talking heads closes in again, and they’re gone.
I feel like an entire bucket of ice water has just been dumped over my head; and I keep looking, hoping to catch another look at him.
“Creepy, huh?” Randi says, through a mouthful of ice cream and nuts.
“Um…” ‘Creepy’ wasn’t what I wasn’t the vibe I was getting. More like curious, intrigued.
“Do you know him from somewhere? Have you seen him around?” she asks, twirling her spoon in the air.
I don’t recognize him from anywhere. But he looked like he knew me. Intimately.
“Er, no.” I force myself to turn back towards her, keeping my voice light. “Do you?”
“Nope, but don’t worry, we’ll protect you. Right, guys?” Randi shouts to the group sitting aro
und the table.
“What? What’s going on?” Jack asks, sitting forward in his seat, his unzipped jacket falling open, as if he’d only just noticed us sitting there.
“Some creepster is starting at us, but I just told Malynda that you’ll take care of us.”
“Oh yeah, hey… don’t be scared,” he reaches over and lays a hand on my shoulder, and I try not to shrug it off. “I’ve got you. I promise not to take my eyes off you, babe.”
I don’t know how I hold back an eyeroll, but I do.
We hang around for another hour and the crowd dissipates, but the owner of the eyes never reappears. It’s close to five when we all get up, picking up our bags off the pile in turn. I feel a sweaty hand grip the back of my neck.
“Hey, babe, I’ll see you in history tomorrow, okay?” Jack finishes his promise with a wink, thankfully pulling his hand away before I have to push it away. Ever since the one disastrous date we went on a few weeks ago, I’ve had a hard time avoiding him.
“Um, sure. See ya,” I say, keeping my voice as flat as possible.
I hang back, not wanting to have to spend another second in his presence.
“Need a ride?” Randi asks, as she pulls her hair into a ponytail.
I give her a grateful smile. “No, I’m going to walk home, to make up for the missed work out.”
“Okay, call me if you want to chat later.”
I give her a wave and watch as the door closes behind her.
The silence is calming. It’s only me and the owner behind the counter, wiping dry some clean glasses.
I sit and watch as the second hand makes a full turn around the clock, half waiting for Jack to be gone, half hoping maybe if I wait just one more minute, Mr. Green Eyes will make another appearance. The owner throws me a glance, though, that tells me he’d rather I go.
I sigh and push myself to my feet, hooking my hand into my backpack’s strap. Just as I reach for the door handle, there’s a loud shout from outside, and another one follows it right away, and then a round of yells. I turn to look at the owner, who just shrugs, and goes back to his work. I tug on the door and run outside to see what’s going on.
