Live a little, she said, life's too short. Oh yeah, MacKenzie knew all too well how short life could be. Just five years before, she and Jason had celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary with family and friends. A great time was had by all. The evening had been perfect. She and Jason had danced together most the night, still just as much in love as the day they had exchanged vows. As they were leaving the venue, he had just collapsed.
Gone. The love of her life was gone. In an instant, everything had changed. The doctor had said it was a massive heart attack, that Jason was gone before he hit the floor. All she remembered was falling down next to him and crying on his chest one last time. A tear made its way down her cheek followed by another. With a deep breath, she collected herself, drying the few tears still falling.
A series of soft taps and her door easing open announced the arrival of Ella, her 20-year-old monkey. With what could only be described as a squeal, Ella rushed towards her. “Oh, Ma! Oh, you look so beautiful. Just look at you! My God, you look . . .”
She glared at Ella. “I look ridiculous!”
In an instant, Ella’s expression went from happy puppy to scolded puppy. She was such a sensitive kid. “I’m sorry. But really look at me. This is not me.” MacKenzie pleaded for some understanding.
Not to be deterred, she pushed on. Ella had her daddy’s stubborn streak; she certainly got everything else from her mama. “We’ve been over this. It’s been five years. He would want you to move on, to live your life, not just stay stuck in the past.” Ella embraced her for a soft hug and stepped back, looking her over. “Now we should get going. The doors will be opening soon.”
Clasping MacKenzie’s hand, Ella took exactly one and a half steps before she was brought to a stop by her non-moving mother. With a frustrated sigh, she turned.
“No.” MacKenzie shook her head. “I changed my mind. I can’t do this. I’m not ready.”
“Come on, you need to do this. It’s why we came here.”
“No, we came here to tour London, have some mother-daughter bonding time. I did not come here to play dress up and go to a ball. I’m not a fucking princess. You hoodwinked me into this goddamn ball, you and your brothers! I just want to stay here, drink beer, and watch the game. Is that too much to ask?”
“When you’re in London on New Year’s Eve? Yes! We’re here to have fun. Come on.” Ella gave a little tug to her mother’s hand.
“Fun? Fun? You call this fun?” She gestured to her get up. “This is not fun. I came here to see torture chambers, not be tortured with high heels, frilly dresses, makeovers, and this, this”—she batted the feather out of her face again—“this fucking feather!” She tore the offending headband off her head, threw it to the floor, and stomped on it for good measure.
With a small chuckle, Ella asked, “Feel better now? That was quite the tantrum. Channeling your inner teenager?” She grinned smugly.
“Bite me, bitch.” She teased.
“I love you too. Now let's get you straightened up so we can leave. Did I mention they have an open bar and buffet?”
“Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” MacKenzie grumbled. She snatched the headband off the floor and went to the mirror to fix herself.
“That’s the spirit. Here, let me help. I think you had it on backward before,” Ella offered. “Tonight is going to be great. A new year, a new beginning.” Ella beamed as she turned and all but skipped out of the room.
Yes, but the beginning of what? MacKenzie grabbed her purse and followed Ella toward the door. Well, here goes something . . .
MacKenzie entered the sitting area of their two-bedroom suite, making a beeline for the bar when Ella spoke up. “You have your checkbook, right?”
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth as she poured herself a healthy dose of courage in the form of whiskey. “I don’t know why I would need it, but yes, I have it.”
Ella sighed dramatically. “You know why you need your checkbook. We’re going to an auction. You bid, you win, you pay. You know how to do this. You go to book auctions all the time.”
Slamming the empty glass down, MacKenzie paused for a moment counting to ten, then turned to look at her daughter. “Yes, I know how they work, thankyouverymuch. I said I would go to this ball after you and your brothers tag-teamed me into submission. I never said I would do any bidding. Never. Not. Once.” She turned with the idea of another shot.
“Oh no you don’t.” Ela took the glass from MacKenzie, rinsing it in the sink. “You’re good. Let’s go. Doors are opening in fifteen minutes, and we need to get your paddle.”
“And I’ll use it to paddle your ass. How ’bout that?” MacKenzie grumbled as she followed Ela.
“Got your key?” Ella opened the door.
“Um . . .” She did a quick search of her clutch. “Yes. Why? Where’s yours?”
“Right here,” Ella said, lifting her own clutch. “I just thought when you win a dude, you might wanna take him back here and, ya know . . .” She shrugged. “So I wanted to make sure you had your key. Just put this on your bedroom door and I’ll know not to bother you.” Ella held up the Do Not Disturb sign with a proud smile.
MacKenzie stood there, mouth agape, eyes blinking. “You thought I . . . put the . . .” She shook her head, trying to make sense of what her foolish daughter had just said. “Let us get one thing crystal clear—I will not be taking anyone except you ‘back here’. I’m not even going to bid!”
“You say that now, but—”
“But nothing! We are going to this goddamn ball. I’m gonna get just shy of too drunk. We are going to watch the fireworks, yell ‘Hurrah!’, and come back here. No bidding, no men, no nothing of whateverthefuck else your cracked mind can possibly think of. No, just no.” MacKenzie walked past Ella, needing a few moments to herself.
She was seriously starting to rethink this whole thing. Yes, it was a good idea to dip her toe in the dating pool far away from home, without the added pressure of dating in a small town, but it was also… scary. Was she really ready? Would she ever be?
“We’ll see,” Ella mumbled softly while closing the door.
“I heard that!” Arriving at the elevator, MacKenzie pushed the button just a bit too roughly while mumbling under her breath.
When Ella caught up to her, she spoke softly. “Ma, please, we just want you to be happy. All you do is work and go home alone to that empty apartment. We worry about you.”
“Why? Afraid I might become a crazy cat lady? Let me ease your mind. I’m allergic to cats, so there’s no chance.”
“Well, you did just get that other snake.” Ella shivered.
“That’s different. They’re snakes. I’ve never heard of any crazy widowed snake ladies, so we're good.” MacKenzie said as the elevator arrived and she stepped into the car.
“That’s not what we’re worried about. The cat thing, I mean. We’re worried that you are going to be alone and lonely for the rest of your life.”
“Aren’t lonely and alone the same thing? Besides, I won’t be lonely or alone. I have you, Sam, and Jase. Jase and Matt are already talking about adopting; I’ll be a grandmother soon. I have the café. I have my friends. Really, Ella, there’s no need to worry about me.”
“Ma, I just think—” Ella paused when the elevator stopped on another floor, allowing a group of four ladies all dressed in 1920s apparel into the elevator. “If you could just meet a guy tonight and have a date, it would give you a boost to put yourself out there again,” Ella finished in a whisper.
“Have you and your brothers ever thought that maybe I don’t want to be ‘out there’? I had my guy, the love of my life, my one and only. No one will ever replace him. They couldn’t, and I don’t want them to. Now, please, just let it go,” MacKenzie whispered back, praying this would be the last she heard of it. She knew it wouldn’t be, but a gal could hope.
“But don’t you miss . . .” Ella paused again as they stopped on another floor, this time letting a pair of lad
ies, also in 1920s dresses, on. “. . . sex? It’s been five years.”
“I am not talking to you, of all people, about my sex life or lack thereof. Enough, Ella. One more word about me dating or any of the like, and I will go back to the suite.” Although she knew the kids were right and she did want to try, she just wasn’t sure the time was right. But would it ever be the right time?
Slumping in defeat against the back wall of the elevator, Ella expressed her final thoughts. “Fine. Whatever. Be alone and miserable for the rest of your life.”
Sighing, MacKenzie turned to face her daughter. Looking her in her eyes, she said, “I’m not alone. I’m not miserable. I’m fine, Ella. I am. I love that you and the boys care so much, but you don’t need to. I’m fine, really. I’m fine.” MacKenzie wondered who she was trying to convince, her daughter or herself. She was far from fine.
The elevator doors opened and their six companions rushed out of the elevator like a stampede of wild buffalo, turning right with squeals of delight. MacKenzie and Ella exited a few steps behind the other ladies, turned right, and bam! MacKenzie's face landed with a dull thud into a rock-hard midsection.
“Oh shit. Oh, I’m so sorry,” MacKenzie took a step back and looked up and up and into the most beautiful blue-green eyes she had ever seen. “I . . . oh wow, you have beautiful eyes.”
“My fault. I apologize, I thought that group of ladies were the only ones in the lift. I should have waited a bit longer. I’m in a rush, late for the . . .” He paused and looked up at a woman heading toward him “Auction. Here comes the ringmaster to collect her dancing monkey. Sorry to cut this short.” He took hold of MacKenzie’s hand bringing it to his lips. His breath warmed her hand before a kiss was placed just above her knuckles.
Did he just? MacKenzie felt goosebumps rise along her arm followed by a flutter in her belly.
“Perhaps we’ll meet again sometime.” Then he was gone.
“Oh. My. God! Ma, did you see that? You crashed into him, just like dad! He kissed your hand! He has an accent! I think he’s Scottish,” Ella said in an excited rush.
MacKenzie barely heard a word of what Ella said. She was staring at the man she was going to win tonight. MacKenzie smiled to herself and grabbed Ella by the upper arm “Come on, let's go. I have a paddle to get.” MacKenzie walked at a brisk pace for once, and Ella struggled to keep up.
“A paddle? You’re gonna get a paddle? You’re gonna bid?”
“Oh, I’m gonna bid, and I’m gonna win. Come hell or high water, I will scratch a bitch’s eyes out if I have to, but I am going to win that man.” MacKenzie headed for the table that seemed to be the place to get the paddles. Taking another glance back at the man with the beautiful eyes, she thought to herself, nothing wrong with a little something.
Chapter 3
Stepping into The Palm Court was like taking a step back in time. The roaring ’20s were alive and well here tonight. MacKenzie paused just a few feet inside, taking in the splendor. The chandeliers cast a twinkling glow about the venue; shades of cream and gold adorned the walls and pillars. Steps leading to a seating area currently being guarded by two burly men intrigued her.
Scanning the remainder of the room, she took in the ladies dressed as they were in jewel-toned gowns, some opting for the short flapper dress, others the long flowing gypsy-style gowns, every one of them stunningly beautiful in their own right. A waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses paused, allowing MacKenzie to take a glass. Ella, also taking the opportunity to partake in some bubbly, reached for a glass. MacKenzie stopped her with a hand on her forearm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” MacKenzie asked in her firmest have you lost your mind tone.
“Having some champagne.”
“You can’t do that. You aren’t old enough.”
“Maybe not in the US, but here I am.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.” She gave her daughter a sideways look.
“If she is eighteen, she is old enough.” The waiter helpfully confirmed Ella’s statement while handing her a glass.
“Fine, whatever. I’m going to need something stronger than this, however.” She lifted up her champagne glass.
“There is a full bar over there.” He pointed off to the right. With a smile and a quick glance at Ella, he walked away, weaving his way through the crowd.
Turning right, MacKenzie made her way to the bar, easing her way through the ever-growing crowd of women. A dozen or so stood in small groups, waiting their turn as two bartenders hurriedly served a wide variety of drinks. With a shrug, MacKenzie took a sip of her champagne.
“What are we getting to drink?” Ella asked in a peppy tone.
“I am getting a whiskey and soda. You can get a soda.”
“You heard the waiter. I am allowed to drink here.” She rolled her eyes.
“Just because you are allowed doesn’t mean you have to. I don’t want you slobbering drunk before the night even begins.”
“Don’t worry! I can handle some drinks. I don’t really like whiskey, though. Maybe a vodka drink. I like those Smirnoff coolers.” She trailed off, seeing her mother’s disapproving look.
Giving her daughter the look, she said, “I am going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that. I don’t want to know how, when, or where, but so help me, if your brothers are involved, heads will roll.”
“I’m just going to shut up now and enjoy this lovely champagne,” Ella said in an attempt to curb her mother’s fury.
“That would be a wise decision.” She approached the bar, leaning in a bit to give the bartender her order.
~*~
Sebastian leaned against the back wall of a conference room, looking over his competition for the evening. Most of the men appeared to be in their mid- to late-twenties, but a few could be as old as thirty-five. Sizing up the men, he thought himself on an even playing field as far as looks went. Sure, he had some slight graying at the temples, but it gave him a distinguished look. Thinking himself handsome was not being conceited; it was fact. He was, after all, a highly sought-after model. Continuing his observation of the other men and overhearing bits of conversations, he again thought to himself, what have I gotten myself into? The things I do for friends.
Secretly he was hoping there would be no interest in him, the one bachelor old enough to be a few of these lads’ father. A bachelor at almost fifty, he should be settled. He had been settled until she had fucked around again. Enough was enough.
I’m so tired of those women. They may have been beautiful on the outside, but inside lurked an ugly beast made of vanity and materialistic desires. No, never again. What Sebastian wanted, what he needed was something different, someone different. He remembered the lady at the lifts, her bright green eyes, pouty lips, a sweet voice, that curvy figure . . . she was certainly different from the women he’d been with before. Casting his eyes to the heavens, he silently prayed. Please let her be the only interested lady, he thought, quickly crossing himself.
He pushed himself off the wall and headed for a side table holding a variety of ales, lagers, water, and juices. He needed an ale and to promptly get his head examined for agreeing to this. Never again, he promised himself. Heading back the way he came with an ale in hand, Sebastian saw he now had company in wall support.
“Hey there, name’s Sebastian.” He held out his hand expectantly to a tall man looking just as thrilled to be there.
He grasped Sebastian’s hand in a firm handshake. “Hi, I’m Michael. So what brings you here tonight?” He said with a playful smirk.
“I’m a glutton for punishment and can’t say no to a friend.”
He chuckled. “That sounds like a problem you need to work on.”
“Right. I’ll get on that straight away.” He took a long drink and checked his watch. “Shite, it’s just about time for the madness to begin.”
As if on cue, the conference room door opened with the force of a mini tornado. A tiny blonde bundle of energy came cr
ashing into the room, her hands juggling a clipboard and a stack of papers. He shook his head and laughed internally. Amalia, you haven’t changed a bit. He cast a glance at his wall mate and saw the questioning look in his eyes.
“Before you ask, yes, she is always like that. How Eva gets anything done with Amalia as an assistant I will never understand.”
“You’d be surprised. Sometimes the most disorganized people are the most reliable. They may appear to be lost or overwhelmed, but really they are just thinking three or more steps ahead. It’s quite baffling, really,” Michael replied as Amalia got everything straightened out.
“Gentleman, can I have your attention, please? The auction is about to start. Please follow me.” Turning on her heel, she walked out the door with much more grace than her entrance.
Something Different Page 2
