“My brother wouldn’t tell me anything about her. . .Lo-la. Ugh. Just her name makes me sick.”
It was Molly’s voice speaking. Except this time, her voice didn’t hold the same ring of insincerity I heard in it before. This time she sounded completely honest.
I guess it didn’t surprise me that it was Annika’s voice I heard next.
“It’s okay, Mol. He told me everything last night.”
“What did he say to you?”
Annika sighed. “Long story. But to sum it up really prettily, it doesn’t have a happy ending for Gabe and me.”
I peeked around the corner. I could only view Molly’s features from where I was standing. And her eyes were slit as if she were seething.
“Who does she think she is, anyway, coming here and screwing everything up? I was supposed to be your bridesmaid, for crying out loud.” Pouting, she added, “I had your entire wedding planned out.”
“She doesn’t know, supposedly.”
Molly choked on her champagne. Coughing, she asked, “What do you mean she doesn’t know?”
“Apparently she doesn’t have her memories.”
Molly’s eyes widened, and her brow furrowed subsequently. “Oh, what a load of crap. I don’t believe that for a second. And even if it was true- and that’s a really big if, she still just can’t show up and start causing trouble for you.”
“I agree, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
Molly twirled a curl of blonde hair in her fingers as she scanned the ballroom. “Where is she, anyway? Maybe I can have security toss her out on her ass.” Molly giggled, amused by her own suggestion. “I’d have to do it while no one is looking, of course.”
“No, don’t,” Annika said. “It’s not worth it and my grandmother would know. Not that I really care what Miriam thinks right now. I know she’s been lying to me this whole time.”
“Why do you think so?”
Annika shook her head. “I just have this feeling. And my feelings are never usually wrong.”
Molly smoothed Annika’s hair. “I’m sorry, Anni. My brother is a dumb jerk for breaking your heart.”
I couldn’t tell, but I think Annika smiled at Molly’s comment.
“And if it makes you feel better,” Molly continued, “I don’t know what Gabe sees in that girl, anyway. Did you know she’s of Moori blood? It’s disgusting. All that family is known for is for thieving and whoring. But they dress it up real nicely by classifying themselves as ‘entertainers.’”
My hands balled into tight fists at my sides. A rush of heat warmed my face and neck. After hearing what I’d just heard, I was itching to smash my fist into Molly’s bratty little face. Even though I’d never been really good at throwing punches, I figured I could probably do some damage to her if I put my whole body into it. She was tiny, after all. I bet I could even knock her to the ground.
I stomped into the carpet, trying to vent some of my anger. It was taking everything I had in me not to go over there where she stood. It was one thing to talk about me. But how dare she talk about my family that way! Who did she think she was?
Okay, well some of it was true. I could admit that to myself. But most of it was way over-exaggerated and entirely uncalled for.
It pissed me off even more when I felt a stinging at my eyes. I couldn’t believe I’d let her upset me to this extent. It also bothered me to no end that I didn’t understand half of what they were talking about. What did she mean when she said she didn’t know what Gabe sees in me? He’d never acted like he was even remotely interested in me before. Okay, so he showed up at Miriam’s house last night to rescue me. But how could Molly and Annika think that he had some kind of hidden agenda for doing so? How could they believe there was any other reason beyond the fact that Gabe was just being a nice guy? Geez, he was just doing the right thing! Anyone who was good and who had the kind of sight Gabe possessed would have done the same. As far as I was concerned, I believed they were looking way too far into it.
But then there were those other things they said. . .about me not knowing and not having my memories.
No one knew that about me. . .so how did they? And out of all people, how on earth would Gabe know that I didn’t have my memories? I contemplated on whether or not I’d ever told Miriam before. I didn’t think I did, but then again, I didn’t remember it ever being brought up.
Zetta knew. My father knew. I was pretty sure they were the only people who did. Did either of them ever tell Miriam? My head was starting to hurt from all the confusion.
I decided to look for a server in order to grab another glass of champagne. At least for now, I had my temper under control. I should probably stay away from Molly- and her security guards, for that matter.
I wanted answers to my questions and I really didn’t feel like waiting. I thought about approaching Gabe outright, but I didn’t know what I would say.
I could just picture myself now, saying something along the lines of, So while I was spying on Molly and Annika, I heard some interesting things and I was wondering if you could explain them. I could almost guarantee that wasn’t the best way to get answers.
I supposed I could approach Miriam about it. Annika did mention something about her knowing more than what she’d let onto. But I figured it should probably wait until after the party or maybe even tomorrow. I didn’t want to ruin Miriam’s fun and at the same time, I felt like I needed a clear head in order to process whatever she could tell me. I was tired of feeling like I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I wanted to make sure she would spill whatever she knew.
Eventually, I found a server carrying a champagne tray right as I bumped into Drew Baskerfield. It seemed he was headed for the same tray.
“Hey, there.” He smiled at me, making him appear much more handsome. “Did you change your mind about dancing?”
I smiled back, happy to be around his carefree nature for the moment. He was just being nice. And after listening to people talk shit about me behind my back for the last few minutes, it felt really good to know that someone was being genuinely sweet to me. And maybe I’d been too hard on Drew earlier. What would one dance hurt, anyway? It was a party, after all. . .
FIFTEEN
Thankfully, it turned out that I wasn’t completely horrible at dancing. I even thought it was kind of fun. “Okay, so you have to follow my lead,” Drew had informed me, thinking it was a great responsibility to teach someone to dance for the first time.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” I asked when he accidentally stepped on my foot.
“Ahem.” Drew coughed. “I was just making sure you were paying attention to my instructions.”
I laughed. Eventually, we picked up the beat and he led me into a waltz. It was really nice. It felt very classic, very regal, just like I’d imagined a dance at a ball would be like. And later on, the band played some modern music and we just decided to go crazy, making up our own dance moves. Between the laughing and the dancing, I was having a blast. And it almost made me forget everything else. I almost forgot about Gabe.
Almost.
Casually, Drew mentioned, “He’s going to kill me, you know.”
“Who is?”
The band started playing a ballad. He took me by the waist and led me in for a slow dance. Our breathing was still heavy from jumping around during the last song.
“Gabe.”
“What, why?”
“Well, for one, he is staring daggers at me right now. I kind of get the feeling that it has something to do with you.”
I looked around Drew’s head. Sure enough, Gabe stood not far from the dance floor, leaning casually against the wall and staring directly at us. He was surrounded by a group of people. One guy appeared like he was trying to get Gabe’s attention, though it was lost on him.
I looked back to Drew, shrugging my shoulders. At the same time, an unexplained feeling of exhilaration crept through my stomach- as if I were delighted by the fact that Gab
e was paying so much attention to me.
“I have no idea why he cares who I’m dancing with,” I said to Drew. “Maybe he’s just lost in thought?”
“Hmm. . .is that why he’s headed this way right now?”
I leaned over Drew’s shoulder, trying to get a better look. Gabe wasn’t leaning against the same wall anymore. I scanned the ballroom, but couldn’t find him anywhere in sight.
“Sorry, Baskerfield. Lola promised me her next dance.”
I stilled, feeling the reverberations of his deep voice grab me with each word. He’d snuck up on us from behind. Drew appeared flustered with Gabe all but cutting in on him like that. He grumbled as he walked away, but surprisingly didn’t contend the issue. He simply left, without even waiting for my own consent to this supposed dance I’d promised Gabe.
I frowned, unhappy with the situation. In fact, I was confused as hell and getting more and more tired of it by the minute. “I most certainly did not promise--”
“Save your arguments, Lola. He’s already gone.”
And with that said Gabe took hold of my hand and pulled me towards the veranda.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Afraid I’ll ruin your shoes with my clumsy feet?”
I wasn’t sure why, but I was enormously intrigued. I decided to be honest with Gabe by asking, “Why do you want to dance with me?”
He shrugged. “I happen to enjoy dancing every now and then. Also, I asked the band to play the next piece. I figured I should show my appreciation.”
As soon as he said it, the tune of a piano started to play. Gabe pulled me towards him, placing one of my arms along his shoulder and taking my free hand in his. I felt a small tingle travel down the length of my spine. I had never been this close to him before. Inexplicably, it was almost like there was an electric current within the warmth of his hand.
“That doesn’t explain why you asked me,” I pointed out. “You could have asked any number of girls.”
“You were already dancing, and you looked like you were enjoying it.”
I lifted a brow, still very curious about his actions, but he was making it obvious he wasn’t going to take my questions seriously.
Without thinking, I asked, “Do you like me?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I immediately regretted the question. I figured I could shock him by being blunt. But I ended up only shocking myself.
Gabe only smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Of course I like you, Lola,” he answered me.
I swallowed. “You know what I meant.”
I was suddenly caught off guard by a harmony within the music being played. It brought on an achingly recognizable impression within me. Like I had instinctively known how the next verse sounded. I halfway closed my eyes, concentrating on the sound. A hidden meaning felt so close, like if I could just reach out and grasp it, I might understand. . .
“The tune of this music sounds so familiar,” I mentioned aloud.
“I doubt you know it. It’s not a common piece.”
“No, I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”
Very slowly, he twirled me underneath his arm. His eyes never left mine for a moment.
Those eyes.
It was difficult to understand; it was as if looking into Gabe’s eyes was like looking into a million different emotions. There was so much depth, and the darkness of his eyes didn’t conceal it.
As the distant melody of the lullaby hummed on, something strange happened.
There was a part of the music that triggered it. In my head, I could hear words being sung aloud, even though there were no words being sung. Suddenly, an image struck me hard.
It was him.
It was. . .Gabe.
I could see him vividly. We were in some sort living room. It was raining outside and I was sprawled across a cushioned window seat, lazily watching water droplets trickle down the length of the windowpanes. And that’s when I heard the baritone of his voice. He was singing. For some reason, the sound of his voice made me smile. . .it was because the song was for me. I instinctively knew this.
Turned, I noticed him about two feet away from me, sitting at a pianoforte. His face- his beautiful face didn’t hold the grave expression I'd become used to. He was actually smiling. Singing and smiling.
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Reality. It washed over me quickly as the beautiful dream vanished.
I looked up into Gabe’s eyes, noticing his anxious expression. I wondered if he was waiting for me to speak.
“Um, no. . .I just spaced out for a second.”
“Oh.” His voice seemed tinged with disappointment. Oddly out of place.
As we lingeringly danced around the veranda, I tried to dislodge the hauntingly beautiful dream from my mind. It wouldn’t do me any good to create fantasies of Gabe writing songs for me, which was furthest from his persona in any sense.
Yet, he was just too close. He was so close I could breathe in his clean, spicy scent, so strangely alluring. I suppose I never imagined what Gabe would smell like before, but I somehow knew the intoxicating scent- his scent.
The tempo of the music picked up and before I knew it, Gabe was twirling me around the veranda.
With each beat I began to hear whispers.
Laughter.
I could hear tears of pain and tears of joy.
The tempo increased as the music neared its climax.
Suddenly there were all these different images, like pictures flashing in front of my eyes. A distant pain seemed to pulsate in my head, like there was something inside of me about to unleash.
There were so many images of him- of Gabe. I could see him smiling, laughing. It didn’t make sense. This man never smiled. And he never laughed! A chilling sensation moved down my spine and I could suddenly see Gabe in my arms, his eyes filled with passion.
Quickly, I released my hold from Gabe’s arm and forcefully pushed him away from me.
“Lola, are you alright?”
I closed my eyes, willing the images to disappear. It proved to be a bad idea because the images only multiplied with intensity. I suddenly knew what it was like to make love to the man standing before me, when I'd never experienced anything like that in my life! I was still innocent, in that way. But yet, I knew, I just knew what it was like to have Gabe hold me in his arms, while we both trembled from the intensity of our. . .love.
My God, was I in love with Gabe?
Slowly, I backed away from him. This was crazy. It was madness. I barely knew Gabe. Somehow, I must have conjured up these fake memories out of some strange attraction I felt towards him.
But as I watched him watching me, I could see a sort of realization dawn on him. He could see my eyes had grown wide. He could see the disbelief written on my face.
And I could see that he knew something I didn’t.
I kept walking backwards until I bumped against the railing.
“You need to breathe, Lo.” His voice seemed to be filled with a quiet understanding. I could hear it when he spoke. He knew what was happening. He knew what I was. . .remembering.
“Lo?” he asked painfully.
I winced before I spoke. “Yes?”
“Breathe, okay?”
I nodded dimly. “I keep forgetting.”
He started to walk towards me, but I held up my hand in front of me. “Please, just stay where you are.”
Gabe respectfully kept his distance. Carefully, I scrutinized him from head to toe. He was the epitome of perfection. He didn’t look quite the same as the mental images in my head. Each version was slightly different from each other. But there were so many similarities. He always had dark hair and gray eyes. In some images, he had longer hair. In others, it was cut short. His jaw was always square and firm. Yet there were slight differences in each face. However, some things remained the same for every version of him.
In every image Gabe’s body was usually lean and sli
ghtly muscled. In some images, his entire body was bigger, rock-hard, as if his daily routine had forced him into the mass of muscles. And in some of my images, he was built a bit leaner, but never too thin or too out of that same Gabe-like character.
No matter how much I wanted to disbelieve what I had seen in my head, I knew it was him.
It was always Gabe.
With that same knowledge, a basic instinct told me that the man standing in front of me held every piece of my heart, my soul. This man could be the end of everything I’d ever believed, everything I’d ever known.
I wanted to say something- anything. But I didn’t know where to begin. How could he have loved me and held me like I saw in my mind. . .and let me go on not ever knowing? How could he do that? I could feel to the depths of my being that whatever it was we had shared, it was something momentous. So how could he let me go on as if the existence of what we shared was insignificant?
And how could I. . .
Forget?
Something twisted inside my stomach painfully. It was too much. His eyes implored mine as if he were waiting for a declaration. But what was I supposed to declare? I couldn’t bear it; I needed to leave. I had to get out of there.
“I’m sorry,” I hastily told him, picking up the skirting of my dress and running for the door.
I ran inside the ballroom, through the massive crowd. I pushed my way through the people, maybe a little too aggressively. Some of the onlookers might have thought I was rude. I didn’t care. Even if I did look like a lunatic. I just kept my eyes focused on the door, as if it were my salvation.
“Lola!” I heard Gabe call from behind me. I knew he was chasing after me and I wished he wouldn’t. I just needed a moment to absorb everything. I needed time before I had to look into his knowing eyes again. Especially when I could see that he was looking at me like he somehow knew all the pieces of me- and I guess he somehow did.
The thought terrified me.
I made it through the entrance and down the staircase into the foyer. Once outside, I ran with all my might, heading absolutely nowhere.
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