Moments Of Beauty

by J B Heller

  She spins around and I see tears in her eyes, right before he takes her in his arms and she wraps hers around him, and holds on tight.

  A rock settles in my stomach.

  Of course, she’s with someone.

  I turn and cut for the exit. I can’t do this. I can’t see her with another man. It’s too much.

  Before I reach the glass doors that lead to my salvation, Bee steps out in front of me.

  My eyes narrow, “You did this.” My tone is flat, unyielding.

  She swallows, “Yes, it ah, it didn’t exactly go as I planned.”

  “You bet your arse it didn’t!” comes from behind Bee.

  When Bee steps to the side so she can look at both of us, and I lay my eyes on the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen, my anger washes away as quickly as it came.

  We stare at each other, wordless.

  She’s cut her long hair, it now rests just above her shoulder. She’s wearing a brilliant red dress that flares out and stops just above her knees. My eyes travel the length of her body, reacquainting myself with her soft curves.

  I notice her breathing change as she stares at me in return. Her chest heaves with each breath she draws.

  Licking my lips, I decide it’s now or never, “Hey, El,” I say softly.

  Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, “That’s all you have to say to me? Hey, El. Are you serious?” Her voice rises with each word.

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” Bee says, but we both ignore her.

  I shrug, “I don’t know what to say, it’s good to see you, I think?” I scratch my neck, is it good to see her? Fucked if I know.

  She steps forward, wraps one of her tiny hands around my bicep and drags me out of the gallery. It’s weird how I can feel the heat of her hand, even through the layers of my clothing.

  Once the door is closed behind us she swings around so she’s facing me again, and she’s fuming. “What the hell is that in there, Hux? Who is Hadley? What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”

  Jesus, I always loved it when she said fuck, and apparently, I still do. I can’t help the small smile that picks up the corner of my lips.

  Her eyes get wider, “Stop smiling!”

  And I smile wider, I can’t help it, I’ve missed her.

  I know she’s with someone, but fuck it, I have to hold her. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her.

  At first, she stiffens, but after a moment she relaxes and lifts her hands to the back of my shoulders, and breathes what I hope is a sigh of relief. “I’ve missed you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “Hmm,” she murmurs against my chest.

  I don’t know how long we’ve been standing here, just holding each other. But I know my time has come to an end when she begins to pull away from me.

  “Now talk, Hux,” she says, and her voice is emotionless.

  It’s like a slap to the face, she’s put up a wall. Just like I used to do to her. It doesn’t feel so great being on the receiving end. I rub the back of my neck with one hand, and rest the other on my hip to keep from touching her again.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” I tell her.

  She snorts, “I’m the events coordinator, at my grandparent’s hotel, how could you not know that I would be here?” she says. It’s clear she doesn’t believe me.

  “I didn’t even know the exhibition was being held at Quinn Plaza until yesterday, I don’t organise the shows. It’s Bee’s—it’s Bee’s job,” and the realisation that my best friend betrayed me is a knife to the gut, I swear under my breath.

  “If you really didn’t know, what’s with that picture?” she says.

  Both my hands are on my hips now, and I look down at my feet as they shift beneath me, “In one way or another, you’re the centre of every show,” I tell her honestly.

  Waiting for Eliza to say something is killing me, “Say something, please.”

  When I lift my eyes, she’s just standing there, blinking at me.

  “El,” I try but she puts her hand up, cutting me off.

  “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore. To you, I am either Eliza, or Miss Quinn.”

  That hurts, but I’ll take it, “Okay,” I agree.

  “Why?” she demands.

  I frown, “Why, what?”

  “Why am I the centre of every show? You left me, remember? You walked away from me. So why am I the centre piece? Is it some sick way of reminding yourself where you came from? Is that it?”

  I’m taken aback, “What? No! Why would you even think that?”

  She throws her arms in the air, “I don’t know, Hux, or is it Hadley now? You show up after five years without so much as a phone call and tell me I’m the centre of all your shows. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Fuck,” I run my hands through my hair, “I don’t fucking know! I don’t know, El.” Realising my slip, I correct myself before she has a hissy fit, “I mean, Eliza. I never expected to see you again. I didn’t think I’d ever have to explain it to you. So, I really don’t know what to tell you.”

  I shake my head as my frustration builds, “You’re the centre because, because you’ve always been my centre. Without you, there is nothing else. Without you, none of it matters. It’s all I had left of you, those pictures. They remind me what I’m striving for, what I’ll always be striving for.” I’m panting by the time I finish my tirade, although it wasn’t supposed to be one. I was just trying to explain.

  Her eyes are shining again, and it’s my fault. All I do is hurt her.

  “Wh—,” she clears her throat, “What are you striving for, Hux?” she asks as she runs her palms down the front of her pretty dress.

  “To be better, to be worthy,” I tell her, my own emotions are becoming hard to contain, and I know I need to cut this short before I break down in front of her.

  But before I can ask her to meet me tomorrow to talk about everything, the guy from earlier opens the glass door, “You okay, Liza?”

  She looks at me and the sadness in her eyes is crippling, then she straightens her shoulders and turns to the guy, a bright, fake, smile on her face, “Yep, I was just talking to Mr. Hadley about the show, it was a little loud in there after the unveiling. We’ll be right in.”

  I hate that smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice how fake it is, he just eyes her for another minute then finally nods and goes back inside the gallery.

  I shake my head, “I don’t think I can go back in there.”

  Eliza shifts her gaze back to me and narrows her eyes, “Oh yes you will. If I have to get through tonight, then so do you. People are counting on you, don’t disappoint them.” Then she walks back through the glass doors, leaving me alone.

  I want to hit something, or better yet, someone. That guy by her side preferably. My hands clench into fists by my sides and I shake them loose, this isn’t the time or place for irrational, impromptu beat downs.

  “Come on, Hux, get your shit together,” I mutter to myself, then take a deep fortifying breath, push the glass doors open, and take a leaf out of Eliza’s book by plastering a fake smile on my face.

  A waitress crosses my path and I don’t hesitate to take not one, but two glasses of champagne and down one immediately. I give her back the empty crystal flute, and take another, “Thanks,” I murmur before I down the second.

  Her eyes widen, “Are you okay?” she whispers.

  “Nope, not at all. Thanks for asking,” I say as I take yet another flute from her tray.

  “You might want to slow down, buddy, the brunette over there looks like she’s coming to skin you alive.” Then she scurries away, just as I feel Bee’s approach.

  “What are you doing?” she hisses in my ear.

  “I think it’s quite obvious. I’m getting drunk,” I quip.

  Bee clenches her jaw as her eyes flick around the room, no doubt noting who is paying attention to this little scene. I say nothing, I’m beyond pissed with he
r. How could she not have at least warned me before I walked in here?

  “Did you not learn anything last night?” she seethes.

  I glare at her, “I’d say the situation calls for it. I’ll deal with the consequences later. After all, I just saw the love of my life for the first time in five years and she fucking hates me. So thanks for that.” I down another glass of champagne as I watch several emotions cross her face.

  She ends on deflated, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would go like this.”

  I raise a brow, “And how exactly did you think it would go? She’d forgive me for walking away from her? That she’d launch herself into my arms and proclaim her undying love for me? Seriously, Bee, I’m curious, how did you think it would go?”

  An older man in a tux approaches from the side and I attempt to compose myself, “Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Victor Quinn. I wanted to compliment you on your unique perspective. It hints at an appreciation beyond your years.”

  I’m honestly flattered, this man, Eliza’s grandfather, is a respected name in the photography community. He features different artist and photographers in each of his hotels. His support has launched the careers of more than a few.

  To have him recognise my work is, well, it’s pretty amazing. “Thank you, I’m honoured,” I hold my hand out to shake his, “I’m Hux, or Hadley, whatever you’d prefer to call me, Sir.”

  He takes my hand in a firm shake, “Call me Victor,” he says, “It’s getting a bit late for this old man, what do you have planned for breakfast, Hux?”

  His question takes me by surprise, “I ah, no plans, Sir, ah, sorry, Victor.” The champagne has already gone to my head and I sound like a fool.

  Victor grins at me, “Might want to slow down, son, I have a feeling you won’t want to be hungover for our breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Our breakfast?” I ask dumbly.

  His hand clasps my shoulder, “Yes, son, meet me in the restaurant tomorrow morning at eight.” He smiles, making the skin around his eyes crinkle, “I’d consider switching to water unless you want to be nursing a hangover when I make you an offer I don’t think you’ll want to refuse,” he says with a wink, then he claps my shoulder twice and walks away.

  I’m standing there slack jawed when Bee erupts, “Oh, my god!”

  I nod numbly, Victor Quinn wants to have breakfast with me and make me an offer I can’t refuse. Holy. Shit.

  Here I am trying not to have a panic attack and Hux is over there talking to my grandfather like nothing happened. Like I’m not even here. I want to know what they’re talking about, so I casually close the distance between us.

  I’m eavesdropping and I don’t even care. I only catch the end of their conversation, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. Grandfather wants to meet with Hux and, oh no.

  Grandfather has been talking about rotating the current art works we have displayed throughout the hotel for a while now, but he hadn’t found what he wanted to replace it with yet.

  As soon as Grandfather has walked away, and I’ve pulled myself together I blurt, “You have to say no.”

  Hux spins around and says, “What? Why?”

  I didn’t mean to say that out loud, shit. I fumble for words, “You can’t, I mean, no, that’s what I mean. You have to say no. When he asks you to stay on, to display in the hotel, you have to say no.”

  Hux frowns, “And why would I do that? Being associated with Victor Quinn will do amazing things for my career. I’d be a fool to refuse him.”

  I can’t think of a good answer right now so I say, “Because, you can’t just show up out of the blue and expect everything to be fine and dandy.”

  His eyes narrow on me, “I never said I expected anything. So maybe you should stop jumping to conclusions.”

  I eye the champagne flute in his hand and the remark slides right off my tongue, “Taking after Daddy I see, turning to alcohol instead of dealing with your problems like a big boy.” It was a cheap shot, and I want to take it back as soon as the words leave my mouth.

  Hux has never looked at me the way he’s looking at me right now, I can feel the pain my words inflicted in my bones. I reach for his arm, to apologise, but he pulls away from me.

  “No,” he says, and I feel that one word down to my toes, “you don’t get to judge me.” His nostrils flare with the effort its taking for him to keep his composure, “I’m going to go talk to whoever it is I have to, and you, you’re going to stay the hell away from me for the rest of the night.”

  Then he’s storming across the other side of the room, picking up another champagne flute from a passing waitress as he goes.

  Tears pool in my eyes, I can’t believe I said that. That’s not me, I don’t try to hurt people, but that’s exactly what I was aiming for when those words left my lips. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain I felt when I woke up five years ago, and he was gone.

  Ben steps up behind me, his big hands wrap around my shoulders, “Liza, wanna tell me what’s going on now?”

  I sigh, I’m sure he’s figured it out by now, but I turn around to face him anyway, “Hadley is Hux,” I say.

  Ben’s expression darkens immediately, “As in the punk who broke your heart? That Hux.”

  I nod, “One and the same.”

  He goes to step in the direction Hux just walked in and I push my palms into his chest, stopping him, “No Ben, please don’t. It’s in the past, and that’s where I want to leave it.”

  “If it’s in the past why are you on the verge of crying? And why is he here? There are a hundred other galleries in the city he could have held his little exhibition,” he spits, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Hux across the room.

  “I’m fine, okay, just a little thrown. He didn’t plan this, his assistant or publicist or whatever she is, did it. Please, we can talk about it tomorrow, just let it go for tonight,” I plead.

  Eventually Ben nods, and backs down. I sigh in relief, “Thank you, now, I’m going to call it a night. Can I trust you not to make a scene after I leave?”

  “Would punching him in the face be classed as making a scene?” Ben asks.

  I glare at him, “Yes, Ben. The grandson of the owner of Quinn Plaza attacking the talent at his own exhibition would equate to making a scene,” I deadpan.

  “Fine, I’ll wait until he goes to the bathroom or something,” he mutters under his breath and my hand flies out, delivering a lightning fast nipple cripple. He slaps my hand away, “Okay, okay, I won’t do anything. Not tonight, anyway.”

  I nod, “Thank you, now stop worrying about me and go enjoy your date,” I push up on my toes and press a quick kiss to Ben’s cheek.

  Looking around the room one last time, I catch a glimpse of Hux talking to an older woman who appears to be getting handsy. The clear discomfort on his face gives me a small burst of joy as I push through the glass door and head to my room.

  Yes, I live at the hotel. Which is why Hux taking the position with Grandfather is so terrifying. I’ll have nowhere to go to escape him. He’ll be in my space, day in, day out, until he’s finished decking out the place. And then I’ll be faced with him everywhere I turn. He’ll be on the walls, constantly surrounding me.

  I toss and turn all night thinking about Eliza. Thinking about the fullness of her lips. The grace of her movements, even when she was storming away from me. The length of her slender legs. The curve of her neck. She’s every bit as beautiful as she was before, if not more so.

  The train of my thoughts travel straight to my sex deprived dick. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. I haven’t felt even the slightest amount of attraction to any of the women who’ve pretty much thrown themselves at me. I used to be able to at least get it up for them, but not these days.

  It’s like he, my dick, isn’t interested in life anymore. And I can’t say I blame him.

  But he’s all about Eliza tonight. The more I think about her,
the harder I get. I haven’t whacked off to thoughts of her in a long time, but I think I’m about to break my Eliza abstinence as I’ve come to call it.

  I had forbidden myself from thinking about her when my dick was involved. It wasn’t good for me. It messed with my head too much. But tonight, that’s flying out the fucking window because my fist is wrapped around my cock, jerking furiously as I think about her flushed cheeks when she was telling me off earlier.

  It doesn’t take long for my balls to tighten, then my come is coating my lower abs. I reach for the box of tissues on the bedside table and wipe myself clean. I need to get some sleep if I’m going to make a good impression with Victor in the morning.

  Speaking of, I wonder how Victor would feel about hiring me if he knew I just whacked off to thoughts of his granddaughter. Hell, I wonder if he will want to hire me if he finds out about our past.

  I’m thankful I stopped drinking the champagne when I did. Even though I really wanted to down a few more glasses when I got cornered by the handsy cougar. A shiver runs down my spine just thinking about her. And not in a good way.

  When I got back to my suite I promptly stuck my fingers down my throat to rid my system of the alcohol that remained. Then smashed a few glasses of water and some paracetamol in the hopes that it would lessen the effects of the inevitable hangover.

  When my alarm goes off, I roll over and swat at the bedside table until I find it and turn it off. I want to sleep all day. That was one of the worst sleeps I’ve had in a long time. But I get my arse out of bed and shower before getting dressed to go have breakfast with Victor, because I can’t let this opportunity pass me by.

  And not because working with Victor will do great things for my career, but because it will mean seeing Eliza. After last night, I don’t want to go back without her. I haven’t felt so alive in a long time. And now I know why. It was her. It was always her. Deep down I knew what was missing, but I didn’t want to admit it because wanting her, no, needing her is selfish.