by Lan LLP
As we get closer to the Pier, I see a long stretch of black limos barely inching forward, waiting to drop guests off for the event. If we continue at this rate, I’ll never get there on time. This will not make Carson happy because he’s not a patient man. Uh-oh, his ears must be burning from me thinking about him, my phone vibrates on cue in my clutch. I pull it out, and see a text message from him.
Lily, five more limos and then I’ll see your beautiful face. X Carson
I’m shocked. How does he know this information from the yacht? I can’t decide if I should feel comforted or invaded. I’m sure it’s for security reasons and not because he’s overly protective, I justify on his behalf. I wittingly reply to his text.
I’ll be wearing your dress with black lacy thermals underneath because it’s cold without you. XOX Lily
Seconds later, he replies.
If this is true, the styling crew will ALL be FIRED!!! And don’t you worry Angel, I know how to warm you up;) X Carson
His response makes me smile. I can’t get there soon enough. His flirty texts make me more anxious to be with him.
My limo finally pulls up to a roped-off purple carpeted entrance. The chauffeur opens my door and lends me his hand. Whoa, it’s chilly and windy; goosebumps multiply in number, spreading all over my body. The evening sky glows brightly with gleaming diamond-shaped stars and a grayish-blue, crescent moon. I step out, hug my elbows against my chest and pace towards the yacht, hoping my feet won’t fail me in these ankle-killing heels. I take a second to admire how impressive the yacht is, giving her my respect. Her name is Emily H.L.1997. She’s grand and elaborately decorated for the event with garlands of purple lilac, fresh wisteria and hydrangeas stretched throughout her length. As I enter the yacht, I see every guest wearing a lavender and black color combo in honor of Hodgkin’s lymphoma. There are attendants at every corner with trays of champagne and light hors d’œuvres. I purposely walk past the alcohol. The sight of it makes my stomach turn upside down.
I feel so out of place and alone as I look around for Carson. Where is he? This place is filled with tons of people and not a single person has bothered to extend a small gesture of hello to me. I thought he would be waiting for me as soon as I arrived, so I’m disappointed that he’s not here. My attention is suddenly turned to a robust gentleman who gently taps my shoulders from behind. “Hello my dear, I’m Michael Bradley. I’ve heard many lovely things about you, Miss Ly. Thank you for the wonderful care you’ve provided Carson,” he greets me warmly with kind blue eyes and a comforting smile, making me feel immediately welcomed.
“Hello sir, I’m sorry I don’t know who you are,” I answer, hoping he’ll give me more details about his background. I deduce that he’s somehow related to Carson due to the common surname.
“I’m Carson’s father. He wanted me and his mother to escort his love interest to the ballroom. The word love isn’t easy for my son.” He winks at me like I should understand his last comment. I smile and go with the flow. “I can understand why he’s completely smitten by you. Miss Ly, you’re an absolute gem.” I’m flattered by his sweet compliment.
“Thank you, Mr. Bradley. I can see where Carson gets his charm from,” I repay his compliment with one of my own. I think I just made his evening with my flattery because he has a contagious grin on his face that can lighten up this entire room.
“Shall we, my dear? Carson is waiting for you in the ballroom,” he offers me his arm, and I happily take it. We stop at the top of a steep, curved stairway and wait for our names to be announced. I’m more anxious than ever to see Carson, knowing that he already told his parents about me. “Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bradley accompanied by Miss Lillian Ly.” Carson’s mother walks confidently over to us and links onto Mr. Bradley Sr.’s other arm. She’s purposely not looking at me, but I’m not sure why. I immediately get the feeling that she doesn’t like me. She’s big city glamour with flawless hairstyle and makeup. Her classy purple and black embroidered tulle gown probably came directly from Milan. Mr. Bradley has a proud smile spread across his face, escorting two elegantly dressed women in his arms. I’m thankful for his support because I don’t trust myself to make it safely down the steps in my three and a half inch Manolo Blahnik’s. I have no problem admitting that I wasn’t born graceful, which is why I’m a scholar and not an athlete or dancer.
I finally spot Carson’s handsome face among the receiving line. I breathlessly admire how strikingly he stands out from everyone else in this room. My heart is hammering as the distance between us grows shorter. He locks his brilliant, hazel green eyes onto mine, and I feel his isolated attraction for me. The chemistry between us is so intense that just a single look from one another is all we need to stir the magnetism between us. Everyone else fades away in our private world.
He’s sharply dressed in a black fitted tuxedo with a violet cancer ribbon attached to the lapel of his jacket. I formally shake everyone’s hands down the line until I reach his with heart-palpitating anticipation. He gently pulls me into his chest and whispers, “I look forward to rocking your boat tonight,” with no trace of humor on his suave face. I’ve had little practice compared to him and fail miserably to control my dignified composure. My face flushes crimson red as I offer him a timid smile. He presses his moist lips against my cheek and leaves one tender kiss. “Your beauty is an added gift to what you already offer me,” he compliments me with appreciation in his sparkling green eyes. I’m bubbling over the top from his response, but the feeling diminishes immediately. Our private moment of tenderness is abruptly interrupted by photographers. Continuous camera flashes from all directions blind me, creating bright white spots to appear in my vision. “I’ll be with you soon.” He kisses the back of my hand and releases me to greet the next guest. I reluctantly let him go, not wanting to be alone in a crowd full of arrogant strangers.
Mr. Bradley Sr. walks over to me and guides me to his table with his arms around my shoulders. “Come sit with us, dear, while Carson welcomes his guests.” I gratefully follow him to his table. He pulls my chair out for me, and I sit down next to his wife. She appears more reserved with her feelings than he is, making me feel very unsure about her sentiments for me. The uncertain expression on her face doesn’t help matters either.
“Lillian, it’s nice to meet you,” she attempts to break the ice between us with a hint of tartness in her tone.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Bradley,” I timidly reply, praying she won’t eat me alive.
“What are your plans after you finish your schooling and residency? Where do you see yourself living? How does Carson fit into your future?” she rattles off a series of very personal questions, demanding answers with her staring eyes. I feel interrogated as Carson’s mother grills me.
“I hope to organize non-profit health clinics for underprivileged neighborhoods. As to where I’ll live, I guess it’ll all depend on where my job takes me. I really care for Carson, so I definitely see him in my future.” I give her my most honest response and hope for the best. My voice is on the shakier side even though I tried my best to keep it steady. Why does this woman intimidate me so badly?
“Impressive, your ambitions are incredibly high for someone your age.” There’s something in her tone that triggers anxiety and uneasiness in me.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bradley,” I reply. She must have issues with my age or maybe she’s just being an overprotective mother. Her concerns are justifiable, but it still gives me angst.
The emcee welcomes all guests to this charitable event and invites Carson to take the floor. He confidently emerges from the crowd and graciously greets his guests. Looking out to his audience, he finds my admiring eyes locked on him and his impressive stage presence. His eyes secretly smile back, singling me out like a spotlight. The event commences with a welcoming dance. Carson explains the tradition that started eight years ago to his audience. Names of female and male guests are randomly picked to couple them for the initial dance. This is a great opp
ortunity for everyone to meet new people and develop friendships or business connections.
A tall, curvy, brunette woman draws two guest names from two separate crystal vases etched with cancer ribbons. She hands the tags to the emcee, and he calls the couples’ names out loud. Carson’s name is announced first along with a Bianca Sorte. I look over at him with disheartened eyes. He appears upset, but hides his reaction well behind his impenetrable, public persona. I continue to patiently listen for my name. After the eleventh couple’s names are rattled off, I finally hear mine and then, “Hayden Carter, number twelve.” It can’t possibly be the same Hayden from elementary school. How coincidental would that be?
The emcee instructs guests to meet their partners on the floor to begin the first dance. A tall, strapping man impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo and lilac bowtie advances towards me, breaking my death-grip stare of Carson. “Lily, is that you? I could never forget your beautiful face.” He picks me up, spins me around and gives me a heartfelt embrace. “You look as gorgeous as you did at prom.” His rock solid confidence dissipates as soon as he utters the word, ‘prom.’
I brush it off quickly to smother his embarrassing memory. “Wow, look at you Hayden Carter, all matured and so handsome. You’ve even grown muscles too,” I giggle and tease him. “If only some of those high school girls you fantasized about can see you now,” I remind him. It’s so comforting to see a familiar face, especially Hayden of all people. I hate that we didn’t keep in touch over the past four years. Besides for Emi and Belle, Hayden is probably the next closest friend I have back in Indiana.
“Lily, I only had eyes for you, but I was too shy to tell you. You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known. I wished I would’ve told you then, the night of our prom,” His eyes look modestly down to his feet.
I immediately change the topic due to the awkward direction its heading. “So what brings you here, Hayden?” I curiously ask him, wondering how he ended up here at this function. The last time I spoke to his sister, I think she told me he was finishing up is Master’s degree at MIT.
“My software company is a major sponsor and contributor for Mr. Bradley’s invaluable cause. My father died three years ago after losing his fight with lymphoma.” Gloominess shadows his spirited expression as he recalls his father’s death. I sense heartache in his voice.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Hayden.” My heart goes out to him. I didn’t even know his father was sick. His little sister never even mentioned it when she use to come over to my house to sell Girl Scout cookies or have me tutor her in math because Hayden didn’t have any patience for her.
“Thanks, Lily. It was awful to see him suffer through his last remaining months. No one should ever have to go through that kind of pain and misery. Those memories still haunt my family to this day,” he clears his shaky voice. “May I ask why you’re here instead of studying in St. Croix?” He quickly changes the subject, possibly trying to avoid exposing any more of his vulnerable side. I ignore the eerie fact that he knows where I’m at in my life without me offering him this information and respond to his question.
“I’m here as Carson Bradley’s date,” I answer him blushingly.
“Really? The Carson Bradley of Bradley Pharmaceutical Corporation? Whoa Lily, I hope you know who you’re up against.” His expression is full of concern, and his question is loaded.
“What do you mean by that, and he’s what?” I can’t believe my ears as I look at him in disbelief. I don’t think I heard him correctly.
“He’s the CEO of his billion dollar company. I don’t know this for a fact, but he’s also well known as a heartbreaker and a major player. He has commitment issues, Lily. No woman has ever lasted longer than a few weeks to several months with him until two years ago. Somehow this woman convinced him to marry her, but he cancelled the wedding at the very last minute,” he stalls with a reflective look on his face. “I think maybe over three weeks ago.” Hayden subtly points over to his left. “See that woman dancing with him? She’s the one. Her name is Bianca Sorte,” he frankly tells me.
I look over at Carson and immediately recognize the barely dressed blonde woman in his arms. She’s the woman in his picture back at the condo as well as his ‘Favorite Blonde.’ The back of her dress is cut so absurdly low that it leaves nothing to anyone’s imagination. I’m feeling faint. I see Carson’s glaring eyes directed at me and avoid them. Why the hell is he glaring at me? I should be giving him the look of death for dancing so damn close to his sexy, recently ex-fiancée. I can’t believe I’ve been so blindsided by him. He hasn’t been entirely honest with me, but then he hasn’t lied about anything either. I’ve only asked him if he’s ever loved anyone, but never asked if he was ever engaged. I think sarcastically to myself. The Carson that Hayden just described to me is not the Carson that I know and care about. I wonder what other surprises I will encounter tonight.
It’s all making sense to me now. This is Lillian’s month and after this week ends, he’ll move on to the next woman’s month. I’m feeling panicked for air as it thickens and chokes the life out of me. I finally gather enough hope to give my heart away, and it’s to the wrong man. I knew he was too perfect to be true. My eyes well up with tears, but I forbid myself to cry, at least not for now.
“Hayden, it’s been nice catching up with you. I hope we’ll see each other again.” I bravely put on a strong front, holding my tears back. I need to distance myself from this place and Carson as soon as possible. I feel deceived and jaded.
“Lily, you look pale. Are you okay?” He offers me his arm. “Like I said earlier, I don’t know if there’s any truth to any of the gossip about Mr. Bradley. He seems like a nice enough guy from the few interactions we’ve had due to work.” Hayden regrets divulging some of those damning stats for Carson. He realizes that I’m completely unaware of Carson’s background.
“I’m fine, Hayden. I just need some air.” I release his arm with my trembling hand and try to steady myself.
“I’ll come with you.” He grabs my elbow, looking very concern for me.
“No, you should stay here and enjoy yourself,” I cut him off. He hands me his hi-tech business card and asks me to save him another dance for later. I tuck his card in my clutch, give him a quick squeeze and rush away with the weight of this dreadful evening on my shoulders.
I want to sob so desperately, but I force myself to hold my angry tears back for a while longer. I have to be strong and save these weak tears for later. I don’t want any of these women, especially Bianca, to see me broken because of Carson. I torture myself one last time by glancing back at them to spot her arms still securely wrapped around his neck. Sadly, I make my way for the exit, clenching tightly on to my fragmented dignity. After a few cautious steps up the stairs, I feel a pull at my elbow. It’s Carson’s firm hand. His eyes are callously hardened.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he interrogates distantly. I know this coldness from one other time. The time he was jealous about Richard.
“I need air. The atmosphere in here is much too dense,” I respond with the same chilling factor in my voice while burning a hole in the ground with my heated glare. I haven’t wronged him. He’s the one who hasn’t been completely honest with me by failing to mention that he was almost married three weeks ago.
“You looked cozy dancing with Mr. Carter. Is he getting some air with you, too?” His eyes narrow stiffly with accusation. Seriously, is he for real? Did he just imply that Hayden and I have something going on? He has some balls.
“Carson, it just happens that Hayden and I are old friends from all the way back to elementary school. We’re just catching up. I could ask the same of you and that blonde,” I angrily defend myself. His body immediately fills with tension as soon as I mention her. He runs his fingers through his hair with immense frustration.
“I saw the way he looked at you. I read his body language. I know when a man desires a woman.” He ignores my mention of the blonde woman, and it piss
es me off even more.
“Don’t give me your jealousy bullshit, Carson! I’ve been more than accommodating while tons of women throw themselves at you this evening. I’m tired of watching them fight for your attention. I’m not the sharing or fighting type. I don’t belong here, and I never will. Go back to your party and stop disappointing those willing women,” My voice is more assertive and harsh than I want it to be.
“Lil, don’t be upset. I hate seeing you unhappy because of me. It’s hard to share you with other men. It’s my insecurity, not yours. Please, come back with me. I promise I won’t leave your side again,” he pleads and reaches his hand out to me. I hesitate before accepting it. I only agree to set our differences aside and not cause a bigger scene because I know this charity function is particularly important to him. But trust me, Carson Bradley; this is far from being over. You owe me a huge explanation.
“I’m not done with you yet; we still need to talk about your history with Bianca later tonight.” My tone is inflexible as I look directly into his stunned, green eyes. There’s a surprised expression on his face from the mention of her name. He’s probably wondering how much Hayden has divulged to me about his ex-fiancée.
He presses his lips against my forehead and murmurs, “I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to know later tonight.”
“I’m counting on it,” I reply curtly. He escorts me back to the ballroom with my hand in his as curious eyes stalk us, wondering what’s going on. Carson ignores them, luring me even closer to his side and places his hand on the small of my back. His touches, subtle or obvious, are always welcoming to me even when he’s not my favorite person.
“It’s time for my speech, and then I’ll have you in my arms again,” he softly assures me, moistens his lips and places a gentle kiss on my neck, immediately melting me with his touch even though I’m still upset with him. He politely pulls a chair out for me to sit with his parents. “Mom, dad, please keep an eye on Lil for me.” He gives all three of us a playful smirk. His mother responds with a subtle sneer, not particularly excited with his request. Her reaction makes me want to take the next flight back to my humble little dorm and hide because I’m obviously not good enough for her son. I don’t think she can make it any clearer that she doesn’t like me.
