At the Stroke of Midnight: A Best Friends to Lovers New Year’s Eve Romance

by Ember Flint

  She sniffs primly, her green eyes reduced to slits now. She laughs, attempting to recover some of the ground she lost. “Well of course you wouldn’t recognize what I’m wearing as clothes, dahling, this is more than a simple outfit: it’s art, but I never expected you would get it, growing up without the guidance of a mother and all…”

  The hum around us suddenly stops and then rises again tenfold.

  Seth gasps and I feel his hand tighten on my arm.

  I blink rapidly, feeling the blood drain from my face, my heart squeezing painfully at her scornful words.

  I take a shaky breath. “Bringing my late mother in your pitiful tirades now? That was a low blow, Gillian. Even for you.”

  Seth stares her down. “You are unbelievable. Why the hell did you come? Leave us alone, will you,” he snarls. “Come on, Eve,” he murmurs to me and starts to steer me away.

  I catch Karen whispering furiously at the bitch, her eyes flashing. If Gillian thought she could gain points with Seth’s mom with such a nasty jibe, she was way off the mark this time.

  As we walk toward the piano, he hugs me to his side. “You okay?”

  I shrug.

  “Eve?”

  I gulp down air. “It’s… it’s okay… I shouldn’t have let it go so far, I just… I didn’t expect she would go there.”

  He sighs, bending slightly to kiss my temple. “I know. You were right: I should have told my parents about her behavior and have her ass blacklisted. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault…”

  “Do you want to get away for a bit?”

  I shake my head no. “We are garnering far too much attention as it is. I shouldn’t have lashed out so loudly at her. I should have simply walked away. Let’s just play something and try to salvage the rest of this evening,” I say, trying to control my voice and stop the shakiness from seeping into my words; I don’t want him to worry over me.

  He pulls away from me, holding me at arm-length and looking intently in my eyes. “You sure?”

  I nod. “Yeah, she’s not worthy of the privilege of discomposing me for too long.”

  We reach the piano and start to rummage amongst the music sheets. I pick up some holidays tunes and wave them in front of him. “Are you going to sing too?”

  He glares, “Fuck, no!”

  I laugh.

  “Kids! Here you are,” my father walks over and hugs me to him. “Are you going to cheer the atmosphere a bit or what?” he asks, grinning at Seth.

  “Only if you sing, Dad,” I dare, smiling at him.

  He rubs thumb and forefinger over his dark blonde beard, his tender blue eyes looking down on me as he shakes his head, chuckling.

  “Of course he is going to! We all will, won’t we?” booms Seth’s father reaching us as well and slapping my dad on his back. “Come on, Lenny, some music will stop this relentless gossiping at least.”

  My father looks at the ceiling, “Oh, alright…”

  I hug him. “It’s only fair, guys: we play, you sing…”

  Thank God Seth’s parents always hire an orchestra for the actual party, cause Simon’s right: music is the only thing that can keep you from killing yourself —or someone else— at this kind of events, otherwise it would be an entire evening of listening to malicious tongues wagging incessantly. Not pretty.

  Karen comes over and loops an arm around my shoulder. “I had no idea…” she whispers in my ear.

  All the men are busy choosing the pieces Seth and I will play.

  I look at my dad to make sure he’s out of hearing shot for this conversation. He’s always very sad around the holidays, no matter how much of a brave face he puts up for me and I don’t want to upset him because of a stupid bitch like Gillian.

  “I know, Karen. It’s okay…” I whisper back.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she squeezes my hand in hers.

  I wave her apology away.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, unconvinced.

  I smile, nodding. “Yeah… I’m used to her vitriol. Don’t worry Karen…”

  “I don’t know how much good it would do, but I’m definitely going to have words with her mom. I can’t withdraw their invitation for tomorrow, but next year I will be inviting only her parents that’s for sure. She was unforgivable and that brother of hers… you can’t imagine the kind of comments I’ve heard him make on some of the younger female guests. Disgusting…”

  Oh, I can imagine all right! The guy is a pig.

  “Okay we’re done,” Seth walks around the white Steinway grand piano. He hands me over some music sheets. “What do you say?”

  I look over the selection and I can see some of my favorite wintery songs: ‘Winter Wonderland’, ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ and the piece I love most of all: ‘Let it snow’.

  I smile up at him. “Perfect. Do you want to start with—”

  From a non-distinguishable spot behind us, I catch once more Gillian’s voice and I stop speaking when I hear Seth’s name on her lips in what seems to be a less than complementary description of his person. She’s well hidden amongst the crowd scattered all-over the huge, open-concept room, but her jarring, shrill voice carries over a little too well.

  Is she fucking kidding me?

  Seth and I look at each other and he shakes his head in disbelief.

  I look around and realize my dad and his parents are listening on as well.

  “Such a bore! Girls, you wouldn’t believe it and so stubborn too!”

  Oh no she isn’t!

  She must be fucking mental!

  I feel my teeth clank together, my body tensing in nervous energy. She made me feel bleak and colorless for a moment when she mentioned my being motherless but now she’s really pissing me off.

  “So… well… set in his ways, no partying, no vacationing, always work, work and more work and could I say something? Not a peep! It was constantly his way or the highway with him. I had to break things up…”

  “But he’s so handsome,” another woman says, her tone more poised.

  “More like hot as hell,” giggles another and I start to walk toward their voices.

  I’m ending this now.

  “Eve!” Seth tries to grab my wrist to stop me. “She’s not worth it, you know…”

  I wriggle free of his gentle hold. “But you are,” I whisper and start to move again.

  As I finally spot the gathering of witches, I hear Her Royal Bitchness starting on him again.

  “He might be hot as hell, but he’s so stale, proper! However, he wants me back now and I’m seriously thinking about getting back with him, I mean: dull or not, he’s the next in line and his family’s business empire is worth billions.”

  “And in need of a new empress,” another of the gold-diggers shots back and they all dissolve in giggles again.

  I push my way amongst them and come to a stop only when I’m standing in front of the slut herself.

  My presence immediately silences the group.

  I smile coldly at her. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt you. Go ahead. Since you didn’t care enough to keep your voice down, I figured you wouldn’t mind sharing with me some more details about your break up with Seth. You see, I heard a completely different story and I’m getting confused now. I was sure Seth had to dump your sorry ass because you act more like you’re thirteen then thirty and let’s not forget that set in his ways and proper as he is, he really could not have such a two-timing, cheating, cheap, vulgar tramp on his arm, but was gracious enough to keep his mouth shut to save face for you. Did I get it wrong?”

  I can see her mouth slowly fall open, her face turning white and then red, her lips are moving but no sound is coming out.

  All the other ladies are whispering around us, their eyes on me, their expressions stunned.

  “What?” I ask. “You have nothing more to say? No? You sure? Well, let me wish you a happy new year now then, since I’m hoping I won’t h
ave the displeasure of speaking to you again anytime soon. Enjoy the rest of the party, ladies,” I say and delivering one last pointed look, I walk away.

  Chapter 6

  SETH

  I punch my pillow and drop my head on it, turning to lie face down on the mattress and I squeeze my eyes shut, really starting to get cranky now.

  I turn again to lie on my back and I pick up my phone from its charging pad on my nightstand to see the time.

  A quarter to midnight.

  Just fucking great.

  After the day I had, insomnia shouldn’t be an issue, but I’ve been tossing and turning for almost two hours, completely unable to fall asleep or even rest my eyes for more than a minute.

  My mind just won’t switch off tonight.

  This evening has turned out to be like nothing I was expecting when I got off the car with Eve and no amount of spiked eggnog she made sure to smuggle into the kitchen could have saved it.

  There was no watching ‘Trading Places’ while throwing popcorn at each other, not a trace of the quiet downtime I needed.

  The whole Gillian-debacle —not to mention my decidedly unpleasant interaction with that fucker of her brother— really took its toll on all of us and after the last of the overnight guest left the penthouse to retire, we all just headed out to bed.

  I can’t believe how much those siblings were able to piss me off tonight. I’m not one to lose my cool this much and this fast usually.

  Thank God it happened tonight and not tomorrow during the actual party, because some members of the Press are always invited and that would have made things so much worse.

  I still can believe the nerve of that little piece of shit, speaking of Evelyn in such a way and in my parents’ place!

  I spend most of the evening taking heart in the fact we only had to get through dinner and drinks and then he would be out of here and what does the fucking idiot do?

  Drinks himself under the table.

  My father was forced to offer his parents to let the nitwit spend the night in one of our empty flats in the building. I’ll have to caution Evelyn not to wander alone on the other floors, unless she wants to see him murdered and me in prison.

  And Gillian!

  Not even when I caught her cheating I wanted to annihilate her as much as I did after dinner when she made that despicable comment about Eve’s mom.

  I knew to expect the worst from her, but I can’t believe she could be so heartless and for no reason at all with Evelyn. I really had to physically force myself not to strangle her.

  I don’t give a fuck that she was blabbering nonsense about me: most of the sensible people present at the dinner either know me well enough not to believe a word she said, or at the very least would be too scared to repeat her spiteful piece of gossip for fear of losing their precious connection to my family. We have too much power and too much money to be crossed without consequences: no one in this country would wish to have a Trenton for an enemy.

  I could even be grateful to her for spreading her particular version of the truth about me if it would keep off my back some of the social-climbers and vultures constantly trying to hang onto me, but of course I’m not that lucky.

  In the most money-conscious circles of the blue-blooded society of New York, people could hear much nastier stuff about a rich man and still wish to pander to him.

  Character’s flaws of even worse nature would have little meaning for the women pursuing my wallet, unfortunately.

  I didn’t feel a need to put a stop to it myself but, still: the public set-down that Evelyn delivered to her made me proud.

  She’s always been quite the spitfire.

  I smile to myself, sighing as I turn to lie on my side.

  The only highlight of the evening was our impromptu little holiday medley. As Eve and I played, not only our family, but most of the guests started to sing along and we were able to move past Gillian’s faux pas.

  I usually don’t like to play in public, but I’m thankful my mother thought of it as being busy at the piano kept me away from most of the unwanted attention I’d had to endure until then and the music helped Evelyn to calm down.

  Playing the piano has always been something that brought us together and has always had this decompressing effect on both of us.

  We’ve been playing since we were respectively seven and five.

  I wasn’t supposed to take those lessons though.

  I was more into sports than music at the time, but Eve’s parents knew how musical she was and wanted to nurture her aptitude.

  However, she was too scared to stay alone with her piano teacher, a curmudgeon old lady, but she didn’t want to admit it to her mom and dad so she begged me to ask my parents if I could have piano lessons too and so I started to tag along just to keep her company really, but I quickly found I loved to play.

  I sigh, bending and crossing my arms behind my head, my mind divided once more between thinking about Eve’s words from earlier today and the two-hundred-pages-long report currently waiting for me on my desk in my office.

  Suddenly a noise startles me and I sit up on the bed.

  I frown until, listening more closely, I realize I’m hearing tinkering on the piano and there’s only one person I can think of that could be responsible for it at this hour of the night, aside from me.

  I get out of bed and pull some sweats over my boxers, I yawn, passing a hand over my face and already feeling the scratch of a new layer of beard.

  Eve swears she can already spot a shadow on my jaw within an hour of me shaving it off.

  I walk out of my bedroom and into the darkened hall and I follow the almost disconnected music notes to the living room.

  I find Eve sitting on the piano bench, she’s wearing an oversized dark blue pajamas top — decorated all over with little snowmen and snowflakes— over a pair of tiny white shorts.

  I’m barefoot so she doesn’t hear me as I get in.

  Her fingers are distractedly stroking the keys in a very slow rendition of a piece unfamiliar to my ears. She’s sitting in profile, turned to the side, her eyes pensively staring at the snow falling down the black sky in heavy, glittering swirls of white beyond the floor-to-ceiling wraparound windows; the lights of the city bathing everything in a cold glow.

  Even from a distance I can tell something is wrong. I shouldn’t have believed her when she reassured me about being fine after hearing Gillian’s crass remark about her mom.

  She sighs, blinking a couple of times and starts to play more cohesively.

  I step into the room.

  “Can’t sleep?” I ask, sitting directly in front of her on the edge of the chaise longue standing near the unlit fireplace.

  She jumps a little at my voice and turns her body completely toward the piano to look at me. “Yeah… you neither?”

  I nod.

  She looks down at the keys, her fingers caressing them.

  I try to read her expression, but I can’t.

  “You okay?”

  She shrugs and once more focuses her gaze on the falling snowflakes; the long crystalline chains billowing and floating in the forceful wind.

  “What were you playing just now?” I ask. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you play this one…”

  She smiles a little. “It’s an oldie that my mother really loved: ‘Bette Davis Eyes’.”

  Bianca loved the black and white era of the cinema and it’s no secret she was a huge fan of the tenacious and glamorous actress. “She really was a Stan when it came to Bette Davis,” I grin in remembrance.

  “Yeah, she totally was. She could practically lip-sync all her dialogues from her movies.”

  I chuckle. “Once my dad told me she wanted to actually name you Bette, why didn’t she?”

  Evelyn smile turns a little sad. “I was supposed to be a Bette almost to the end of my mom’s pregnancy, but then my grandma passed away and my father really wanted me t
o be named after her.”

  My mom told me Eve’s grandmother was very formidable and for whatever reason had never been fond of Bianca so only her deep love for Leonard could make her abide his desire to name their daughter after his mother.

  Evelyn sighs, smiling in the distance. “When I was little, she would tell me she had still won in some way because she was sure I did get the famed eyes. I never saw it, though, but I always went along with it ‘cause it made her happy… especially near the end…” she shrugs, her cute nose crinkling.

  I look into her large, vivacious, deep blue eyes and I smile. Her mom was absolutely right.

  “You do have them, you know… at least for me, you do.”

  She gently shakes her head, looking down.

  “Also, her favorite Davis’ movie was ‘All about Eve’, right? So your name must have worked out just fine in the end.”

  She grins. “True… even though Eve is a total bitch in that movie.”

  We both laugh.

  She starts tickling the keys again.

  “Would you sing it to me?” I ask.

  She looks up. “Hmm?”

  “The song: I’ve never heard it.”

  She smiles. “I guess, but no playing or we’ll wake everybody.”

  I nod, leaning forward, my elbows over my knees.

  At first she just hums the melody a little. “You got it now?” she asks.

  I shake my head no and she starts to sing the lyrics as well, a cappella; her voice low and soft.

  She sings about a teasing girl with a gritty attitude, golden hair, hands that are never cold and captivating eyes.

  Outspoken, strong, but also vulnerable and just as pure as the snow falling over New York.

  The lyrics comparing her qualities to those belonging to some of the greatest divas from a bygone era. Harlow, Garbo and of course: Bette Davis.

  My heart is pounding away in my chest and I find I’m unable to look away from her as she sings, sitting there in her PJs, looking like an angel bathed in the soft light reflecting off the falling snow; her sweet voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks glowing.