The Price Of Success (Fighting For Fireworks)

by Lee, Corri

  I was more than grateful when Nathaniel pulled me away from the swarm and into the sanctuary of the manor’s porch area. He smoothed down my hair tenderly and straightened my top hat. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, “that’s quite an intense experience.” Residual bright spots of light from the camera’s flashes still burdened my eyes and dazed me.

  “You handled it very well. Anyway…” He straightened himself out into his billionaire persona and knocked on the grand oak door. A beat later, it swung open at the hands of a man dressed as a nine of diamonds, who waved a hand for us to walk in.

  The corridor beyond was heavily embellished with streamers and yet more playing cards. And then, the most curious sight. A very short young lady dressed all in white with a waistcoat, lop ears and a bobbin tail. Nathaniel splayed his hands out triumphantly and urged me forward.

  “Cecelia, welcome to Wonderland. Follow the white rabbit.”

  I obliged, mystified by the spectacle I was walking through. The lighting got dimmer as we followed the ‘white rabbit’ down a long corridor, the walls around us laden with heavily packed shelves. We reached another door, one that seemed far too small. It was an illusion of course. It opened out into the bright reception of the manor, where an exceptionally large vase of white roses stood on a pedestal next to a large sheet of canvas that trailed across the floor. The canvas was heavily spattered with red paint that dripped from a bizarre rack against the wall.

  The rack was labelled with the names of every guest, and all who were already present had signed in by means of dipping one of the white roses on offer in a trough of red paint off to the side of the canvas and hanging it by their name. I imagined that school had been much more riveting if registration had been called this way.

  I found my name as others had, and the list of the faces that I could expect to see had me star-struck. There would be other authors, musicians I idolised, business entrepreneurs and a host of other high profile public figures. I was giddy, and it was only half by way of being tipsy.

  We proceeded through to a function room wherein lanes of long tables filled three sides of the room, leaving a large area open for dancing. My focus was immediately drawn to the extraordinary decorations dotted around the room- large toadstools and ice sculptures of the characters of Alice In Wonderland. Alice herself stood on a raised stage overlooking the dance floor.

  The tables were full of tea cups and teapots, and every place setting had little more than party favours of miniature cupcakes reading ‘Eat Me’ and miniscule multi-coloured glass bottles reading ‘Drink Me’. I hoped dearly that they didn’t contain Everclear.

  “There’s no cutlery.” I muttered, and eyed Nathaniel suspiciously. He shrugged with unconvincing innocence and led me to the largest of the tables in the room. My place was sat next to his, almost at the top of the table where a large gold throne sat. Rather than a real name, the place was labelled ‘The Mad Hatter’, but I instinctively knew that the throne must belong to Isaac, as the host of the event.

  Nathaniel pulled out my chair for me to sit and set to pouring me a cup of tea from the dainty pottery. “What do you think?”

  “Mad Hatter’s tea party? But I don’t want to go among mad people.” My citation was rewarded with a genuinely impressed grin, though I wasn’t entirely sure why he was so pleasantly surprised. He knew me well enough to know that I would love an event such as this, so he should have damn well known me well enough to know that I knew that book like the back of my hand. “It’s very impressive, Nathaniel- I’m honoured to have been invited.”

  “If you think this is impressive, there is a croquet set in the garden and,” his voice dropped to a whisper as the seats around us began to fill, “a hookah in one of the side rooms for the hangers on who are so inclined.” I presumed that I was intended to fall into that category.

  “So your brother is as deviant as you?”

  “Oh, he’s worse. He makes the cherry bombs- he likes to see pretty girls like you cut loose and optimise on their weakness.” I chewed on the side of my mouth to stifle my smile. It seemed that I would end up with quite an intimate knowledge of the Alexander twins. Bethany would be sick with jealousy. “Get that look off your face right now. Isaac knows you’re out of bounds.”

  My teeth released the soft plush flesh of my cheek with a jolt. I had so easily forgotten my commitments and I instantly felt awful. “Cole.”

  Nathaniel’s eyes flared for a moment, hand tightening around a tea cup. “If you like.” He flung an arm around the back of my seat and pulled it closer to him. “Look Cecelia, what happens in Wonderland stays in Wonderland. Alcohol clouds your judgment and what lies beyond closing hours will only seek to exacerbate that effect. You will misbehave, as will I, but for one night, would you leave your moral code of conduct at the door? It has no place here, neither does guilt. There would be no fallout from you just being yourself- I certainly wouldn’t dream of sharing your indiscretions any more than I imagine you’d share mine.”

  His permission to make mistakes was a comfort, but not something that I felt I could adhere to. “Like I said early, there’s no such thing as ethical immunity. You may well keep my secrets for me, but that certainly wouldn’t stop me from facing the consequences of my own accord. Every lie and secret is uncovered at some point.”

  “I live in hope.” He muttered his words with the intention of not me hearing them, but obviously I did. If ever there was a place to be cryptic though, it was certainly at the table of the Mad Hatter. “Please just enjoy yourself, Cecelia. It is for charity.” My resistance slipped with a roll of my eyes and the dropping of my head into my hands.

  “Well it appears that my hands are tied, doesn’t it?”

  “That could be arranged. Might make an interesting revision to your novel.”

  “Ah no,” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, “there’s only so many times you can stand to read about a girl getting tethered and spanked. Just sayin’.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The seats around us filled rapidly and the low level of chit chat that had buzzed when we’d arrived crescendoed to a dull roar. Several guests sought out Nathaniel for brief conversations, and some of the women I saw put the full amalgamation of Disney princesses to shame. The top hats varied in size and shape, and overall outfits ranged from understated to outrageous. Mine erred on the side of understated, and for that, I was grateful- I wouldn’t attract undue attention and be identified as a poser.

  Nobody engaged me in conversation. Why would they? I was just the nameless mistress with a bad temper. Professional photographers roamed the room and I was sure that my bored dejected face must have been immortalised on camera at least five times.

  I fiddled with my phone, feeling as though the lack of signal debilitated me like a lost limb. I’d known Bethany since the start of secondary school and my lines of communication with her had never been impinged. She had sat with me through my best and worst moments, but at a time as monumental as this, she was back in the city and too far away.

  Nathaniel’s hand closed around mine with a cast iron grip. I glanced up and was met by a stare of unfathomable tenderness. “You’re bored, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not bored,” I lied, “I just feel like a spare part.”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head at me and caught me off guard with the brush of his knuckles against my cheek. “This is your world too now. Everyone knows who you are- what you have to offer. They’re all waiting for you, Cecelia- waiting for you to dazzle them with that smart mouth and those platinum eyes that nearly knocked me on my arse in the Fiore’s Bistro. I can never eat in there again, you know. They know I’m a threat.” How are you a threat? My mind flooded with relief when Nathaniel’s unforgiving honesty and cryptically unnerving aphorisms were interrupted from the crash of a loud bronze gong that had been wheeled into the room by another card guard.

  “Ladies and gentlemen- the time is nine o’clock. Dinner is served.”
A spotlight flooded one darkened side of the room that had previously been camouflaged by the décor, and highlighted a long row of tables laden with food. Between the bodies that flooded forward, I caught sight of a large stack of plates and napkins. The guests filed patiently to stack the ceramic high and sate their appetites.

  “You put me through three hours of dinner etiquette classes for a fucking finger buffet.” Nathaniel grinned and pulled me to my feet by the hand he was still gripping.

  “I maintain that the lesson was valuable, but admittedly, I probably could have spaced them out rather than bombard you with a crash course.” He ignored my vicious glare and urged me towards the ever growing queue for the food tables by his other hand on the small of my back. “Fetch me a plate, I’ll get you a drink.”

  We parted ways and his distance left me feeling lost and abandoned in the sea of popular and famous faces which I didn’t know. Steeling myself, I joined the line and kept my head low, not wanting to attract any attention. Not knowing my name, nobody could really seek to engage me in any way- it had never been revealed that the woman Nathaniel had been pictured with so publicly also happened to be his new cash cow. I was just a face in the crowd, an enigma.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” A kindly old denim eyed gentleman extended a hand to me from his preceding place in the queue, dispelling my theory that I’d be left alone. Though clearly in his fifties, maybe sixties, his eyes sparkled with sincerity and prolonged youth. “I’m John Rembrandt, the Alexander’s first port of call for bail money.” He laughed at the blatant alarm on my face. “I jest. I’m the lawyer.” I took his hand politely and hoped that he couldn’t hear the cogs grinding in my head. Why would a lawyer be invited to a charity event? It might have been common practice- I knew no better.

  A shiver of anticipation unfurled through my veins as my mouth opened to introduce myself. I smiled slightly and rolled my eyes. “You’re back, Nathaniel.”

  John eyed me with interest and nodded curtly to the grandiose gentleman who took a place at my side. “How did you know he was there without looking?”

  I feigned my ignorance at knowing that Nathaniel was beside me and shrugged. “I can feel the vehemence and smug self-satisfaction that exudes from him coming from a mile off.” I swayed onto my hip to bump shoulders with Nathaniel and looked up at him with a wink.

  He gave me a tight lipped smile of amusement and offered his hand to greet John. “I see you’ve met Cecelia and her off-the-cuff assessments of my personality.”

  “I’d say she’s got you pegged, Nathaniel.”

  Nathaniel pursed his lips and stole a glance at me, eyes twitching with deep thought. “I dare say she has, John.” There was a definite air of ambiguity surrounding his statement. “Actually, could I borrow you for a brief moment?” They wandered off diagonally in the direction of our table with hushed conspiratorial whispers, nods and a few short bursts of laughter, leaving me to tend to the matter of food.

  The spread was outstanding and unbelievable. The savoury end of the table held the rudimentary miniature quiches and cocktails typical of a party buffet, but every morsel had been painstakingly modelled to hold some sort of semblance to the theme. Sandwiches were transformed into playing cards, savoury muffins were labelled ‘Eat Me’ in the same manner as the party favours, pizza slices were cut into Cheshire cat grins. More spectacular was the sweets table- over-spilling with fondant filled sponge toadstools, sugar mice, grand cakes and trifles decorated with immaculately sculpted sugar craft white and red roses. It was a diabetic’s worst nightmare and a calorie counter’s downfall. I was neither, and I licked my lips in heated anticipation of the sugar coma that awaited me.

  Nathaniel lay in wait when I returned to the table, sprawled out across his chair like a king. I paused for a moment to absorb the very idea that I’d been invited here as his guest. London was full of beautiful sophisticates with more than the single ounce of self-confidence I held. I had to wonder what the hell he was thinking.

  He took the plates heaving with the full arsenal of culinary excellence from my hands and set them down at our places, tugging me to sit down by means of a gentle squeeze of my fingertips. Something was different about him out here, away from the urban chaos of London. He was settled and docile. The lingering look that he was holding back his true personality had vanished.

  A golden goblet sat next to my plate, a fine mist curling over its edges. Nathaniel nodded his head towards it and raised one of his own. “Bottoms up. It’s not as bad as it looks.” I regarded the goblet with caution and braced myself for a brutal bite when the rim set at my lips. My mouth was consumed with the taste of sweet fruit and a tang of aniseed and heated before it cooled. It was like drinking the candy canes my parents had hung on the tree at Christmas- delicious and indulgent.

  “What’s your biggest dream in life, Cecelia?” I raised an eyebrow at the unprovoked probe and sipped greedily at the smoking potion.

  “To be published and have fireworks, you know that.”

  Nathaniel shook his head and rotated his goblet by its stem. “Those are obtainable. Everyone has one supreme desire that seems to be beyond human reach. That one thing you dream of but never imagine you could achieve- what is it?”

  I leaned back in my seat, my muscles taut from the general discomfort of being so far out of my comfort zone intensified by the interrogation. “Why are you grilling me?” He didn’t answer, just continued to fiddle with his goblet. “I want to travel.” I submitted. “I want to see the Aurora Borealis, Pompeii, the Sistine Chapel, and the Grand Canyon. I want to travel the world looking for treasures that don’t exist to return home and find that all I wanted was right where I started, but become a richer person for the experiences.” I shrugged and emptied my goblet. “I’m a fantasist.”

  “Most people just want fame and fortune, you have to go for a spiritual pilgrimage.” Nathaniel laughed softly and picked at his food absent-mindedly.

  “Fine,” I spat, “I want a big fucking car with a chauffeur, a giant mansion with a private lake and a treasury so I can keep my entire fund of riches in stacks of fifties to roll around in when I feel particularly narcissistic. Is that what you want to hear?” I foraged through my bag for my phone and threw it down on the table, knocking my empty goblet over, mocked by the persistent lack of signal. I could spill my heart and it would never be good enough for Nathaniel because I would never crave power and riches.

  He heaved himself up to his feet and stooped down to turn my chair around by the legs. “Get up,” he barked with a wave of his hand, “come with me.” When I failed to stand of my own accord, he grabbed both of my hands and pulled me up with a growl, wrapping his hand around mine and pulling me out across the function room, through the reception area and down another heavily decorated corridor to emerge in the manor’s garden.

  Chinese lanterns flooded the greenery, topiary sculptures of chess pieces glowing gloomily in their light. A large chessboard of a dance floor filled a vast expanse of the grounds, croquet hooks stabbed into the surrounding grass verges.

  Nathaniel raised a hand and pointed out beyond the silhouettes of the hedging that reflected only the light of the crescent moon. “Do you see that?”

  “The sky?”

  “Yes. That’s your universe out there.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye without turning my head, my eyes narrowing. “That’s your universe, and yours alone. And you control it.”

  “Hardly. Billions of people live on this planet alone and I’m not even going to get into a debate about extra-terrestrials.” Nathaniel scooped his raised arm around my shoulders and eased me around to stand in front of him.

  His arms wrapped around my waist and his whispered breath lapped at my ear. The contact made my stomach flutter with the sense of being too close to The Tree Of Knowledge. “Just because other people are in it, doesn’t mean it’s not yours. Everything that resides in your universe, you dominate. From the air you breathe to the ground underneath you
r feet- you are the only person who can put in place the necessary measures to change those things. Your life, your fate, your future- you control it all.”

  “You think I’m in the midst of some sort of existential crisis.” To some extent, he may have been right. My life had always lacked meaning and I’d masked it by labelling myself as an author. Now that my ambition to be published was going to be realised I had nothing to aspire to. I had nothing.

  His sigh chilled my shoulders. “I think that you see yourself as just another face in the crowd. What you should be thinking is that you’re the only face in the crowd that matters.” His words brushed away the tears that my heart had wept since my parents had died. Only my mother would ever come out with something so profound and inspirational to set me at ease. She loved me with maternal reverence, but Nathaniel gave up his comfort so easily. “If you’re really flailing from the lack of contact with Bethany, I can take you to a telephone. Just let me know.”

  I stepped forward to break the wrap of his arms and turned to look at him, utterly perplexed. He was so thoughtful that it was sickening, and he knew my mind better than I did. The affinity we shared along with our prominent features was astounding. “What does a girl have to do to bag a guy like you, Nathaniel?”

  “She need only ask.” I coughed a laugh and set to retraining the layers of my dress to remedy the consequence of being squashed by Nathaniel. He turned me around and began to tug at the layers I couldn’t reach myself. “I’m not joking, Cecelia. Bagging a billionaire is something else you control.”