Stone Unhinged (The Stone Book 2)

by Renee Harless

  Bea and I spend about thirty minutes trying on all the dresses we selected. We both set aside a few that we’d like to purchase on our own before trying on our event selections. We step out towards the mirrors at the same time, our breath catching simultaneously in our throats as we look at the other. Bea looks like a celebrity attending an award show. Petite though she is, the gown doesn’t over power her. She is breathtakingly beautiful and I tell her so, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks. Turning to face the mirror, I am stunned to see myself looking like a modern day princess. The bodice of the dress is a purple lace illusion, lying softly over a nude mesh material that stretches across my chest and my arms. The skirt is a pool of purple silk that swishes and twirls as I walk. The sales woman immediately approves of our selections, offering to have them cleaned and delivered to our apartments tomorrow.

  As we ring up our purchases, I turn to my friend. “Bea, do you want to get ready with me? I’m not very good with makeup and I may need some help,” I admit honestly.

  Eavesdropping, the sales woman’s ears perk up and she offers to send a hair and makeup artist to my apartment free of charge. Apprehensive at first, I hesitate to agree but her smile is warm and I truly believe she is trying to help. Finally, I accept.

  Completing our shopping mission, I send a message out to all my staff and let them know they can take the rest of the day off. I know they’ve all worked extremely hard this week and I want them to be happy working for me.

  Our shopping bags in hand, Steven and I walk back to our apartments after saying goodbye to Bea. I haven’t been as attentive as I usually am during our conversations; instead, I find that my mind has drifted towards Alex. I can’t seem to help wondering if he or his sister Abigail is driving down these streets, or if I’ll run into them during the three months that I’m here. Does he ever think about me? Does he ever regret his decision to leave me? With no way to contact him, I guess I’ll never really know. Thinking about Alex causes the flame in my heart to burn fiercely and I need to rub my chest to lessen the resulting physical pain.

  Chapter 6

  Incessant knocking on my door wakes me from the first peaceful sleep that I’ve had in ages. Grunting, I check my clock and find that it’s only 8:00am: In other words, way too early to be up on a Saturday, especially when I know I’ll be up late tonight. As the knocking persists, I realize that I have no hope of going back to sleep. Grudgingly, I roll out of bed and answer the door. Bea stands in front of me, cheery as the sun is bright, and I strongly consider closing the door in her face.

  “Mallory! Good morning! Are you awake?”

  “Does it look like I’m awake?” I grumble, rubbing at my eyes, but stand aside for her to enter. “Come on in.”

  “I’m sorry. I was just so excited for tonight. Thank you so much for inviting me!” Her blonde ponytail bounces up and down with joy.

  About to tell her that I am now passionately regretting my decision, I decide at the last minute to play nice instead.

  “You’re welcome. I wanted to spend some time with a new friend. Would you like some coffee? Because I know I need a whole pot this early.”

  “It’s 8:00am,” she declares, as though coffee is just superfluous by now and every living creature has been awake for hours. “Why were you still in bed?”

  “Um, just moved here. Still adjusting.”

  “Oh, right sorry. I’ll make the coffee if you want to go back to bed.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll let the coffee brew and step in the shower if that’s ok?”

  “No problem. Can I watch your television?”

  “Definitely.”

  Two hours and as many pots of coffee later, another knock on my door announces the arrival of our dresses. A note is pinned to the clear plastic bags, stating that our hair and makeup artists will arrive at 3:00pm.

  How much time to they think we need to get ready? I wonder.

  To pass the time, Bea and I spend the afternoon relaxing and sharing grilled chicken Caesar salad from the cafe across the street, and then attempting to catch a few catnaps. Though I know it’s a taking a chance, I even tell her a bit about my relationship with Alex after she describes in full detail the painful relationship with her ex. I am hesitant, however, to mention Alex’s name. She may know someone that is acquainted with him and that’s a greater risk than I care to take.

  The hair and makeup artists arrive at 3:00pm on the dot. A statuesque woman with milk chocolate skin and silky ebony hair greets us with kisses on both of our cheeks and her colleague, a man no taller than five feet, barges into my apartment startling me, his white hair with hot pink spiked tips taking me by surprise. The ease with which they masterfully transform us into regal beauties amazes me, something I can’t help but notice as we chat aimlessly about nothing of any importance. With a twinge, I realize that our idle conversation makes me miss home. I have realized how perfectly Bea and Madison would get along - I make a mental note to text her and tell her I hope she can visit soon.

  Finally, after hours of primping and curling and powdering, I’m ready to see the magic. Standing in front of the floor length mirror in my bedroom, I am amazed at my own transformation

  “Mallory, you look like a princess!” Bea gushes. "I mean you were beautiful before and really they didn’t do much with your makeup, but with your hair swept up like that and the green in your eyes, you seriously are going to put everyone else to shame tonight.”

  “Bea, that’s really sweet of you to say, but if anyone is going to outdo others tonight it will be you. You look gorgeous. It’s like that dress was made for you,” I say sincerely. Her hair is twisted up into a spiraled mess of curls on her head and longer pieces drape down her back, elongating her slender neck. The smoky eye the duo created on her bright blue eyes is a great contrast to the pastels on her gown.

  “I know, right?” she says, bursting into a fit of laughter.

  Her delight is contagious and we giggle uncontrollably until we hear the third knock of the day on the door.

  “That must be Steven. Are you ready, Bea?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  As we pull open the door to greet him, Steven bows graciously at our arrival.

  “You ladies are making me one lucky man tonight. I get to escort two of the most beautiful women in attendance to the event.”

  “Well now, Steven. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you haven’t seen everyone in attendance. Plus I don’t think your wife would appreciate your statement,” I say, chastising him with a smile.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he hands it to Bea and asks her to take a photo of the two of us to send his wife. He then takes one of Bea and myself and emails both photos to me to keep. She and I check our handbags, a bit fussily I’ll admit, and step into the evening, barely able to stifle our nervous giggles.

  Sliding into the limousine, which Steven was able to secure even on such short notice, Bea and I instantly grab for the champagne to try to loosen up our nerves. The alcohol hits us both immediately since we haven’t eaten much during the day.

  “You two need to go easy, or at least until we’ve had dinner. I don’t want to carry both of you down the red carpet.”

  “So there is a red carpet?” I ask.

  “Of course there is. This is a very prestigious event,” he says, craning his neck to peer out the window. “Look, we’re next in line. Are you ladies ready?”

  “As we’ll ever be,” I say, taking a deep breath.

  Steven exits the car first and holds his hand out, first to Bea, and then to myself. As the driver pulls away from the curb, I turn to look at the sea of press flashing their cameras for the event arrivals.

  “Just breathe and smile, ladies. Like I said, you’re the most beautiful women here tonight.”

  Luckily, we arrive before any big crowds, so we’re able to scoot along the carpet quickly, posing occasionally when instructed. Much to my surprise, I have a few reporters ask for my name and if I am single. To be honest, it
’s all a little too intrusive for just an advertising executive.

  “Mallory,” Bea begins when I voice my opinion to her, “They think you’re a celebrity. Can’t say that I blame them. You really stand out in that color.”

  Blushing profusely, I smile and glance at my feet, following her and Steven inside the hotel’s banquet room.

  Locating our names on a table in the back corner, we all take a moment to glance around the room, drinking in its extravagance. All of the linens and decorations are in a black and white damask pattern, while the flowers on the tables are a sweet shade of pastel pink. It’s very subtle, but incredibly beautiful.

  Settling into our designated seats, Bea makes small talk with the younger man seated next to her, while Steven and I speak with the older couple on the other side of me. Before long, it is time for the serving of dinner and we move slightly aside, so that the waiters can place our plates in front of us. The duck dish is mouthwateringly good – so good, in fact, it takes every drop of my will power to refrain from ordering seconds.

  Dinner is quickly devoured. I am alone for a moment, as Bea has joined her neighbor on the dance floor and Steven has moved to another table, speaking with a couple he knows from another event. Standing off to the side, I lose myself in the flurry of colors gracing the dance floor. The shimmering movement of the couples is remarkable against the crispness of the room’s décor.

  Startling me from my reverie, Bea prances up beside me where I am leaning against the wall.

  “This is so much fun. Don’t you think so, Mallory?”

  “It is. Are you having a good time?”

  “Without a doubt. That guy I have been dancing with is named Frederick. He’s from Sweden!” She says excitedly, then sighs with a touch of longing. “But soon, my dream man will be walking through those doors.” She nods towards the front entrance. “I found out through gossip on the dance floor that Lord Nicholas will be coming tonight to man the auction.”

  “Well, you better make sure you have a good seat. He must be the prestigious benefactor we’ve heard all about.”

  “His family members are actually the benefactors, I’m sure it was just his turn to run the auction this year. His brother and sister have done the past two years.”

  Watching the stage, we see a slight movement behind the curtain and Bea grabs my hand in a death grip. Trying fruitlessly to shake her hand loose, she clings even more tightly as a member of the charity moves to the stage and announces Lord Nicholas’ arrival. A massive swarm of females practically runs to the doors, hoping to grab the attention of the Lord and his family. I am somewhat amused by their antics.

  A moment passes and the emcee announces the arrival of our guest of honor: Lord Nicholas Stone. Stunned at the name, I instantly turn my head towards the direction of the doors.

  “Lady Evie escorted by Lord Nicholas Stone,” the announcer proclaims.

  I pray desperately that it is a coincidence, a mere coincidence, a terrible coincidence…

  Trying again to rip my hand loose from Bea’s grip, my heart begins to hammer, and my breath catches in my throat. I see the thick hair first as he towers above all those awaiting his arrival. My body instantly awakens to his presence and I frantically push against Bea in desperation just as Steven comes to stand beside me.

  “Ms. Samantha James escorted by Lord Alexander Stone,” the emcee continues.

  As though they were alerted to my presence, the members of the crowd part slightly, just enough for me to see a very pregnant Samantha walk by, looking radiant on Alex’s arm. Samantha…The estranged wife of my close friend Will, the couple to whom Alex himself introduced me. Judging by her stomach, I would say she is about eight months along – very nearly full-term.

  A heavy weight plummets through my chest and settles like lead into my stomach. She must have conceived around the same date we would have been in California, visiting their winery. A slight ringing fills my ears– I can barely comprehend the announcer declaring Abigail’s arrival, or even that I am in the same room as Alex. As the world begins to darken slightly, all I can see is a pregnant Samantha, though she is no longer in my line of sight.

  Suddenly the room seems unbearably loud, and I am at last able to break away from Bea. Shoving past her and Steven, I can feel the warning pressure in my head that signals hot tears will soon be scalding down my cheeks.

  “Mallory, stop!” Bea cries. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t.” I gasp, choking on the very air of the room, "I need to go, please. I… I can’t be here,” I whisper, frantically running towards the exit with Bea and Steven on my heels.

  To my dismay, I soon realize that the only exit is the doors where Alex and his family have entered. Searching aimlessly for another escape, I notice that workers are moving back and forth between the stage and curtain. My momentary delay has caused Steven and Bea to catch up to me. Choosing the stage as my only means to break away from this nightmare, I violently pry myself from Bea’s concerned grasp and sprint towards the other end of the room.

  “Mallory! Mallory! Where are you going?” I hear Bea shout.

  Vaguely, an alarmed question floats from the crowd, reaching my ears. “Mallory?” queries a concerned female voice, and I know that the melodic sound belongs to Abigail Stone.

  Chancing a glance back at the crowd as my feet hit the steps of the stage, I find an utterly shocked Alex turning his head towards Abigail, then to Steven, whom he seems to recognize from meeting him in Maryland, then finally towards me. As his eyes collide with mine across the crowd, I turn and run up the steps, exiting behind the curtain. Unfortunately, my escape was not quick enough to miss him turning towards Samantha with a flushed look of shame coloring his face.

  Running through the kitchen and down a hallway, I can’t make out the shouts from the hotel staff over the blood pounding in my ears. Moving aimlessly down corridors, I’m lost in the expansive hotel, but pleased to be away from the man that broke my heart and destroyed my world.

  Suddenly, a pair of strong arms grabs my waist from behind, thrusting me sharply against a muscled chest, then finally tossing me against the cold concrete wall. Startled, I let out a stifled scream.

  “Mallory, what are you doing here? Where are you going?”a familiar and angry voice bellows.

  Unable to answer against Alex’s rage, I simply shake against the wall and allow a few small tears to escape from my eyes. I was not prepared to see him: not today, not ever. All of the hurt from his departure hits me at once and I know I need to mentally talk myself down before breaking into hysterics.

  “I…I…,” I stutter lamely, completely unable to answer him.

  Faintly, I can hear my name called from down the hall before I see Bea, Steven, and Abigail arrive. Stopping about twenty feet away from my exchange with Alex, the group looks back and forth between the two of us. Raising my hand to push a stray hair from my face, I am shocked to find it trembling. Noticing the same reaction, Alex reaches forward and softly tucks the piece of hair behind my ear in a sweet gesture before smiling at me kindly. He seems pleased and a little surprised that I didn’t push his hand away.

  Stepping forward, Steven asks, “Mallory, are you ok? Did he hurt you?”

  Before I have a chance to answer, Abigail steps towards Steven and says, “He would never hurt her, ever.”

  My reasons for running desperately away this evening hit me full force as I stare directly at Alex and whisper, “He already did.” Before he can react, I duck under his arm and head towards the hotel lobby.

  Waiting outside for the arrival of limousine, I lean against the wall while Bea and Steven look back and forth, between each other and me. As the driver pulls up to the valet, I look back at my group.

  “Please stay, I will send the driver back once I get home. I don’t want to ruin your night and I don’t want an argument. We have work to do tonight.”

  Without missing a beat, Bea steps into the limousine behind me while giving Steven a thumbs up
. As he nods and heads back into the hotel, I look at Bea in exasperation.

  “You don’t need to say anything; you already told me the story. I’m putting two and two together and concluding that Alex is your dominate ex.” She pauses for second. “Way to go by the way, he’s a hottie… maybe more so than my Nicholas,” she says with a gentle smile.

  Bursting into tears, Bea holds me tightly as I weep.

  “I love him Bea, I love him so much.”

  “I know Mal, I could see the desolation on your face when he walked into the room. He loves you too, you know, even if he doesn’t know it. He practically pushed people down and out of the way as he ran after you.” There is silence for half a moment, broken only by my quiet sobs. “It’s kind of romantic,” she adds.

  “It’s not romantic, I’m falling apart here. He only ran after me to figure out why I was there. He thinks I followed him.”

  “Well, I don’t know what he thinks, Mallory. Only Alex can tell you that.”

  As the driver pulls up in front of my building, I step out of the car with Bea, who is hot on my heels. I’m thankful for her company and allow her to join me inside my apartment.

  “Do you mind if I soak in a bath for a bit? I need to calm down.”

  “Sure, I’ll just change and pour us a glass of Moscato from the bottle I found in your fridge earlier.”

  With a nod of my head, I move into my bedroom and head straight for the dresser. Digging into my jewelry box, I snatch up the blue velvet bag and dump the necklace into my open palm. Staring at the diamonds Alex had given me, I find myself reliving every one of our moments together. The medallion; the candle wax; the Oriole’s game; the leash, and, of course, the purple roses. All of the memories that hold desperately onto a bit of my heart. Dropping the necklace onto the dresser, I head for the bathroom and make a promise to myself: I am going to get over Alex.

  Chapter 7

  Though my night with Bea was therapeutic, I still feel a throbbing deep in my chest as I head into work on Monday. I called Will yesterday to tell him what I saw, but I was only able to get his voicemail. I didn’t feel like that was the sort of news I should leave in a message.