Seeing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Good, that’s a little better. Thank you. Now when you leave here tonight, after you have drunk the entire contents of my bar and had your fill of the wonderful food that has been traversing your tables, please - I am begging you here, and we all know how little I do that - please think of the thousands of children that are out there this evening with nothing and no one. They’re not fed and I can assure you they are certainly not laughing. They may be on the streets like Sophie or maybe they’re in their bedrooms, thinking of the man who is coming up the stairs to beat the crap out of them. Or maybe they’re just trying to put enough drugs inside themselves to take the edge off the constant pain they’re tortured with. They can’t get out of it without you, so please give everything you can and help me make it better for as many of them as I can. I need you to help me because I can’t do it on my own. No matter how much you think I’m worth, I still don’t have enough for this. I know how they feel and saving just one more each day really isn’t good enough. We need to be better than that. I damn well need to be better than that,” he states as he wrenches off his bow tie and flicks the top button on his shirt. Rubbing at the back of his neck and looking at the floor, he wanders across the stage to the top hat full of cheques and frowns. He doesn’t think it’s enough. How can it ever be enough when you’ve lived through this shit yourself? My tears start falling as I look at the anguish in his eyes. The way he drops his head makes me want to soothe his soul and run to him, grab hold of him and tell him how wonderful he is. All I can see is that blood spattered little boy, cowering in a cupboard at the mercy of a bastard father, and I’m falling apart inside, trying to mentally send every loving emotion I’ve got up to him on that stage.

  The entire room is silent apart from soft sobbing all around me. Tears are streaming down my face as I look up at the man I love. His face is strained with tension, his eyes glassy as if he might burst into tears at any moment, but as that wonderful smile starts to form again on his face, he looks at me with reverence and a beautiful solace takes over his eyes again. He lifts his eyes to the crowd again.

  “Someone told me something tonight that was entirely unexpected and simply extraordinary to me. It has made me feel like a chance has been thrown my way to live a better life, that some kind of angel has been sent to help and to shine a light into the darkness. For the first time in a fair few years, I was speechless. I couldn’t find the words I needed and I… I still can’t. But I hope that with time, I will be able to show that person that I have become better, that I have become more than I currently am or have been. This is my way of showing that person how much more I want to be for them and how much more they deserve from me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be worthy of their praise or affection but I’ll try, as hard as I can, I’ll try.”

  He lowers his head a little and exhales softly at the floor, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking out at some imaginary piece of dirt on the floor while I stare at him in shock. I’m gobsmacked, utterly mind blown. Was that for me? That’s... I don’t know what that was. It was unbelievable; that’s what that was… is. That’s Alexander White up there, talking about me, Beth Scott, caterer.

  My hand is on my heart, which is going ten to the dozen and I’m willing him to look down at me but he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at the ground as if he’s scared to death that he’s just given too much of himself away or something. The room is silent again, apart from the occasional manly gasp and then another sob from some woman who’s obviously as emotionally wrecked at his speech as I am. And still all I can think is oh my God. Did he really just say all that?

  I try, really I do, but remaining casual just isn’t possible. I can’t help myself as the tears pour down my face. I desperately want to launch myself at him, to hold him and tell him I love him all over again, but just as I’m beginning to rise from my chair, the silence is broken.

  “Here’s twenty five thousand,” a lady yells at the back of the room. His head shoots up and he finds her. Turning around and wiping at my tears, I see an older lady waving a cheque above her head.

  “Thank you, Jean,” Alex calls back at her shakily, his face still a little tense.

  “Fifty,” a man shouts from across the other side of the room.

  “John, that’s quite remarkable coming from you. Thank you,” he replies with a small smile returning.

  “Oh, you’re all being pathetic. You buy cars worth more than that, you shits. One hundred and fifty,” says large man from the next table. Alex begins grinning like a fool and jumps off the stage, walking over to Freddie and shaking his hand.

  “Two hundred. To see Alexander White proving he’s actually got a fucking heart in there somewhere is worth every penny,” calls a man at the back. Alex turns and moves towards him.

  I follow him around the room, watching as he thanks every single one of them and charms the pants off the entire room. My heart swells with pride and my stomach tightens with astonishment at the admission he’s just made. He’s pleaded with people, begged for their help with every fibre of his being and shown a softer side of the wolf that they normally see and they’re reciprocating with generosity and kindness. Just beautiful, open emotion from people like these, astonishing really. Who would have thought it? Perhaps they’re not all the venomous arses I thought they were after all.

  Fifteen minutes later, he’s leaping back onto the stage and dumping a rather large amount of cheques into the top hat at the front, which is now overflowing onto the table and floor.

  “Right, now one more thing and I’ll let you get back to enjoying yourselves. I have pleaded like a fool and you have rewarded me with extortionate amounts of money. Thank you. Obviously the pleading works. Tomorrow I will probably become the fucking irritable and conceited bastard you all know and love so much, so please, if you want to watch me beg again, come and find me. This is a one night only affair and it won’t be happening again anytime soon so I suggest you make the most of it. For tonight and only tonight, you can pay me to beg for it. Well, for the right price anyway. There is only one person here who will ever hear me beg after this evening has finished, I can promise you that,” he says with a chuckle as his eyes find mine again. I blow him a kiss while thinking of the things that I could make him beg for and hoping to hell that he actually did mean me.

  “So anyway, that’s enough from me. Enjoy your evening, and by the way, if I don’t find signed cheques from every one of you by Monday morning, be warned that I will come after you relentlessly, and you all know how much I love to do that. It will be entirely your own fault if I get the money out of you in some other more sinister manner, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourselves for not being quite as generous as you should have been.” He smiles as his body language stiffens a little, showing the heartless and ruthless businessman again.

  “Arsehole,” someone shouts from across the room with a laugh attached. Alex grins wickedly.

  “Ben, you’re more than fucking welcome. Yours will be the first name I look for.”

  He does a mock salute with his hand at the band and they light up the room with the sound of Mack the Knife, which is slightly drowned out by the roars and screams that come from the rising crowd who stand and cheer him. They’re idolising him, as am I, and as he ambles his way off the stage toward me with the most enchanting of smiles, I almost run to him. Trying to keep the elation from bursting from my seams any more than it already is doing, I throw my arms around his neck and pull him into me. He swings me in the air as I giggle like a triumphant child, and then lowering me down to the floor, he takes my hand in his and leads me to the middle of the dance floor. Kissing me tenderly, he reaches his arms around my waist and then slides them to a dance hold, dragging his finger seductively along my body as he does so and gazing into my eyes again.

  “Are you ready, Elizabeth?” he whispers into my ear as he grazes his lips across my neck.

  “Yes, I think so,” I reply, trying not to notice the beautiful ache in my heart and groin, which
is currently clenching wonderfully at the thought of love, connection and promises of more.

  “Good, because I am, too. I’ve never been more ready for you,” he says and I gaze back at him with unashamed love and adulation. “Say it again. Tell me again so I know it’s real,” he asks with a soft smile, his blue eyes darkening a touch and his lashes blinking.

  “I love you, Alex White,” I answer, knowing it’s what he wants to hear, and before I have a chance to say anything else, he twirls us around the floor as if we’re in some kind of Viennese waltz. My feet struggle to keep up but his relentless grasp of my waist holds me pinned to him. I could probably take my feet off the floor and just hold on while gazing at his beaming face. My heart swims with joy and from what I can tell from his smile, he’s thankfully feeling the same. The music, the passion, the emotion of the evening is everything I could ever want from him. In his way, he’s given me his all and I love him all the more for it, and it appears, as luck would have it, that he might just love me, too.

  Slowly, other couples start to fill the floor and before I know it, we’re inundated with requests for dances. Every woman wants a chance to hear Mr. White beg for it and every man wants to hear Mr. White begging to give me back to him. He makes an awful lot more money in the next hour or so.

  Eventually though, my feet give out and I have to sit. Returning to the table and thankfully sitting, I rub at my feet and take a long drink of water. Alex is somewhere in the room, still begging for it. At one point I actually saw him on his knees in front of a very old lady who was blushing furiously and slapping him away from her.

  “Well, well, Beth, how lovely to see you. I must say you’ve surprised us all.” Henry chuckles as he sits down beside me.

  “Henry DeVille. Or should I say sir?” I giggle. “You old scoundrel, how are you? I saw Sarah earlier and I was hoping I’d get to say hello to you,” I reply, regarding the tall, blond man, who is now a Lord unbelievably.

  “I’m fine, really very good actually, but I lost my chance at a dance. Do you think you’ve got one more in you?” he asks, his eyes twinkling in mirth as he grabs at my hand and hauls me back to my feet in the way that only Henry can.

  “Of course I have. Come on, let’s go,” I reply with a smile. I don’t really but I’m not about to let the side down. Just as we step onto the dance floor, a slower song starts and I look at him a little nervously. He simply wraps his arms around my waist and draws me towards him.

  “I’m sure he won’t mind, Beth. I know him quite well. Don’t worry. Besides, I might make him beg for more money yet. I’m actually quite enjoying his begging. The suggestiveness of this dance might get him on his knees for me.” I throw my head back and laugh as he pulls me in again and starts to move us about. “So tell me how you are.”

  We chat amicably as we dance. It’s nice to catch up with him, and knowing that he and Sarah are a little at odds is disconcerting for me. Henry was like the big brother I never had. On many occasions while Belle and Sarah were giggling their way into the night, I would flag early and Henry would take me home, or take me to my room. He was a good and decent man and would never have thought of anything inappropriate, and besides, they’d always been so in love.

  Belle and I watched the two of them fall in love and get married, although I didn’t go to the wedding because I was sick. Belle was Sarah’s best friend in school and even though the union was never really accepted by his parents because of Sarah not coming from a good enough family, they made it through the tough times, so why not now? Not wanting to alert anyone to the possible problems in their relationship, I move slightly closer so I can whisper in his ear.

  “Are you and Sarah okay, Henry?” I ask softly.

  “Fine,” he clips abruptly and stiffens a little. Okay, so they’re absolutely not.

  “Oh, Henry, don’t be an arse,” I say as I raise my thumb to the crease in his forehead and smile. “You know you still love her. What’s going on?” I continue with a small smile. He sighs.

  “Things change, Beth. Life becomes more difficult. I’m sure you’ll find out with the man you’ve decided to take on. He is challenging to say the least. Watch yourself. That’s a predator I won’t be able to protect you from,” he replies with a rather tight squeeze as he brushes an escaping curl behind my ear sweetly.

  “I’ll worry about me, you worry about her,” I say, grinning and pretending to tickle him.

  “You always were a lovely girl. Such a shame...” he mutters as he dances us to the corner of the floor and kisses my hand, looking a little sad. I put both my hands on his arms and encourage him to open up if he wants to. He clearly doesn’t.

  “Look after yourself, Beth. It is lovely to see you. Please say hello to Belle for me.” With that, he leans in and gives me a hug. Kissing me on both cheeks and then again on the hand, he sits me down onto my chair and frowns. “Your feet must be killing you,” he says as he squats down to the floor, rubs his hands down my legs a tad too suggestively and slips off my shoes. Squeezing my feet and looking up at me, he chuckles. “Well I haven’t done that for a fair few years, have I?” I giggle and beam down at him, realising how much I miss him in my life. He was always such a good influence, so caring, a very decent man.

  “No, I think the last time was Belle’s twenty fifth. If I remember rightly, I was just about to throw up on you. Thank you, kind sir,” I reply with a snort of laughter.

  “You’re most welcome. I’ll see you again soon, Beth. Take care,” he says as he leaves me. I smile and wiggle my toes in the carpet, thanking heaven because my feet really are killing me.

  Now, where is the man of my dreams? Oh no, my reality actually… I giggle again and take a drink of champagne as I scan the room in the hope of finding him somewhere, probably still on his knees.

  Chapter 29

  Alexander

  W hore.

  White, you’re a fucking idiot. Of course she was playing you. You should have known better and trusted your instincts. Why would anyone love you? You’re a worthless piece of shit and you know it. Using her ridiculous notions of sweet and charming to lull you into a false sense of security, fucking lies. Pretending to be in love with you, pretending to give herself to you simply to help that fucking bastard, DeVille distract you from his plan to demolish you.

  Why they were doing it was still a source of consternation but that’s what they were doing. Between them they were destroying him, and fucking laughing at him in the process.

  He pretended to be asleep as he recounted the night’s events and listened to her breathing beside him. He’d watched the whole charade from the back of the room. He’d been about to go to her and say the words she wanted to hear, but instead he’d quietly watched as Henry held her and whispered in her ear, as she’d pressed her body into him seductively and roared with laughter, probably at how well they were doing at playing their nasty little game. Fucking bitch.

  He’d stupidly lost himself in her this evening as he so often did, but this time it had been with thoughts of a future, of love, of marriage and even children. The possibility of removing the constant shade that his life had always been under had been so enticing to him that he’d offered himself to her, body and soul, in front of people who knew nothing of the man beneath. What a fucking idiot.

  He’d almost lost it and beaten the fuck out of DeVille, but then he’d realised that as much as he’d like to, he would be letting them know that he had found out what was going on. So instead, he’d continued watching as she’d laid her arms on the arsehole, the same way she had done when she’d lied to him about loving him. He’d stared at her lovely legs as the cock put his hands all over them, removed her shoes and rubbed her feet in the way that only a lover would. He’d felt his heart shatter in that moment - the heart that he’d idiotically allowed to become free again. His whole body had felt numb with something that felt like death, and it still did. Even the beatings from his bastard of a father hadn’t made him feel quite that empty. She might
as well have put a tie round his neck and dragged him across the floor, stamping on his face as she did it. Fuck.

  Eventually he’d brought her home and fucked her again, just once more for good measure. Just one more time to rid himself of the ridiculous thoughts of more, and as she’d softly stroked his cheek and whispered those enchanting words again, all he could see was Henry and his conniving.

  This was done, finished.

  He needed to get his fucking house in order again and quickly. How much had he missed while he was busy thinking of peace and undeserved forever afters? Fucking ridiculous. What had the scheming shit being doing in his absence? What had he been planning? No wonder she constantly reminded him of time off and relaxing. She was doing it to make him forget about the fact that he had a major shit storm coming at him. Clever girl. Whore, yes, but very clever indeed.

  He should have noticed it all really, her amazing witty retorts, her ability to manipulate others. Instead he’d thought it was her learning from him. God, he was just as egotistical as Pascal. He hadn’t even seen her manoeuvring her way around him because he was so self-obsessed that he assumed her innocence was real. He’d been so busy being confounded by her that he hadn’t even contemplated that she was a fake.

  “All war is based on deception, Sun Tzu.” The thought lingered in his mind like a snake winding its way around his brain cells, stimulating the senses and reviving the deadened man that he knew himself to be and letting the haunted child retreat to the furthest corners of his soul again, where it fucking belonged, where he could contain it and condemn it.

  Suddenly she moved against him, kissed him on the shoulder and walked across the bedroom and out of the door. More than likely going to let her lover know what was going on, to tell him how much she loved him and what a pathetic waste of a human being Alexander White was.