Surrender
To Me
Monica James
Surrender to Me
Published by THE EDGE Books
THE EDGE is an imprint of Sparklesoup Inc.
Copyright © 2013 Monica James
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DEDICATION
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” Dr. Seuss
Mum and dad, thank you for being You
Chapter 1
Round Trip
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin.
In a few moments, the flight attendants will be passing around the cabin to offer you hot or cold drinks. Alcoholic drinks are also available. We will also be screening our in-flight movie in a few moments. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. Thank you.”
So, here I sit, staring at my reflection once again. I am still the girl with eyes too big for her melancholy face. And, my frame is still so small my feet barely reach the sticky floor. I still laugh at everyone’s jokes, even though I don’t see the point of laughing at mindless nothingness. But this girl is not the same person she was, when she made her maiden journey back home eighteen months ago. I thought I would return a better, stronger woman, but sadly that notion is still up for debate.
My eyes look like they have seen a million tragedies, and sometimes I feel my life has been one huge calamity. Time really does change a person; I know it has changed me. But has that change been for better or worse?
Speaking of which.
If anyone was to tell me six months ago, when I left Los Angeles for Singapore on a scholarship to The Culinary Institute of America, that my best friend of eleven years would be getting married to her boyfriend Lucas, I would have said, ‘Get the fuck outta town!’ But here I am, sitting on a plane, headed back to Los Angeles to help celebrate the union of two wonderful people.
Veronica Donovan has been my best friend since I was twelve years old. We met under miserable circumstances when her parents died in a car accident, leaving their only child in the care of her Aunt Mary, who just happened to be our next door neighbor. Our love for the same things warranted us being BFF. And still to this day, we are just as close.
So, when my BFF told me she was getting married, and I was to be Maid of Honor, I did what any BFF would, I jumped on the first available flight to help her plan The Big Day.
I can’t help but wonder, if Veronica wasn’t getting married, would I have come back to Los Angeles? Life in Singapore was hard when I first arrived, as it was difficult going back to a place that held so many bad memories, but that’s why I returned. Those bad memories were obstructing my future, my future with a certain cerulean eyed boy named Jasper White. I wanted so desperately for those bad memories to fade, and I thought they would, but life never turns out how you plan. Once you reach a crossroad in your life, the path you choose sends you on a spiral of the unknown. And I was happy to uncover that unknown, as long as I knew the end result would lead me to Jasper. But, life has a funny way of throwing you on your ass when you least expect it. I never thought I was running away from Jasper, I thought I was running towards a future with him.
I thought wrong.
My face appears the same, maybe another year older. But that could be because I have on a little more makeup than I am used to wearing. Kohl lines my upper eyelids, highlighted with a hint of gold shimmer, and a light coral lip gloss shines on my full lips. My freckles are hidden under a heavy dusting of foundation and bronzer, giving my skin an unnatural golden tinge.
To match my painted face, I am wearing a white stylish chemise and slim black pants with heeled boots. Inside I am secretly missing my Converse, but they would look silly with an outfit such as this.
I guess I do look different from the girl that left.
But the biggest change is not how I look, or what I’m wearing. No, the biggest change is the reflection staring back at me, and that reflection is not mine. It’s of my travelling companion, who is accompanying me in business class for V’s wedding. With his slicked back sandy hair, and impeccable attire, he has the attention of every female aboard this plane, but this is old news.
Running my left hand over my face, I am startled when the BIG diamond, positioned on my wedding ring finger catches the light. I doubt I will ever feel quite comfortable with the size of this diamond. And I know a good number of girls would kill to obtain such a jewel, but seriously, if this plane goes down, I wouldn’t be surprised if this ring adds to the plummet with the weight of it.
Those blue eyes assess me, and I know he can’t read me like he once could. As I said before, I am a changed person. Whether that change is for the better, is still up for discussion.
Staring at the reflection of those eyes watching me closely, I realize they haven’t changed since the first time I saw them.
And those blue eyes belong to the man I am going to marry.
That man being Harper Holden.
*****
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have started our descent in preparation for landing. Please make sure your tray tables are up, and your seats are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened, and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you, or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to pick up any remaining cups and glasses."
As I am jolted awake, my eyes take in the smoggy Los Angeles skyline-I’m home.
Looking over at Harper, I am amazed at how immaculate he looks. His manicured fingers are picking some fluff off his Armani suit jacket, and not a hair is out of place. This man does not look like he has just flown halfway across the world. I on the other hand, probably look a mess.
“Everything okay babe?” he asks.
And that’s the million dollar question.
The irony of life never ceases to amaze me. Flying back into LAX shouldn’t cause such feelings of despair, but sadly it does. I really thought the next time I returned to LA, it would be because I was coming home to stay, coming home to Jasper.
But again I was mistaken.
“I’m fine,” I reply, wearing my bravest smile.
It saddens me to admit that being back here causes feelings of despair, as this city used to bring me such comfort. I mean I was running back here, only eighteen months ago, to escape Singapore and Harper, and now, how the tables have turned.
“Are you sure? You look a little unwell,” Harper asks, taking in my pallor.
“I’m just tired. It was a long flight, and I know V is going to make me her personal wedding slave,” I joke, attempting to steer him off the topic of my obvious anxiety.
Harper reaches over to stoke my face with the back of his fingers. “It’ll be good practice for our big day. This way you can do your homework as well as help Veronica. It’s a win-win situation,” he says while giving me a genuine smile.
But I squirm, as Har
per and I are yet to set a date, and he keeps pushing for a time within the next six months. I on the other hand, am just getting used to the idea of becoming Mrs. Ava Holden, and have every excuse in the book to why I am putting off penciling in a date. Whether its work, or school, or exams- I can’t commit because I don’t know what my schedule will be like in six months’ time. I ignore the niggling feeling that these are just excuses, as there is only one reason why.
Being in business class has its perks, like being permitted off the plane first. It is a nice change from being squished in coach, but the stuffiness of all the wealthy passengers is trying. Harper, being one of the bigwigs of a globally successful company, will not travel in anything but business class. I think this is a little pretentious of him, but he says he’s worked hard to get where he is. So if flying business class floats his boat, then so be it.
That was the reason why Harper and I moved to Singapore in the first place. It was Harper’s dream to move up the corporate ladder and one day rule his own empire, and he is not far off from accomplishing his dreams. I am proud of his accomplishments, as I know how hard he has worked, but I still think all this business class and coach discrimination is unfair. Just because you gross millions of dollars, doesn’t make you a better person than someone with a modest income. I am humbled that way. In my profession everyone is equal, and we all have to eat. I cook and create for everyone regardless of their race, gender or pay packet, and hope they like my food enough to come back for more.
After going through customs quickly, (another perk of business class) we arrive into the noisy, chaotic LAX. Harper has organized a driver to take us to the very snobbish Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles, which will be our home for the next two weeks. I hear the likes of Madonna and George Clooney have stayed here. And here I am, staying in the same hotel as these famous celebrities.
How completely unnecessary.
Harper takes a hold of my sweaty palm, and I tell myself they are only sweating because of the stifling weather, not for another reason. Excusing myself quickly, explaining I need to go outside to make a quick phone call to my mom, I leave Harper to search for our driver.
As soon as I exit the doors, the heat punches me in the face. Wow, it is hot. I wish I had dressed in something more casual, but I find myself feeling guilty for not wearing the beautiful outfits Harper has bought for me.
I dial and place the phone to my ear, however before it connects, I subtly terminate the call, and after twenty seconds, I let out a forced laugh. This is all a charade, because I am not talking to anyone. Waving at Harper through the glass as he is looking at me intently, he gives me a quick half smile, and I turn my back on him, because Harper has eyes like a hawk. This is all make-believe, because I am not out here to make a call. I hastily do what I intended to by coming out here, and then head back inside.
Harper is still trying to spot our driver, which I presume will be holding up a little, ‘Mr. Harper Holden’ sign, just like they do in the movies. It really is uncalled for, as I would have been happy catching a cab. But the sight of turning up to The Four Seasons in a cab is unheard of. Whatever-these exclusive people and their rules are a foreign concept to me, so I am just along for the ride.
I notice some rich snob checking Harper out, and it doesn’t bother me as much as it should, as Harper is handsome and never lacking female suitors. With his 6’3 frame towering over my 5’1, I look even shorter in his company. His thick, but styled eyebrows complement his deep blue eyes, which sometimes appear grey if reflected in a certain light. He has a strong jaw line which is always clean shaven, and there is a slight cleft in his chin, giving him an almost overconfident look. His sandy hair is always styled and slicked back, giving him a very corporate look, even on the weekends. I guess that is because he is always dressed in a suit and tie. Sometimes he loses the tie, but he is always dressed to impress. I on the other hand prefer my well-loved jeans and Converse, Harper however, does not, hence my outfit.
“Ava!” I hear faintly, shaking me out of my thoughts.
Looking around and seeing no one I recognize, I brush it off as just being the ghosts of this airport. I recall promising myself that airports have caused me nothing but pain and sadness, and I was to change that the next time I was here. So far, I have failed miserably sticking to that affirmation. Although, this does count as a happy time, I’ll be seeing V soon.
“Ava!” I hear it again.
I look around again and before I have time to speak, I am hit with a torpedo of all things, Veronica Donovan. Well I guess I will see her sooner than expected.
She is holding me in a death grip, and I hug her back just as tightly, as I love this girl with all my heart.
She lets me go, and there are tears running down her heart shaped face and over her trembling lips. Her long chestnut hair is now black, and she has taken her lip ring out, but apart from that, she looks exactly the same as when I saw her last, which was the day I left. We promised to visit, but life, it got a hold of me and didn’t let go.
I am now also crying, as I didn’t realize how much I missed her, and her friendship. She has the ability to make me laugh regardless of my mood, and that’s quite an achievement when I get grouchy. Hence the name of my cat Oscar, who has been in her care while I’ve been away. I don’t want to think about how I came about owning Oscar. Too many tender emotions I can’t deal with.
“Oh Ava, oh my God I have missed you!” beams V, holding me out at arm’s length to look at me.
Taking in my clothes, she whistles. “You look like my friend, but who are you?”
I don’t want to read too much into that comment because sometimes, I wonder that myself.
Avoiding the topic of my attire, I chuckle lightly while asking, “What are you doing here? Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” I quickly add.
Deep down I knew my friend would be here. We both know one another too well, which are the benefits of being best friends for as long as we have.
“Coming to pick up my best friend of course!” she answers, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.
“You didn’t have to do that,” says a slightly annoyed Harper who has sauntered over to us.
Oh shit, here we go.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. It’s the least I can do for my Maid of Honor.”
It hasn’t even been two minutes and they are already at it.
Harper and V have a strong dislike for one another, I dare say hatred. The feeling is reciprocated, and they only ‘get along’ for my sake. I know if I wasn’t around, they both would happily murder each other and not think twice about it. This is going to be an awkward couple of weeks.
“I have a chauffeur booked to drive us to the hotel. You went to all this trouble for nothing,” Harper says sarcastically.
“Well you can go with your driver as I’m only here for Ava,” V rebukes while reaching for my travel bag, and throwing it over her shoulder smugly.
“V!” I scold.
“What? He’s obviously got his knickers in a knot about the driver, I am only trying to be helpful,” she replies shrugging.
She is not trying to be helpful at all.
Harper kisses the top of my head, knowing he has lost this battle with V.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel,” he says, and walks off as he spots the driver with his little sign.
“See ya, jackass!” V shouts, waving mockingly at Harper, who glares at her over his shoulder.
“Veronica!” I chew out.
“What?” she replies innocently.
“You could have at least waited until he couldn’t hear you.”
“Why? I don’t care. I want him to hear me. What’s he going to do, hate me more than he already does? Pleasseee, that ship has sailed,” she laughs while making a beeline for the exit, and I follow with a small smile on my face.
This is my friend, the little firecracker that is Veronica Donovan. I really don’t know why I am surprised, as she was act
ually a lot nicer than I thought she would be.
We finally find her car after roaming the parking lot aimlessly for twenty minutes, and as I am attempting to jam my luggage into her tiny VW, I notice a sparkly something blinding me as it catches the sunlight.
Her engagement ring.
“V, your ring is stunning,” I gasp, looking at her beautiful, white gold solitaire engagement ring.
“Thanks. Isn’t it just beautiful? Lucas picked it out all on his own. He knows me too well,” she replies while holding out her hand, looking at the stunning diamond.
I flinch, wishing I could say the same thing about Harper.
“Where’s Lucas?” I ask, hopping into the passenger seat.
She starts up the car, which she has had forever, and I love this car as it brings back so many memories- good memories.
“Lucas is organizing the entertainment. I have no idea what he’s got planned, but that’s his one and only job, so he better not screw it up,” V replies with a playful smirk as she looks into her mirror.
I know that look.
“V?” I question as I look over my shoulder, wondering why her eyes are twinkling in mischief.
But she ignores me and frantically makes a right hand turn, zipping out into traffic and cutting off Harper’s driver.
What am I going to do with this girl? Good to see some things never change.
“Why are you dressed like that?” she asks looking over at me, scrunching up her face.
She never ceases to surprise me with her candor.
“Like what?” I reply, knowing exactly what she means.
“Like you have a huge stick up your butt. Where’s your Converse? Don’t get me wrong, you look smokin,’ but a little too proper for me.”
Looking down at my clothes, I know they are prim, but I feel guilty not wearing them, as they cost way too much money to just sit in my closest, collecting dust.
“I like my clothes. Besides, I need to wear stuff like this for work.” I cringe as soon as the words escape my lips as it’s a lame ass excuse.
Surrender to Me (I Surrender Trilogy Book 2) Page 1