Allegiant

by Sara Mack

“And the first free minute you have you run off to Shel?”

  I get defensive. “She’s my best friend! I haven’t seen her in over a month. I saw you last week!”

  I can hear Dane exhale. “It feels like you’re putting me off on purpose.”

  Ding! Ding! Ding! You are correct, sir.

  “I’m sorry,” he quickly adds. “Things here are nuts. Teagan, work…”

  I shudder at the sound of Teagan’s name. I don’t know who’s worse, her or Meg. “What’s going on?”

  Dane’s tone turns sullen. “She’s involved her dad to get her way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “When your boss advises you to reconsider certain decisions in your life or your job is on the line I’d say that makes you 105% sure.”

  My mouth falls open. “That’s terrible! Can he do that? I mean, legally?”

  “It’s a family owned business. I’m pretty sure he can do whatever he damn well pleases.”

  A sick feeling starts to wrap around my stomach. Why do I feel like this is all my fault? I mean, it’s really not; Dane’s the one who decided to break off his engagement. But, I am involved and Teagan knows it. “What did he say exactly?”

  “He said he knows I’m a good kid, but he has to look out for his only daughter. He said if I can’t find it within myself to follow through on my proposal, he’d understand – but I should be prepared to seek other employment.”

  What he says angers me. “I can’t believe this. You love your job.”

  “Don’t I know it?” He pauses then laughs sarcastically. “He did say he would write me a glowing letter of recommendation.”

  “This isn’t right.” I sit up. “There has to be something you can do.”

  “Yeah, there is,” he says, disgusted. “Marry Teags.”

  “Besides that,” I groan.

  Seconds of silence pass then Dane clears his throat. “You know what? I’ll figure something out. I have a savings. I’m employable. I can work for my dad if I have to.”

  I frown. I know that’s the last thing that would make him happy. “I’m sorry. This whole situation sucks.”

  I can picture him with a wry smile. “Thanks for commiserating with me. Although a real life, in-person hug would be better.”

  I feel terrible for him and honestly wish I was there to hug him. “Consider this a virtual one,” I say softly before I really think about it.

  “Thanks,” he says, somewhat sad. “So, when will I get to see you?”

  I hesitate. If I tell him I can’t see him it will only make things worse, and he doesn’t need that right now. “I’ll work on it,” slips out before I can catch it. “Seriously, I’m not trying to be a jerk. It’s just…I have a lot going on right now.”

  A cool arm slips around my shoulders from behind, and I immediately tense. I look out of the corner of my eye to see James take a seat next to me, his hip pressing against mine. He flashes me a smile, and I know he doesn’t know who I’m talking to.

  “I guess I can buy that for now,” Dane concedes.

  I try to relax under James’ arm. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Why?” He sounds confused at the abrupt end to our conversation.

  “I have company.” I smile at James, so he won’t be suspicious.

  “Who?”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. ‘Bye.” I end the call before he can ask any more questions and discreetly silence my ringer just in case he calls back. “Hey.” I toss my phone aside and turn toward James. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  “Surprise,” he smiles at me. “Who was that?” He nods toward my discarded phone.

  “Shel,” I say quickly. “I’m going to visit her tomorrow and stay the weekend. I volunteered to help her with a charity dinner at the hospital.”

  James frowns.

  “What? I told you I needed some girl time.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Who else is going to be volunteering at this dinner?”

  My face scrunches in confusion. “How should I know? People from the hospital, other volunteers like Shel and me.”

  “Volunteers like Dane?”

  I lean away from him. “Seriously? I thought we were past this.”

  He tries to look innocent and says, “I just want to be prepared.”

  “No,” I say adamantly. “Dane won’t be there.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.” I narrow my eyes. “You’re doing that control freak thing again.”

  His face relaxes. “Sorry.”

  I close my book and push it aside. “What brings you by tonight?”

  James looks around the room. “Well, there’s a football game on…”

  My mouth falls open dramatically. “You’re using me for my television?”

  “We can snuggle,” he offers with a smile.

  I smirk. “Anything to get your way.” I push myself off the bed, extend my hand, and lead him to the living room. I hate watching football. But James is here, we’re no longer fighting, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

  I reach the couch before James does, and he pulls my hand back so I turn to face him. He reaches out and places his free hand around the base of my neck, under my hair, and holds my head gently as he lowers his lips to mine. My heart wants to burst.

  “You didn’t get enough of this last night?” I tease when he moves to kiss my forehead.

  “I love you,” he says against me.

  “I love you, too,” I say, and it’s the truth. Football, control freak, Guardian, and all. I’ll always love him.

  Until the end of forever.

  Chapter 18

  “Wow.”

  Shel leans in to me. “When I helped set up the tables yesterday, this room looked nothing like this,” she whispers.

  Shel and I stand like statues, mouths agape, as we survey the ballroom for the hospital charity dinner. Dressed in black pants, white tuxedo shirts, black vests and bowties, I have to say we resemble penguins. I clutch the round serving tray in my hands and swallow. I’ve never been to an event this fancy.

  I was mistaken in thinking that the dinner was taking place at the actual hospital. Instead, it’s at an upscale hotel in the area, called The Inn at St. John’s, which is just outside the city of Ann Arbor. The room is set for roughly 350 guests, all from prestigious local and international organizations. Each business has their own table or tables, distinctly marked with their company names and logos inside tall, fall-themed centerpieces that are lit from within. The tables hold more china than I thought imaginable for one dinner, and they are draped to the floor in cloths that alternate in rich autumn hues from chocolate brown to emerald green to rusty red. The chairs are covered as well, in the same deep tones, each with a precisely tied caramel colored bow. The chandeliers in the ballroom are dimly lit, which allows the centerpieces and tea lights on each table give off the feeling of a more intimate dinner. A string quartet tunes their instruments in one corner; while in another, bartenders busy themselves stocking liquor and wiping glasses.

  As my eyes roam the room, I find a long buffet table that is currently being filled with every hors d’oeuvre you can think of. A tall ice sculpture bearing the University of Michigan hospital logo graces the center of the buffet, of which I can see the base being filled with jumbo shrimp and oysters on the half shell. The coordinator for the event, Dana, told us volunteers that we are to clear the empty hors d’oeuvre plates as we find them, along with any empty glasses, and return them to the kitchen. Later, after dinner, the table will be filled with desserts and we’ll be on the same mission. During dinner, we are to clear empty plates and retrieve drinks from the bar when asked. She said we’d be able to eat as thanks for our service, so I’m really looking forward to trying some of this food. My mind wanders to Garrett. He would love something like this; although, he would probably choose to spend all of his
time in the kitchen.

  Dana claps her hands. “Okay, happy volunteers,” she says. “Our guests should start arriving any minute.” She divides our group down the center with a sweeping gesture. “This half works the right side of the room, this half the left.” She eyes two women standing over to the side, dressed in navy pencil skirts and white blouses. “Aubrey and Sydney, you two start with coat check and handle the rush. I’ll switch you out when dinner starts.”

  We disperse to our sides of the room and luckily, Shel and I get the side with the hors d’oeuvre table. I get an up close and personal look, taking in all of the varieties of pre-dinner snacks. There’s your typical cheese and crackers, although intricately displayed in a waterfall effect, and crudité with a variety of dips. Mini quiche. Any and all kinds of fruit. The shrimp and the oysters. Caviar. Different variations of meatballs. Salmon pate. Bacon wrapped chicken bites. It’s endless. I lean over to Shel. “Who can eat this much food?” I ask. “What’s left for dinner?”

  Shel shrugs. “Rich people? I guess when you pay $350 a plate, you get your money’s worth.”

  “$350 a plate?” Holy crap!

  As the room starts to fill with the first partygoers, the quartet begins to play. I’m surprised by their first piece. “‘Is this Pumped Up Kicks?’” I ask Shel.

  She tips her head toward the music then raises her eyebrows in appreciation. “Sounds like it,” she says. “Not bad. Who knew Foster the People was a popular instrumental choice?”

  I smile and turn my attention to the filling room. The men wear business suits, some with bright colored ties while others leave their collars open. The women are dressed in an array of different styles from cocktail dresses, to skirts, to dressy slacks, and tops. As the guests approach the food table, I can’t help but notice that no one forgot their jewelry tonight. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, wristwatches and cuff links all manage to catch the dim light and reflect it. I’m beginning to think this dinner is more for show than charity.

  “So,” Shel asks, “have you decided?”

  My forehead pinches. “About what?”

  “When you’re going to see Dane again.”

  I give her an exasperated look. We had this discussion in depth last night when I arrived, after I told her about my run in with Teagan at the Halloween party and the resulting conversation and kiss with Dane. “No. I haven’t decided.”

  “Well,” she lifts her tray, “spend this mindless night thinking about it. I’m off to collect dirty dishes.”

  I raise my tray as well and follow her lead, winding my way through the tables in the opposite direction. As I walk, I think about the conversation we had last night. I got no useful advice at all from Shel in regard to Dane. There’s not one reason she can think of for me to end what I started with him. I hate that I am in this situation all alone. At some point I’m going to have to be the bad guy, and I wish there was one human that could understand why.

  I spend the cocktail hour clearing more empty glasses than plates. Turns out, wealthy benefactors like to drink, especially vodka martinis and scotch on the rocks. As I burn another path in the carpet to the kitchen, a man in my periphery catches my attention. I slow my walk. Is he staring at me? I blink and continue on my path. No. That’s impossible.

  My next round through the room yields yet more glasses and a run-in with Shel. “How’s it going?” I ask.

  “This is a lot of work!” she says. “No wonder they’re feeding us.”

  I agree. I fill my tray as full as I dare and make another trip to the kitchen. Not thinking, I take the same route as before and pass the same gentleman. I could swear he’s watching me again. I get brave and try to meet his eyes, which he quickly shifts to another person standing in his group. Who is this guy? I’ve never seen him before.

  After I empty my tray in the dish area, I wait around for Shel to appear. When she rounds the corner, I approach her side. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she says as she empties her tray.

  “Look, I’m probably imagining things, but I swear there is a guy out there staring at me.”

  Shel’s eyes light up. “Oh! Is he cute?”

  “No! He’s an older guy, probably my dad’s age.”

  Shel frowns. “Creeper.”

  “Come out there with me and see if I’m being paranoid.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Where is he at? What does he look like?”

  We start to walk. “He’s standing with a group a few feet from the kitchen entrance. He’s about James’ height, with black hair and a mustache.”

  “James’ height?” Shel asks me, surprised.

  “Yes, James’ height. Why is that weird?”

  She shrugs. “It’s just…you haven’t mentioned him in awhile. It’s odd hearing his name.”

  If she only knew. “C’mon,” I say and refuse to elaborate on my choice of description. “I’ll walk near him and you watch.”

  We exit the kitchen, and I spot the guy still standing with the group. I head toward him, yet parallel, and Shel heads opposite me. I busy myself collecting plates and glasses, and I swear I can feel eyes on me. They might be Shel’s though, and I may just be hyper-sensitive to the situation. I walk further into the room, looking amongst the tables, picking up an item here or there and eventually make my way back to Shel’s side.

  “So?” I ask.

  “He is definitely staring at you.”

  Ick. “Why?” I ask like she will have the answer.

  “How am I supposed to know? Are you sure you’ve never seen him before? Maybe he recognizes you from Bay Woods.”

  “Shel, you’re a genius. That has to be it.” Where else would I have run into someone with money?

  The string quartet ends their latest song, and our attention is drawn to their set up as Dana speaks into the microphone. She asks everyone to find their seats as dinner will be served momentarily. Shel and I balance our trays through the crowd that converges on the center of the room, and we slowly make our way back toward the kitchen. As we pass the last group of tables, I can’t help but notice the man taking his seat. My eyes jump to the company name inside the centerpiece, and my stomach drops through the floor. The business name is Legionnaire.

  “It’s Dane’s boss!” I whisper to Shel, as we wait with the other volunteers along the back of the room while the Caesar salad is being served. “It has to be.”

  Shel looks wary. “Maybe, maybe not. He could just be someone who works there. Besides, how would he know who you were?”

  “I told you he threatened to fire Dane if he didn’t marry his daughter. Maybe Teagan showed him a picture of me or something.”

  Shel questions my logic. “She would go through that trouble? What, did she put an APB out on you?”

  I give her a dry look. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She does not like me.”

  “Still,” Shel sounds unsure, “if it is him, what’s he going to do? He’s probably just checking out his daughter’s competition.”

  I roll my eyes. “Great.” I look down at my outfit and tray. “I can just imagine what he’ll report back.”

  Dana approaches us and divides us down the center again. Half of us get to eat while the other half clears the room, and then we’ll switch. Thankfully, Shel and I are selected for the eating group, and I can avoid Mr. Meyer for the next hour. We head to the kitchen to collect our plates and then take a seat in a small meeting room at another location in the hall. Dinner is amazing, even though I’m nervous as all heck and can only manage to eat half of what I’m given. I feel really guilty about it, too. There are people who would kill to have filet mignon and lobster tail for free.

  Halfway through the meal, I hear James’ voice behind my ear. “What’s bothering you?”

  I turn to Shel. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

  When I locate the bathroom, I bend down to make sure the stalls are empty. When I turn around, James has already appeared behind me.

  “You know you’re
in the ladies room,” I tease.

  He gives me a crooked smile. “What’s going on?”

  “I think Teagan’s dad his here,” I tell him. “He’s been staring at me. I don’t know what that means, but it makes me really uncomfortable.”

  “Teagan, Dane’s fiancée?” James scowls.

  “Ex-fiancée. Her father is Dane’s boss and his company has a table at the party.”

  His frown deepens. “Have you met him before?”

  “Never. Shel thinks the guy might not even be him, just some dude who works at the same company.”

  “Hmm,” James contemplates. “I don’t like this. I’m going to stay close.”

  My eyes widen. “Do you think there’s going to be trouble?”

  “Not necessarily. But what if this guy turns out to be some creep?”

  Right. One Patrick-type in my life was enough. “Okay,” I agree. “Stay close.”

  He steps forward and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be around,” he says and evaporates.

  When the time comes to go back to clearing, I really don’t want to. Even though knowing James is near makes me feel better, I don’t want to be forced to strategically avoid this strange man for the rest of the night. So when Dana asks our group who would be interested in helping in the coatroom, I immediately volunteer.

  “Good idea,” Shel nods in agreement. She knows I’m anxious. “Let’s get through this so we can go home and relax.”

  The coatroom turns out to be incredibly boring, but easy; I spend my time straightening jackets and wraps. It’s just me, seeing as how the guests will leave sporadically. Dana said she might send Aubrey or Sydney back at the end of the night to help with any rush. People start to leave in small spurts immediately after dinner, which keeps me occupied. I’m busy spacing out the remaining coats, now that there is a little more room to spread them out, when a voice interrupts my OCD.

  “Excuse me? Miss?”

  I turn and find myself staring directly at who I think is Mr. Meyer. Damn it.

  He holds out his coat check ticket and smiles. “#1204.”

  I try to return his smile and take the stub from him. I locate his item, a long wool pea coat, and hand it to him over the coatroom door. “There you are, sir. Have a nice night.” I have to admit that up close he’s not a scary-looking guy, and he doesn’t appear to be assessing me now.