Tammy lingered a bit by the desk, hoping to see if the letter was from Mason. She loved everything romantic and was one of the few women in the office not struck down by jealousy yet.
“Thanks, Tammy. I’ve got to finish getting ready to go now.” Laura smiled and shook her head. Tammy was an amazing receptionist and was always prompt and pleasant with every person she encountered in person and on the phone. She was only a year removed from college, and her bright-eyed outlook and romantic sensibility hadn’t been completely destroyed by life in the city yet. Laura thought she was just the cutest thing.
She turned the envelope over in her hands. There was no return address, only the address to the office building. In one smooth slice she dragged her letter opener under the seam and withdrew a yellowed page with one ragged edge, a page torn out of a book.
As oftentimes the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.
And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.
But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.
***
“Huh. Oscar Wilde?” She thought the choice was rather interesting, since she had Mason had long since made up. “Maybe he was feeling wistful?” she told herself, and shrugged. She tossed the poem in her top drawer. Her appointment was in half an hour, and if she didn’t leave immediately she would be late.
***
She dashed out of the elevator, her heels clicking on the beige terrazzo floor of the lobby. Being so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the man eyeing her on her way out.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m so nervous!” Laura kept tugging on the belt of her sheer Elie Saab gown. The fabric was layers of whisper thin satin and tulle. The top layer was fully studded with gold metal flowers and patterned with hand-sewn embroidery in shades of blue and silver. The color of the gown beautifully enhanced the color of her eyes and made her pale blond hair look nearly white next to it. The halter collar echoed the pearl-studded one that Mason had given to her before their play date, which may have been the selling feature. She looked like walking moonlight.
Now in the car, Laura suddenly felt naked; the layers of sheer fabric, no matter how decorated, still made her feel like she was bare. She had her hairdresser curl and pin her hair up into a messy twist with loose tendrils escaping, creating a much more playful mood than she was feeling in that moment. “This is really our first date, and it’s the biggest event I’ve ever been to.”
As the minutes ticked down, the butterflies in her stomach ramped up. In that moment she was glad she was too anxious to eat anything. She was sure she would have vomited.
“Relax, Laura. You look radiant tonight, and we’re going to have fun.” He reached out and curled a tendril around his finger. “We can stay as long as you’re comfortable. I do this every year, so it’s old hat for me.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Just say the word and we’ll leave.”
Laura nodded and downed the last of her bottled water, but was looking forward to some booze to calm her nerves.
“Mason, this was all too much. The dress, the shoes, and the fact that you somehow managed to strong-arm my hairstylist into fitting me in for a last minute appointment – which was super impressive, by the way. What did you do?”
“You deserve all of this. It’s no trouble at all, except I’m not so sure I want you out in public in that dress anymore,” he chuckled. “You’re making it damn hard to look anywhere else. As for your stylist, that was actually easy. I offered him courtside Knicks tickets for the rest of the season. Thanks to me, he will fit you in whenever you want for the next six months.”
Laura snorted. “That’s an awful big bribe for only an hour of his time, but thank you. Now maybe I won’t wait so long to get a haircut.”
The car eased up to the curb. There were a ton of people rubbernecking over a velvet rope to get a glimpse of the next attendee. Mason’s driver opened their door, and Laura climbed out first.
The flashbulbs nearly blinded her. Every photographer and paparazzo in New York had to have been lined up along either side of the red carpet. She went deer in the headlights as Mason got out of the car behind her.
“What’s the matter?” he whispered in her ear.
“You didn’t tell me we were going to THE Met event. Thanks for downplaying the pomp of this thing.” She managed a strained smile as a few of the paps yelled questions about who Mason was with and if she was his girlfriend, and all of the usual prying questions.
The Acquisitions Fund Benefit was put on annually to raise money for new exhibits, to give members a sneak peak of how they put their collections together, and to showcase the research involved in choosing each exhibit. It was a swanky event for a girl who was happy with a warm beer at a Red Sox game.
“Come on. The longer you stand here the worse you’ll feel. Let’s get inside.” He rested his hand on her lower back and gave a gentle nudge. It took a moment, but finally, Laura remembered how to walk again.
Mason hurried her inside, away from the circus on the sidewalk.
As the doors closed behind them, Laura let out the breath she had been holding. She was more than a little peeved that Mason hadn’t told her all of the details. “Why didn’t you tell me exactly what this was? I feel like I was just fed to the lions!” she chided. “Thanks a lot, Mase!”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. Tears glistened in her eyes as she stared. “I am so sorry. I figured you knew. It was in all the papers last week.” Suddenly it dawned on him that she had been in a bubble with her own publication the entire week before. “I’m a twat. Forgive me.” He pulled her in for a hug. He hated seeing her cry.
“I’ll be okay. I think the nerves just have me all strung out right now. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” In fact, just being inside made her feel calmer.
Mason held out his elbow for her and led her through the lobby into the giant function room. Laura’s jaw dropped. The room was lit by hundreds of electric candles. Shades of red and gold played with the light in the space, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of old Chinese opium dens. Round tables for ten stretched out across the dark hardwood floor in every direction. There was space set for hundreds of people; she had never seen a function room for so many.
A server stopped to offer them both a flute of champagne, which Laura gladly accepted and downed in one gulp. Liquid courage it was for the evening.
“Let’s pace ourselves on the refreshments, hmmm?” Mason remarked after Laura swallowed a second glass.
“Sorry. I’m trying to settle my nerves.”
“Sit down. I’ll get you something to eat before you go too crazy. The champagne here is expensive. I’d hate to see it wasted.” He held out a chair at the nearest table. Laura sat, but felt a little petulant about it. She wasn’t appreciating being told what to do in this type of setting.
“So the menu for tonight is a contrived six course affair provided by an up and coming fusion chef whose name I can’t pronounce. I’m pretty sure I recognized the words chicken and some kind of mixture made from pomegranates?”
Laura giggled. The champagne bubbles had reached her head, yes, but the thing she loved most about Mason was that, despite the money and notoriety, he was still the same bloke from Wes
tern Massachusetts she knew who would go cow tipping with his buddies and hike the Berkshires with her. Money hadn’t changed him at all.
“I love you,” she blurted out.
Mason smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll believe you when you tell me without being liquored up first.” They had never discussed her slip on Skype from the week before. He decided to just let her think he didn’t hear her and let her say the words again on her own terms. Champagne not included.
“Can we go back to my apartment tonight? You haven’t seen my sweet pad in Brooklyn yet.”
The appetizers arrived. It looked like some kind of pate smeared on a water cracker with a chive on top. “I’d love to.” He turned up his nose, “So this is what forty-five hundred bucks gets you. I hope the entrée is a little more substantial.” Mason shook his head. He came every year because he was a member and loved the museum, but the absurdities always got to him.
“If not, there’s always one of the umpteen pizza parlors open late to grab a slice and beer.” Laura bit into one of the hors d’ouerves. The flavor was a little flat, but she was starving and hated being drunk, so she inhaled every bite on her plate and Mason’s like a goddamn lady.
“Do you want to dance, my little garbage disposal?”
“I’d love to. Turd.”
She accepted his outstretched hand. This was her Eliza Doolittle moment, an average, no frills girl having her time to hob nob with the upper crust. It was something she’d never thought she’d even get a glimpse of, let alone experience firsthand.
The band picked up the tempo, and she let Mason lead. She really had no idea what she was doing, but he made her feel light as a feather. The fabric of her gown fluttered and billowed as they circled around the dance floor. “I feel like Cinderella.”
“You should, except you won’t change back after midnight.” He dipped his head to tenderly kiss her. She closed her eyes as his lips coaxed hers apart. She held onto his hand and waist for dear life as her legs became useless beneath her.
Mason slowly ended the kiss as the music ended. Laura’s eyelids were heavy as she opened them. Mason was only a few inches from her with an emotional look on his face.
“What?” she asked. His stare was making her self-conscious.
“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I love you too.”
Just like that, Laura had the most romantic moment of her entire life, of anybody’s life, really. The glow of the candlelight, the chamber music, the fact that she was in a stunning gown made every fairy tale with a prince and a princess she had ever read come to life in that very moment.
Mason reached up to cup her face and touch his forehead to hers. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Laura. I never married in the hopes that one day you would come back to me. Now that you have, I never want to let you go.”
The flash of a camera as a paparazzo ran by and the rumble of Laura’s stomach completely shattered the mood. Both she and Mason had a good belly laugh at the awkwardness.
“We should probably go get that pizza now. Do you think anyone will mind if I show up in a couture gown?”
“Only if they won’t mind my ordering in this monkey suit. Let’s get out of here. They only really needed the donation anyway.” He planted one more quick peck on her lips and led her out of the room. Laura’s boss would be so disappointed if he found out she hadn’t stayed long or talked to anybody.
Chapter Fifteen
“Roebling’s pizza. Brooklyn, please.” Laura slid into the backseat of the car in a hurry. Her mouth watered, and she could practically taste the cheesy goodness. “Mason, come on, I’m starving.”
Mason slipped in next to her with a puzzled look on his face and handed her an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“I have no idea. It was tucked under the wiper blade and has your name on it.”
“Huh? Whatever it is can wait. I want to get going.”
“Suit yourself.”
The car pulled off and headed towards Brooklyn. “I’m going to call in the order for pickup. My feet are killing me, and I just want to be home already. Does that work for you?”
“By all means.” He started to undo his bowtie. “The sooner I can strip this thing off the better.”
“I agree. Rowr.”
Laura lowered the privacy partition. “I’m going to call in a pizza order. Would you mind running in to grab it for me when we get there? I’d rather not risk drawing attention to myself in this dress.”
“Absolutely, Miss Ross. That won’t be a problem.”
“Great. I’m going to give them my card number over the phone, so all you have to do is sign the slip.”
“Will do, Miss Ross.”
“Thank you!” She hit the button to raise the partition again and turned to Mason. “You know, I have no idea what his name is, and that makes me feel rude and like an idiot. What is it?”
Mason smiled. “I call him by his last name, Smith, but his first name is Greg.”
“Great. Thanks. I was too embarrassed to ask him in case he had told it to me at one point and I forgot.”
They rode along in silence the rest of the way. Mason rested his head in Laura’s lap so she could play with his thick, dark hair.
The mood was relaxed, as if they had been together forever, with no time lost at all. Somehow in the midst of the whirlwind, Laura had forgiven him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she was glad it had.
The driver tapped on the partition. Laura lowered the glass for him.
“We’re here, Miss Ross. What did you order so I know what I’m getting?”
“A small primavera and two cans of Coke. Thanks, Greg.”
Greg smiled and tipped his cap before running into the restaurant. He returned within five minutes with their food and handed it back through the window. “Where to now, Miss Ross?”
“Printhouse Apartments, 10th Street, Brooklyn, please.”
Greg nodded and pulled away.
“Wake up, Prince Charming. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes.” She gently shook her sleeping lap warmer.
“I’m awake.” He sniffed the air. “Oh, that pizza smells like heaven.”
The car came to a stop, and the engine died. Greg opened their door to let them out.
“Thanks, Smith. You can head home. I won’t need you tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The driver tipped his hat and headed home.
The four-story stair climb in heels was the worst idea Laura had ever had, but the elevator was closed for maintenance. By the time they reached her apartment, her knees and lower back were screaming.
“Hold this, please.” Laura handed Mason the pizza and still unopened envelope to fish her keys out of her clutch. She was so proud of that tiny black bag because it was a genuine vintage Prada she had found for next to nothing at a secondhand shop.
“Just put the food on the counter,” she called over her shoulder as the door swung in. “I’ll give you the humble tour in a min–” Something felt wrong.
The tiny industrial apartment looked the same as when she had left that afternoon, but something was off. She peered to the left towards the living room. The blinds were still closed and not a knick-knack was disturbed. The kitchen still had her dirty cereal bowl on the counter from that morning. Everything was as she had left it.
“Is everything all right? You look tense.”
Laura exhaled. She felt silly. Maybe it was because she had been spending so little time there in recent weeks that just the overall vibe was becoming unfamiliar.
“Yeah. I just need to spend more time at home. I feel like I accidentally walked into a stranger’s apartment.” She pushed the door all the way open. “Come on in and make yourself at home. I’m going to go change.”
She kicked off her heels with a sigh. Her feet and back sighed with relief as well. She knew she would have to soak in the tub later to loosen up all of the tendons in her lower half.
She st
ill felt something weird when she crossed the threshold into her bedroom, but again, nothing had been touched. So she undressed and changed into her favorite pair of sweats. They were red with the Boston Red Sox logo emblazoned on one leg. They were a gift from one of her past conquests, but they were the most comfortable pair of pants she owned, so throwing them away wasn’t an option. She slipped a white, thin-strapped tank on and went to take down her hair.
She silently thanked her stylist for managing to put her mop up with only six pins, and when she raked her fingers through to loosen the length, it fell into nearly perfect Victoria’s Secret hair. “Joss, you are an evil genius,” she whispered to her reflection. She would have to tip him big next time she saw him.
She sauntered out to the kitchen. Her stomach was not going to put up with another delay. “Go ahead and change, Mase. I may have a pair of sweatpants you can change into. Check the top drawer.” She giggled at the thought of him in any one of the girlie colors in the rainbow that was her pajama drawer.
She lifted the lid on the pizza box and breathed deep, the aroma of tomatoes and peppers intoxicating. She was about to tuck in when she noticed a second envelope on her counter. The only markings on it were the letters of her name, typed using an old typewriter.
Remembering she still had the one from the car, she slid that one out from under the pizza box and opened that one first. Another torn and ragged old book page floated out of the envelope onto the granite. Feeling curious, she opened the yellowed paper.
You left me, sweet, two legacies, –
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;
You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.
Confused, she tore into the second envelope, far less neatly than she had the first one.
KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4) Page 96