Stepping Stone

by Dakota Willink

  “Come in,” I barked, annoyed by the interruption. Krystina was due to arrive here soon and I wanted to finish business for the week. I was going on a seven-day stretch and was looking forward to taking a day or two off. The image of Krystina bound and naked had been like a carrot dangling in front of my face all day.

  “Mr. Stone,” said Hale as he stepped into the office.

  “Oh, Hale. Good. I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to speak with you before tonight. Laura,” I said, turning back to my assistant. “Unless there is anything more pressing that you can think of, I think we can wrap things up.”

  “No, sir. I’m set,” she affirmed.

  After Laura left, I motioned for Hale to have a seat across from me.

  “Are we all set for tonight?” I asked him.

  “Yes, sir. Justine would like you to be dropped off at the main doors. I didn’t give her an affirmative answer to that. I thought that it was safe to assume that you would want to survey the press presence first. There is a back door if needed.”

  “Good call on that. Krystina has reservations about the media. An alternate entrance just may be needed,” I contemplated. “What about the Bugatti?”

  “I’ve already been to the storage garage and have had the car prepared as you requested.”

  I laughed.

  “You’ve had a busy day over at the garage site, haven’t you?”

  “Just a bit,” Hale said and afforded me a rare smile.

  “Tell me about your conversation with Krystina earlier. Was she mad about the Porsche?”

  “She didn’t seem upset, but she was hard to read. We didn’t talk for that long,” he admitted and furrowed his brow. I sat back in my chair and listened while Hale gave a brief recap about Krystina’s refusal to take the Porsche.

  “I figured she would be resistant, but I thought she’d be more apt to take it from you over me. I’ll handle it from here,” I told him. “How are we on security for later?”

  “Security is in place. I spoke to Justine and she shared a few additional concerns that I’ve made accommodations for. I’ll be there to keep an eye on things all night. If Charlie makes an appearance, we’ll be all over it.”

  “I don’t think he’ll come around,” I dismissed.

  “Well, if he does, we’ll be ready to toss him back out to the street,” Hale assured. “Did you get my email on Trevor Hamilton?”

  “I did, but I haven’t had the chance to look it over yet. Did you find anything on him?”

  “Quite a bit, sir. In fact, it’s quite disturbing. That’s why I asked if you received it. I have a hard time picturing someone like Miss Cole being with a man like him.”

  I pressed my lips together and frowned. No matter what Hale found in Hamilton’s background, I didn’t like picturing her with any man other than myself.

  My phone buzzed and I glanced down at the screen. It was from Krystina and instantly my mood lightened.

  3:07 PM, Krystina: Mr. Roberts kept me longer than I planned. On my way up now.

  Hamilton could take a flying leap. She was mine now.

  3:08 PM, Me: See you in a few.

  On impulse, I added the same kissy-faced emoticon that she sent to me earlier. I smiled, thinking about how she had the ability to bring out an uncharacteristically playful side in me.

  I looked back to Hale. He wore a peculiar expression on his face and I quickly wiped the soppy grin off my face.

  “That was Krystina,” I told him seriously. “She’s on her way up. We plan to get ready for the gala at the penthouse. You can pick us up there at six o’clock.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, but he was eyeing me with a knowing look.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.”

  I narrowed my gaze, fully aware of what he was thinking.

  Yes, Hale. I’m completely smitten by an angel.

  I honestly didn’t care what he thought. In fact, I didn’t really care what anyone thought. I was in love with a woman, even if she didn’t know it yet. If people wanted to judge me for that, so be it.

  CHAPTER 22

  As we neared the hotel that would be hosting the charity gala, I was already feeling like a princess. It was hard to believe that I was arriving in a 1931 Bugatti. Between that and our vintage attire, I would bet that even members of the British Royal Family would experience a twinge of envy. I was starting to learn very quickly that Alexander never did anything small.

  When we pulled up, I glanced out the window. A sea of news reporters were there at the ready. All of my excitement instantly vanished.

  “Alex,” I said warily as I took in the crowd that lined a Hollywood style red carpet. “Are those all reporters?”

  “Most likely. There was a lot of hype surrounding this event,” he said with a frown. “But I will admit, I didn’t expect to see so many.”

  “Shall I pull around back, Mr. Stone?” Hale asked from the front seat.

  “The publicity will be good. I shouldn’t avoid them,” Alexander mused before turning to me. “Krystina, I’ll need their coverage to capture the interest of future donors if tonight’s silent auction doesn’t pull in as much as we hope it will.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. I can handle it.”

  I hope.

  “Hale, we’ll just get out here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hale replied.

  Hale got out of the car and walked around to open the door for us. Alexander climbed out first then turned around to take my hand. The minute I stepped out of the vehicle, the press pounced.

  “Mr. Stone, can you comment on Stone Arena?”

  “What are your community outreach plans for the women’s shelter?”

  “Mr. Stone, when are you going to begin work on the Rushmore building?”

  Question after question was fired at him, but he didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he just smiled as we walked up the red carpet hand in hand. Hale trailed very closely behind, keeping a watchful eye on the scene.

  Holy crap. This is absolutely nuts!

  Cameras flashed. The entire thing felt surreal. I literally felt like a celebrity.

  “Mr. Stone, some have been calling you a venture capitalist,” a reporter called out. “What’s your position on that?”

  Alexander paused at the question and turned to face the reporter. He was a tall and thin man, looking to be in his mid-forties. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he held out a microphone in anticipation of what Alexander might say.

  “My business has always been real estate. It always will be.” More questions came flying, and Alexander held up his hand to silence them. “I cannot discuss the details about Stone Arena at this time. But rest assured. As soon as I can, a press conference will be scheduled.”

  “Mr. Stone, can you tell us the name of your date for this evening?” said a woman from behind the man with the glasses. Alexander paused and seemed to be contemplating his words before he spoke.

  “This is Krystina Cole. My girlfriend,” he added.

  I almost started choking as the press buzzed to life once more.

  “Who designed her dress?” shouted someone from the crowd.

  “Her dress was purchased at 25th Street Vintage, from a lovely woman named Dejah. Now, if you’ll excuse us. Stone’s Hope Gala awaits us,” he said before turning back to me and lowering his voice so that only I could hear. “Let’s go, angel.”

  “I thought you said that boyfriend and girlfriend sounded childish,” I whispered once we were out of earshot from the press.

  “I did.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “I don’t know to be honest. Would you have preferred something different?”

  I smiled to myself.

  Not at all.

  “Oh, I could get used to it I suppose,” I said nonchalantly.

  “Maybe I should have stuck with arm candy,” he mused. However, he couldn’t keep the smile from showing through in his voice. I looked up
at him as we walked through the entry doors that Hale held open for us. Alexander’s eyes twinkled bright with amusement.

  “The day you refer to me as your arm candy is the day I start calling you cupcake,” I joked.

  He laughed, the sound echoing through the lobby of the hotel.

  “You really are something, Miss Cole. It’s occurred to me that I might actually enjoy myself tonight.” He stopped walking as we came upon a set of great double doors. He bent at the waist and made an exaggerated swooping motion with his arm. “My lady, I am honored to have you here as my date.”

  Looping his arm in mine, we walked through the doors of the ballroom. When we entered, I was completely awestruck.

  “Oh, wow!”

  Deep red and black satin swooped down from the ceiling, with an ornate crystal chandelier as the centerpiece. The same deep red covered the tables, accented with black and white dinnerware. Roses set in gemstone colored vases adorned each table.

  Framed replicas of Toulouse-Lautrec posters covered the walls, adding to the authenticity of the setting. There was a massive stage at the far end of the room, with a backdrop of red velvet curtains lined with gold sequins. A band of musicians wearing top hats and three-piece suits with striped vests was already playing. Their lead singer was a woman decked out in swanky black dress and long strands of pearls. They swayed around her neck as she sang a cover of “Alone” by Patricia Kaas.

  “It looks like my sister has out done herself,” Alexander commented.

  “You can say that again! This place looks amazing! Actually, glamorous would be a better word for it. I feel like I’ve just walked into a turn of the century movie.”

  People mingled about wearing elaborate attire. The women wore everything from the sleek and sexy dresses of a courtesan, to the more revealing burlesque fashions of the time. The men were in costume as well, their style similar to Alexander’s striped tuxedo and top hat. Any reservations that I may have had about my costume vanished. I was dressed perfectly for the occasion.

  “Alex!” called a female voice. I turned and saw Justine coming towards us. She looked striking in a long gown of deep purple, the coloring complimenting her jet-black hair that was twisted into a stylish knot with pin curls on top of her head.

  “Justine, you look lovely,” Alexander complimented and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “You remember Krystina, right?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said and turned to me. “I just love your dress! How was Dejah? She didn’t talk your ear off, did she?”

  “She was fine,” I said and laughed. “Alex was sure to keep her in line.”

  “I bet he did!”

  “Alright, alright. No tag teaming allowed tonight,” Alex joked. “Krystina, let’s head over to our table and leave Justine to do whatever it is she needs to do.”

  “Actually, I need you to come with me,” Justine interjected. She made a quick glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Mrs. Van Rensselaer is already here. I could use your help with persuading her to open her checkbook. You know how she is. I need you to work your magic on her.”

  Alexander looked to me.

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “Go on ahead. I can find our table without you.”

  “Are you sure?” He looked doubtful, ignoring Justine as she tugged on his arm.

  “I’ll be fine, Alex. Go work your magic on Mrs. Van Rensselaer,” I teased with a wink.

  “I won’t be long.”

  After Alexander and Justine walked away, I headed over to the table that held our seating place cards. I located our table assignment easily enough, as we were seated at the head table near the stage. When I sat down, I fought the urge to kick off my shoes. They had been on my feet for barely an hour, but I was already feeling the pinch in my toes. I was regretting my choice to give in to Dejah’s insistence over the Edwardian era shoe.

  “Justine said that you didn’t look his type,” said a female voice from behind me.

  I turned to see who was speaking. A slender red headed woman in a royal blue dress leaned against the table behind me. She was drinking from a champagne flute. I recognized her immediately as the woman that Justine was with at The Mandarin Day Spa. She was also the woman whose face appeared in news articles, photographed next to Alexander, on numerous occasions.

  Suzanne Jacobs.

  Since we had never been formally introduced, I played the innocent card.

  “Hello. I’m Krystina Cole,” I said and stood to offer my hand to her.

  She glanced down at my hand, but didn’t accept the handshake. Instead, she polished off what little amount was left in her champagne glass and signaled a waiter for another.

  “You’re a little young for Alex,” she drawled. She peered at me through glassy eyes. It was then that I realized that she was well on her way to being drunk.

  Already? The night has barely gotten started.

  “I’m sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told her.

  The situation had disaster written all over it. I turned my back to her and reclaimed my seat. I was not about to have a confrontation with a drunken woman that I had never met before. But, much to my dismay, she pulled out the chair next to me.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Suzanne. Suzanne Jacobs.”

  I know that already, you nitwit.

  I smiled sweetly at her.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I stated, trying to be polite as possible.

  “Look at you, sitting there all sweet and innocent,” she said. Her voice dripped with contempt. “Have you ever been to an event like this?”

  “Um, no. I haven’t.”

  “Honey, you have no idea what you’re in for. Trust me. I know. In fact, I know a lot of things about these sorts of affairs. Just like I know a lot about Alex,” she snorted in the most unbecoming way. “And I know that he will break your pretty little heart.”

  She leaned forward and poked me relatively hard in the chest. I sat back, startled by this woman’s aggressive behavior. It was not the time, nor the place. I looked around for Alexander and spotted him on the other side of the room engaged in conversation with someone.

  I tried to remember the names of the people that were assigned to sit at the same table as Alexander and me. Justine had a place card, as well as Alexander’s accountant and lawyer, Bryan and Stephen. There were also other names that I did not recognize, but I would have remembered reading the name Suzanne Jacobs. She was definitely in the wrong place.

  “You might want to go find out what table you were assigned to. I don’t recall seeing your name listed for this one,” I told her, hoping that she would take the hint.

  “Trying to get rid of me already? Oh, no honey. I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “No you’re not. This conversation is over,” I told her and stood up. If she wasn’t going to leave the table, then I would.

  She grabbed hold of my wrist, her grip remarkably strong considering how boney and frail her hand looked.

  “Don’t be fooled by him,” she warned me. I ripped my hand out of her grasp.

  “It’s you who are the fool,” I said, careful to keep my voice quiet and even. The last thing that Alexander needed was a scene on such an important night. “Don’t pretend to think you know everything about him. I know him. Alexander Stone is a good man.”

  “Stone? You really are naïve,” she laughed loudly at some private joke. “You obviously don’t know as much as you think.”

  I looked up when I saw someone approaching out of the corner of my eye. Justine was making a beeline towards us.

  Oh, thank god.

  “Suzy!” she hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, relax!” Suzanne waved off.

  Justine looked more closely at her friend.

  “Shit. You’re drunk,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you! You, of all people, know how much work that I put into tonight. I told you that Alex was bringing someone and you promised that you wouldn�
�t do anything stupid! And here I was worried about Charlie ruining everything!”

  Who is Charlie?

  I looked back and forth between the two women, not sure what to make of the situation, when Alexander came strolling up.

  “Suzanne,” he said with a nod. His greeting was pleasant enough, but I knew otherwise from the strained tick in his jaw. It was his telltale sign that he was angry.

  “Alex, call Hale immediately,” Justine ordered. “Suzanne needs to be taken home. Now.”

  Alexander looked over to the left. I followed his gaze and saw Hale standing against a wall nearby. The two men nodded to one another, before Hale came over to the table.

  Hale didn’t say a word, but simply took Suzanne by the arm and steered her towards the main doors. She, of course, did not want to go willingly and protested the entire way. A few guests glanced in their direction, but for the most part, their exit was made quickly and quietly.

  “I’m very sorry about that, Krystina,” Justine apologized. “Suzanne is…bitter. Let’s just say there’s something to be said about a scorned woman.”

  “Don’t make excuses for her, Justine,” Alexander quipped. “She’s a grown woman. She should know how to behave.”

  “Alex, I tried to warn –.”

  The loud static from a microphone being adjusted interrupted whatever it was Justine was going to say. The female lead singer from the band had left the stage and was now behind the podium. In all the commotion with Suzanne, I hadn’t even realized that the music stopped.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats,” she announced. “Dinner will be served momentarily. In the meantime, I’d like to welcome up to the stage the man who has made all of this possible. He is the Chief Executive Officer of Stone Enterprise and the founder of The Stoneworks Foundation. Without him, none of us would be here tonight. So, without further ado, please put your hands together for Mr. Alexander Stone.”

  CHAPTER 23

  We had the attention of the entire ballroom. I smiled and gave a brief wave before turning to Krystina.