by Serena Grey
“You are mean,” she chuckles, “at least I held him off last night. Tonight, Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I’m not going over there for the salad anyway.”
I think of Brett, wondering if she’ll regret what she’s about to do, but it’s not like I’m an expert. If I were, I wouldn’t be here, my heart torn to pieces over Landon. “It depends on what you want. Just… don’t get hurt.”
She is silent. “I’m already hurt. Rach.”
That makes me want to cry, for her, for myself. “I know,” I reply.
“Oh well,” she says with a long sigh. “How are you, really?”
“Not so good.” Saying it out loud seems to remove the dam I’ve put on my feelings. “Laurie, it has to end. I can’t do it anymore. It’s just too hard. I don’t trust him, I don’t trust myself. I’m jealous, suspicious, insecure, and I hate myself for being so weak. I don’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Rach…” she sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Yeah… I’m just.” I close my eyes. “I’m so unhappy.”
There’s a short pause. “So you want to leave him… again?”
I don’t say anything.
“You can’t keep running whenever you feel things aren’t perfect, Rach.”
“I’m not running. I’m going to tell him why we aren’t working, and I’m going to make him understand that maybe it’s best that we let each other go.”
She snorts. “Will you tell him you’re in love with him?”
I’m quiet, and I hear her sigh. “You’ve never faced up to admitting, to him, or even to yourself, what you really want. What would make you less insecure, Rach? Him admitting to being in love with you too? Maybe he is. Maybe you both make it hard for yourselves. The truth is, relationships aren’t always smooth sailing. Maybe the people around you have shielded you from their conflicts so much that you think love is always kisses and sunshine, but that’s not the case. Sometimes you both have to work at it. It’s when one or both partners are uninterested in doing the work that… you know, you call it quits.” She sighs. “Tell him how you feel Rach. If you don’t, he’ll never know, and you’ll always wonder what would have happened if you did. So be honest. Find out for sure how he feels. Stop running. No matter what happens next, you can handle it.”
After our conversation, I sit outside on the balcony, watching the sun set over the horizon. Could I really just tell him? I imagine the worst case scenario, a rejection of my love, and it makes my body stiffen with dread and pain.
I can’t bear that.
I imagine walking away again. I can do that, especially if he doesn’t come after me, to break down my weary walls with the promise of passion and pleasure.
But why would he, now that Ava was back in his life?
The sun turns a brilliant orange, burning up the clouds and sky in a final burst of vivid colors before it dies for the day. Inside the suite, the hotel phone starts to ring and I leave the balcony to answer it. It’s the people from the newly opened spa, asking if I’m ready for them. They arrive soon after, and I sit silently, my mind still in turmoil as my hair, nails, and makeup get the professional treatment.
Afterward, I go back to the bedroom to lay out my dress on the bed, then put on my jewelry, a pair of deep sapphire drop earrings my parents gave me on my twenty-first birthday. The vibrant blue stones remind me now of Landon’s eyes, and there is another sharp pang of impending loss.
In the bathroom mirror, I stare at my reflection. My lips are a rich plum, my eyes rimmed with vibrant shadow and my lashes embellished with a mildly colored mascara. It’s not a look I’m used to, but it’s in line with the theme of the ball and with my dress. The hair stylist had exclaimed with delight when she saw my hairpiece, and she styled my hair in an elaborate curl over one shoulder, with the hairpiece glittering softly along the side of my head.
Making my way back to the bedroom, I’m surprised to find Landon in the dressing room, pulling on the jacket of his tuxedo. I watch him button it, not moving until he sees me in the full-length mirror in front of him. He turns around, his eyes taking me in, lingering on my face. He starts to come towards me, then he stops himself.
“You look incredible,” he says.
“Thanks,” I reply quietly. “I’ll just put on my dress and I’ll be ready.”
He follows me to the bedroom, waiting as I lift the dress from the bed and slip it on, letting the folds slide over my body. I reach for the zipper, but Landon is already there. His hands flutter over my back as he zips me up. When he steps back and I turn to face him, I watch his chest swell.
“I…” he smiles tenderly, “I’m speechless.”
The words are soft, almost like an entreaty. I blink rapidly, thinking how strange it is that suddenly everything makes me want to cry. I’m feeling raw with everything that seems so wrong with us, and yet, being here with him, it’s the only thing I really want. The one thing I want more than anything else.
And yet, I’m not happy.
“Thank you,” I smile up at him, blinking back tears. I watch uncomprehendingly as he drops to his knees. My shoes are in a box on the floor. Slowly, and with reverent care, he slips each one on my feet then rises.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” he says.
I watch him leave, admiring his beauty, desiring his love, and aching because I know that for my sanity, and for any chance I can ever have at happiness, I’ll have to let him go.
THERE is a red carpet and a backdrop at the entrance to the main lobby. I join Landon in smiling for the cameras and greeting guests, schooling my face into an expression of happiness that I don’t feel.
The red carpet leads from the lobby to the ballroom, where the doors are thrown open to reveal the fantastical décor inside. Soft lights shimmer down from the ceiling, creating the effect of a moonlit night, flowers adorn the tables, and servers dressed as sprites and fairies drift around with trays. From somewhere, I hear the sound of running water blending seamlessly with the beautiful music coming from the orchestra.
“It’s very beautiful,” I whisper to Landon, awed beyond anything I expected to feel.
He squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”
The guests are mostly distinguished people from all over the country. I recognize the famous faces, politicians, actors, musicians, tech billionaires, a posse of glamorous models… there are even a few people from Gilt. Everyone wants to talk to Landon, to congratulate him, and to ask questions. He keeps me by his side while he does what he does in public. He greets and engages his guests, his smile, his voice and mannerisms communicating his faultless manners, and yet also, setting him apart from the people around him. It gives me a feeling, like I’m the only one in the crowd who has access to the enigmatic man inside the suit.
“Took you long enough to get here.” The words are warm and affectionate, a departure from the way he’s been all night. I look in the direction he’s facing and see Aidan grinning widely. His tuxedo looks almost as good on him as Landon’s, and he wears it with an air of charming insouciance. He approaches us and pumps his brother’s hand. “God! It is lovely,” he exclaims, looking around. “You did it again. I’m sorry I’m late.”
Landon is smiling. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Last minute issues with the play,” Aidan replies, before turning to me. “Didn’t hurt that he had a plane waiting for me,” he says, hugging me lightly and dropping a kiss on my cheek. “It’s good to see you, Rachel.”
“Same here,” I reply, really happy to see him. “You look good.”
“Ha!” he laughs. “Desperate damage control before leaving the plane. You should have seen me escaping New York and those horrible rehearsals. I looked like a fugitive.”
We both laugh, and when I turn towards Landon and my eyes meet his, he has a thoughtful expression on his face. I incline my head, curious, but just then, someone approaches him and he turns away to give them his attention.
Aidan continues to entertain me with
anecdotes from the theater. When I ask him about Elizabeth Mckay, the beautiful young star of his play, his face clouds, and he changes the subject. Again, I start to wonder if there is more to his seeming dislike for that particular girl.
Another person approaches us just as the man conversing with Landon walks away. The new arrival is a woman, none other than Ava Sinclair. I’d spotted her earlier, across the room, standing out like a swan among the other socialites. She looks ravishing in a stunning black gown, her hair in an elaborate hairdo set with jeweled pins, and her lips, a dark striking red.
She takes Landon’s hand and smiles up at him before leaning forward to whisper something in his ear. There’s a white flash as one of the press people takes advantage of the moment to take a picture. Why wouldn’t they? I think unhappily, as a couple they look incredible.
“Ava Sinclair,” Aidan’s voice is a mocking drawl, sounding more mature than his years, “I never thought I’d see this face again.”
She looks at him, a hint of dislike in her eyes, then she smiles. “It’s been ages, hasn’t it?” She smiles at me and wiggles the fingers of one perfectly manicured hand. “Howdy you do, Rachel?”
I smile back. “Wonderful, thank you,” I pause, then add politely, “You look great.”
Her brows go up. “Well, so do you.”
I smile inwardly. I have no intention of allowing her supercilious attitude get to me. If there’s really anything going on between her and Landon, then I won’t stand in their way. I won’t fight for something, or someone who I don’t even know for sure belongs to me. “I was just thinking that it’s such an enchanting event you all put together.”
She smiles sweetly. “Were you? We did have a great time arranging it all,” she gives Landon a sly smile before gliding off, her whole bearing elegant and almost regal. I stare after her, wondering how bad it would look if I abandoned my decision to ignore her cattiness and dump my glass of champagne in her hair.
As if he can guess what I’m thinking, I feel Landon’s fingers curve around my waist. “They should announce dinner any minute,” he says.
Aidan nods. “And then after the boring speeches, some dancing.” He looks at me. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do.”
Pushing Landon and Ava out of my mind, I give Aidan a grin. “Game on.”
They announce dinner soon after. We are all at the same table. Landon, me, Aidan, some members of the board of the Shelter Project and their partners and dates. Ava is with us also, but she’s alone.
She’s seated on Landon’s other side, like a constant reminder that she is one of the big unanswered questions in our relationship. I try not to bristle as she engages his attention again and again. Instead I concentrate on Aidan, listening to his jokes, and joining him in conversation with some of the others on the table.
After dinner, Landon goes up to give a short speech about the Gold Dust, the history and the refurbishment, and his decision to work with the Shelter Project. He mentions some of their successes around the country, and how he hopes the gala would raise enough to make a real difference. There will be an auction, he announces, naming some of the exclusive items he and other sponsors of the Shelter Project have donated. He is in turn serious, then smiling, his voice low, almost sensual, with an appealing cadence that makes it impossible not to listen to him.
I watch him with rapt attention, unable to look away. I want to tell myself that he’s mine. I want to believe it. I want it to be true with every single fiber of my being.
“He’s wonderful isn’t he?” Ava leans over Landon’s seat towards me, her voice a low murmur only I can hear.
I contemplate her face for a short moment. “You already know that,” I reply.
She chuckles, then looks over at Landon. “How do you women bear it? Holding on to him, even when you know that at best it’s only for a little while, and soon you’ll have to let him go.”
I look her squarely in the eyes. “How did you bear it?”
Her smile widens. It’s a self-satisfied, almost catlike smile. “Oh, it was never like that with us. He was so in love with me. I suspect he still is. No matter how many times I walked away from him, he always came for me. I believe I broke his heart when I eloped for my first marriage, but the reunion after my divorce…” She chuckles. “It was worth it. It’s been worth it every time to come back to find him still waiting.”
Still waiting. It made sense. Maybe I had been wrong to imagine that he didn’t commit to the women before me because of some aversion to love, because of the scars from his childhood. Maybe he’d simply been waiting for the woman he really loved.
My eyes go to Landon on the stage. He’s still talking, but his eyes are on me. My heart tightens, with desire, hopelessness, love… I swallow. “Good for you,” I tell Ava, my voice slightly shaky. The room erupts into applause as Landon finishes his speech and hands the podium over to one of the board members of the charity.
There are more speeches, then the auction. A musician has donated a private concert, someone else a cask of rare wine. Landon’s donation is a special edition chronograph which goes for more than a million dollars.
When the auctions are over, the music kicks up a notch, and Aidan takes my hand. “Still up for the challenge?” he asks.
“Of course.” I follow him away from the tables. A pop singer is doing a rendition of one of her hits over the sound of the orchestra, and on the dance floor guests are already moving to the music. I follow Aidan’s lead, responding to his catchy exuberance and letting go of my inhibitions.
“Wow,” he says after three songs. “You could dance circles around some professionals on Broadway.”
“Oh, you flatter me sir,” I reply theatrically. We both laugh. My laughter is cut short when I look back towards the tables and I see Landon and Ava, still seated. They’re leaning towards each other, talking.
Aidan follows the direction of my gaze. “She’s trying really hard,” he snorts.
I don’t reply. To me, it looks as if she really isn’t trying so hard. He’s there with her, after all. I grab a flute of champagne from a passing server and down large gulp.
“Another dance?” I ask Aidan, my voice bright.
“Anything you want.”
Landon cuts in a few minutes into our dance, just as the singer starts a slow, soulful rendition of one of her hits. Aidan hands me over to his brother with a cheerful nod and disappears into the party.
Landon’s hands encircle my waist, and I place my hands on his shoulders, trying and failing to make myself immune to his raw sensuality. We’re barely moving, just swaying gently to the mellow music.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks.
I shrug. “Aidan has been excellent company.”
It’s a dig, and he recognizes it. His lips lift in a small smile. “I’m glad you two like each other.”
“What’s not to like? You know I think he’s great.”
He nods, and I look away from his face, ignoring the temptation to lean into him and place my head on his chest. To feel his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heart, to close my eyes and immerse myself in him alone.
I hear him breathe and feel his chest expand. “Rachel,” he starts. “What happened earlier in the suite…”
I close my eyes, remembering our fight. The things he’d said, the things I’d said… and then I remember Ava, and that maddening, confident smile. “Not now, Landon.”
“No… I,” He stops. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Your being here means a lot to me, Rachel. I hate the idea that I hurt you. I don’t… I’m sorry for not trusting you about Jack.”
“You already said that,” I reply without looking at him.
He sighs, and his fingers move lightly on my waist. A small shudder rocks through me at the slight touch, and I swallow. “I want us to work,” he says. “I want…”
“Landon,” I interrupt. His words are only breaking my heart because I’ve already decided what I’m going to
do. I decided long before we came down for the party, and watching him with Ava only strengthened my resolve. “We don’t work,” I say gently. “We just don’t work.”
I feel his body freeze. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” My voice is soft. “I don’t think so, Landon.” I can’t bear the pain, my heart screams silently. I can’t bear loving you like this. When it comes to him, I’m always going to be insecure. I’m always going to be dreading the moment when he’ll walk away from me.
“Don’t do this again.” There is a plea in his voice, a desperation in his touch. “For God’s sake don’t do this again.”
“Why not? What does it even mean to you that I stay? It’s just sex, Landon, apart from that, we have nothing.”
His jaw moves. “We talked about this, and you said you wouldn’t walk away.”
I close my eyes. Somewhere inside, I’d hoped that he would tell me that I was wrong, that what we had was more than sex, and that he felt something for me. Blinking back tears, I look up into his face, “I’m not walking away. I’m trying to make you see that we don’t have a chance.” Not when I’m desperately in love with you, and you don’t feel the same. I sigh. “You don’t trust me. I don’t trust you. We don’t have anything to build a relationship on. Maybe it’s best if we both walk away.”
His eyes close. When he speaks again, his voice is bitter. “Tony will arrange for your transport. You can go anytime you want.
My hands drop from his shoulders. “Landon...”
“No,” he interrupts. His hands come up to cup my face, ‘Whatever it is you’re looking for Rachel, I fucking hope you find it.”
He walks away, leaving me feeling as if my heart has been ripped out. I watch his retreating back, almost unable to breathe. I see someone approach him, I watch them start to talk. He laughs at something the person says, and that, to me, is like a blow. It’s as if he has already relegated me to his past.
Someone approaches me with a smiling friendly face, wanting to dance. I realize I’m still standing on the dancefloor. I shake my head and walk woodenly to the edge of the room.