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For me, once was now my reality.
I should have been happy. I should have that bubble of warm joy steadily expanding in my chest, a matching smile spreading on my face, as I walked towards him. Him with his hand outstretched towards me, nothing but love and devotion on his face.
I wasn’t unhappy, but I was bored. This wasn’t for us. It was for them. It was, for lack of a better word, protocol. But four years of following it had made us experts. With practise, we’d become perfect. A routine – a relationship – born of necessity and the lingering love between childhood friends.
As I descended the stairs slowly, my hand on the railing, my skirts flouncing lightly around my legs, it was a scene quite literally out of a movie. The chandelier hung high above us. People milled about in their finery, drinks in hand, watching me descend. Waiting staff bobbed about with silver trays of tiny delicacies. And waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs…
Waiting for me was a prince.
A king.
A god.
Apollo Callahan was all that and more.
As I looked up at him, he winked at me and my smile felt more real, more natural.
His tall frame was wrapped in the most expensive, perfectly tailored tuxedo. A Jacquard jacket with silk lapels. Slim black pants. White pleated shirt. Black silk bow tie. He had become the dream of most every girl at Saint Benedict’s College. With his dark blond hair swept up from his face. It wasn’t the charming smile nestled in his dashing features that got me. It was the cheeky twinkle in his deep sapphire eyes.
I reached the bottom of the grand sweeping staircase and took Apollo’s hand. He drew me the last few steps. It wasn’t so hurried that it was unseemly, but enough that it was obvious he needed me in his arms.
When my foot hit the floor, his hand went to the small of my back and he leant in to kiss my cheek. The people gathered clapped politely and there was a general murmur of approval making its way around the room.
“Phase one complete,” he whispered in my ear. “How many more hours to go?”
“Too many,” I answered as I looked around at the pearl-draped women with their dainty wine glasses. “Can’t we just go and eat ice cream until we bust?”
I felt him smiling. “I suppose you want rainbow?” he teased.
“Don’t ice cream shame me, Apollo Callahan.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Harlow Vanguard,” he chuckled. “You ready?”
I nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You look stunning, by the way.”
I smiled at him as I looked into his eyes. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He chuckled, his body leaning into mine instinctively. “I’m overheating. You’re lucky you get naked shoulders and a breeze around your legs.”
I laughed, my hand going to his chest. “We could swap, if you like?”
His nose nudged my jaw just under my ear. “I wouldn’t want to miss seeing you in it.”
“Apollo. Harlow,” came the deep, warm tones of a familiar voice.
Apollo took his nose out of my hair and smiled at his father. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought you’d be later.”
Archer Callahan looked around as though surveying his kingdom and my eyes followed his. His guests were refined and polished but, in the shadows and halls, lurked the truth; all of them carrying at least one holster or knife somewhere it was as easily hidden as it was ‘accidentally’ flashed.
“It took less time than expected,” Archer admitted. “Neo Kincaid leant his not inconsiderable help to the cause.” He finished up quickly – as though the faster he talked, the less I’d understand – and turned his smile on me. A smile thatdidreach his eyes. “Harlow, you look wonderful, as always.”
He took my hand and I let him kiss it.
“Thank you, Archer. You and Frenella have outdone yourselves”
I felt Apollo’s hand grip my back tighter at the shared in-joke.
