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“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.
