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Gabriel’s voice is testy. “Why not? I know Sebastian would love to see you.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Yeah. But so what? You’ve gone to all this work. You should just stay and enjoy the fruits of your labors.”
“I have to come back here that night. We’ve got rehearsals for Twelfth Night.”
Gabriel’s quiet for a while. “Well, I appreciate all you’ve done for this, from the concept to the execution. It’s been great. And I know Sebastian will love it.”
“Will he? I don’t know. He doesn’t love parties.” But that’s okay. It’s not about him. It’s about me helping him thank those in his business life who’ve helped him this year. A year that I’m still hoping, probably irresponsibly so, turns out with his company making the Deca Arete list.
“He can tolerate social events for a couple of hours,” Gabriel says, his voice saucy.
We end the call and I’m back to pouring over my lists of all things “An Afternoon of Thanksgiving” for the hundredth time. I didn’t have the advantage of The Calendar to organize everything with, but I did it my own way: a digital white board filled with virtual sticky notes that I can maneuver wherever I want.
I spend most of my spare time working on grant proposals for both Longdale’s community theater and the Capistrano Players. With Gabriel’s help, we’ve gotten some good responses back.
Just one more week until I’m back in Longdale, a place that’s been in my head a crazy amount ever since I left.
But it’s not the place that’s infiltrated my mind, exactly. It’s the man that brought me there in the first place.
I peer around the corner of the event room on the first floor of the Longdale resort, adjust the wide strap of my black velvet dress, pressing my shell-pink lips together. At least I hope they’re still shell pink. I reapplied my lipstick—a ‘90s classic—only ten minutes ago, but with the number of nerves I have, I might have chewed it all off by now.
Guests are filtering in through the double doors for “An Afternoon of Thanksgiving,” managers from each of the nine other fully-operational and original properties as well as those responsible for the acquisitions. Also in attendance is the couple representing the local theater troop, as well as the people from Home Away from Home who were here before.
Alec and Oliver appear at my elbow. “Well done,” Oliver says, his eyes aglow. “Why don’t you join us?”
“I’m okay here. I’m just making sure the caterers come back with all the salads. There was a mix up on the order, but they’re fixing it right now.”
“Why don’t you just step inside and say hello to a few people, and then you can come back and check on that?” Alec offers. “Or better yet, I can stay here and communicate with the caterers while you’re in there. I can text you if there are any problems.” He makes a shooing motion towards the door. “Go on. Mingle. Enjoy.”
“Really. It’s okay. I’m good right here. I just want to make sure the salads are ready, and then I’ll be going. I need to catch my flight.”
Oliver sighs and shakes his head. “I really wish you could stay for the event.” There’s a tension behind his eyes, like there’s something he’s not telling me.
“If you want to reschedule your flight for tomorrow and stay, that would be great. I mean, since you’re here on company business, we could pay for the cost to change your ticket,” Alec adds.
I bump out a laugh. “You guys are so sweet. And under normal circumstances, I would. But I’m expected at our day-long rehearsal tomorrow. It’s right before everyone’s off for the Thanksgiving holiday, so we’ve got a lot to cover.”
Both brothers look solemn as they leave me to greet the guests. I’m soon bombarded by Sophie and Oakley, as well. They try their hand at the same thing.
“This dress is unreal!” Oakley fluffs my one ivory-colored statement sleeve. “Girl, you look hot.”
“You better stop hiding back here and go say hi to Sebastian,” Sophie says. “I know you want to.”
I do want to. But this event isn’t about me or our past relationship. Besides, it still stings that we broke off all contact so swiftly. It was out of sight, out of mind for Sebastian once I got back to California. I must not have meant much to him.
I did ask him not to contact me. That I would contact him when I was ready.
I still haven’t.
Ah, there’s the rub.
I give them each hugs. “I’ve got a flight to catch,” I say, once I’ve tripled checked with the kitchen staff who assures me that there are indeed now the correct number of salads. “Thanks for all your help with everything.”
“If you weren’t planning on at least saying hello, why did you wear this killer dress?”
I smooth my hand down the front of me, reveling in the feel of the form-fitting black velvet. I click my tongue. “I can wear a nice dress and have it be for myself and not for a man.”
