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I didn't respond, both because his words weren't nearly enough and because I had no idea what to say. What good would telling him I missed him too do? I couldn't just start texting him like I wasn't still in pain, like his words were enough to soothe the hurt from what he'd said. That one text felt like it burned a hole into my phone though, making it the first thing I thought of each time I picked it up.
I can't afford to think about either of them, or the fact that they are bound to be here tonight, right now. I need to focus on everything this night means to me and everything I need to go smoothly.
"All right," Heather says, coming beside me. "Ten minutes until the doors open. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be. The band and auction?"
"Good to go."
She holds her hand out and I take the earpiece from the center of it, putting it in my ear so we can communicate throughout the event. I'm not at all surprised to see Sophie and Law are the first people to arrive. I give a grand flourish and a bow of my head as they reach me.
"Welcome to The Johnson Memorial Hospital Charity Fundraising Gala," I say.
Sophie chuckles. "It's beautiful, Lexa. You did a great job, like I knew you would."
"Thank you."
Law nods while looking around the room. "This is the first time this event didn't look so...stuffy. I'm sure the board will agree we made the right choice."
I smile. "I'm glad to hear it. All right, so I need you guys to do a bunch of bidding to get it started and I expect to see you both on the dance floor at some point."
"Yes, ma'am." Sophie gives a stern nod.
They pass me, the escort already beside them to lead them to their seats, and I greet the next group of guests being shown in. Around fifteen minutes after the event begins is when people really start arriving. It's not long before the first issue arises, though. Someone bringing three guests when anyone who was invited as a single person is only allowed to bring one. Heather takes my place so I can go to the entryway and handle it.
"I spend more than enough money to bring however many guests I please," a man seethes.
"Hi. I'm Lexa, the event planner," I introduce myself as I reach them. "Is there an issue here?"
"Yes, there is," the man says, turning to face me, eyes going up and down my body like he's surmising how much I'm worth."I have come to this event every year, at which, I spend quite generously, and now, this year, I'm being told that the guests I've brought with me will not be permitted to attend."
"The invitation allowed for you to bring one guest, not three." I point out. "We would be happy to admit one of your guests to attend, but the other two will have to leave."
"I'm sure the charity can more than afford two extra plates." He gives a haughty laugh.
The lines are split in two, the one to the left of me moving smoothly, while this man holds up all the people waiting behind him.
"Could we move this over here, please?" I ask.
"There's no need. I arrived with three guests, and they will be admitted with me. That's really all there is to it."
He arches a brow, as if his word is law and I need to just recognize that.
"Sir, I'm sure this is not your first gala, because, as you say, you come every year, so I'm also sure you know every seat is accounted for tonight. And, as I've said, we can admit one of your guests, but that will be all. Now, if we could please step to the side to allow the other guests to—"
"I don't care about the other guests," he hisses.
I take a deep breath to keep from saying words that have no place at a gala. More like a back alley somewhere. It's as I'm pasting a smile on that I feel it. Them. Jeremiah and Ezekiel. I don't even have to look away from the snarling man to know they're nearby. I can feel their eyes on me. And then, a voice I miss so much, is right in front of me.
"I believe the lady asked you to step aside," Ezekiel says, but there's a menacing tone in his voice.
I like it far too much. So much that I have to suppress a shudder at the sound of it. My eyes move just to the left to find him there, all black suit on, looking at the man like he wants to rip his head off. The man looks at him just the same, even though he cranes his head to meet Ezekiel's eyes.
"And just who do you think you are?" the man scoffs.
"The man who's going to move you if you don't do it on your own."
The man's swallow is audible, and I realize it's because everyone around us has gone silent.
