CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 27
"You look stunning," Heather compliments me as I walk into the store.

I chuckle, caressing my strapless, plum-colored, floor-length dress. It's more a sign of my nerves than thinking anything's wrong with my dress. I made sure there was nothing. Everything is perfect. Every strand of hair pinned back with a black barrette at the nape of my neck. The dress, cinched at my waist, flowing from there. Black heels comfortable enough to stand in all night. A black bracelet and a teardrop necklace that fits just above my breasts. Everything, perfect. I just need tonight to be exactly the same.

"You look beautiful too," I say as I reach her.

She does a little twirl in her knee-length burgundy dress.

"I hope that means the nerves aren't too noticeable then," he jokes.

—I'm literally afraid I'll sweat until my dress is soaked before the guests arrive.

—Why? You paid so much attention to everything. It's perfect.—

—The first thing I learned in school is that if something can go wrong, it will.

Her eyes widen in alarm. "What a terrifying thought."

—Exactly, then let's get to work before the guests start arriving.

She nods, and we turn to walk together through the room that will receive the guests. The entrance to the enormous main hall where the event will be held is covered with a white carpet, with gold planters lining the path with floral arrangements. The two women who will serve the guests are already waiting in the black and white uniforms that all the staff will wear tonight. Tablets with the guest lists and the seats to which an usher will escort them are on the table next to each one, on either side of the carpet. I nod my thanks and smile as I pass. Then, I see the fully set-up hall for the first time. It's impressive.

—I told you it was perfect.—

It certainly seems that way. At the front of the room is the enormous black stage, where I see the band, the one Heather selected, getting ready. We greet each other, and then I look to the left of the room, where the white bar, set with gold teardrop crystals, sits against the wall, behind the bartenders setting up the venue. I breathe a little easier, at least knowing those two things are okay. To the right of the room, tables are set up for the silent auction. White tablecloths with gold frames draped over them. Each frame contains a different service up for auction. I force myself to ignore that one of the items up for auction is a year of personal training at Jeremiah and Ezekiel's local gym. In front of each frame is a white tablet so people can bid until time runs out.

"Well, now we'll focus on the most important part," I say, focusing on the tables and seats.

Twenty circular tables, each with six seats. White tablecloths with a gold lace tablecloth covered each one. The centerpieces were tall, rectangular gold-plated glass vases with white roses inside. Surrounding them were smaller roses in solid gold vases three inches tall. Gold-rimmed champagne flutes, small gold plates with larger white plates underneath, and gold forks and spoons lined up beside them in neat rows. The white ceiling has gold squares, which made it easier for me to choose the color palette, and crystal chandeliers hang from each square, illuminating the room with beautiful light.

I let out a deep sigh. “Well, it doesn’t sound like it was thrown together by a rookie.”

Heather chuckles, bumping her hip against mine. “It looks amazing.”

—Let me go talk to Jackson. Make sure the band has everything they need.

—On it.—

We each walk our separate ways, and I head for the kitchen. As soon as I step inside, I'm surrounded by smells that make me want to stay in this room for the rest of the night. Jackson looks over his shoulder and smiles when he sees it's me.

“Everything smells absolutely amazing,” I tell her as she walks toward me.

"Sure," he says, hugging me. "Is everything okay?"

“God, I hope so,” I laugh nervously. “But I realize that as long as the food is good, that’s all people remember.”

He bursts out laughing. “That’s true, and you don’t have to worry about that.”

—Okay, well, I won't keep you. Is Kamila on her way?

—Yes, I'm very angry because she gained weight since she bought her dress last week.

I gave him an exasperated look. “And I’m sure she still looks amazing.”

—Yes. But he won't take it away from me.—

—Then I'll tell him too.—

He smiles. “Thanks. See you soon.”

I nod and turn to leave the kitchen. When I walk back out into the hallway, I see Heather has left the band to talk to the silent auctioneers. I scan the room again, wanting to feel as excited about this win as I know I should. But Jeremiah and Ezekiel loom over everything. Ever since I ran out of the gym, Jeremiah and I have continued texting, with basic Q&As, jokes—every text just between him and me. Part of me savored each text, hoping everything would go back to normal so we could stop texting like weird friends. Another part felt like I was torturing him, dragging things out that probably wouldn't work out for either of us. Especially since I'd only gotten one text from Ezekiel from the gym. Just three words.

I miss you.

I didn't reply, both because his words weren't enough and because I had no idea what to say. What good would it do to tell him I missed him too? I couldn't start texting him as if it didn't hurt anymore, as if his words were enough to ease the pain of what he'd said. That message burned up my phone, becoming the first thing I thought about every time I picked it up.

I can't allow myself to think about either of them, or the fact that they'll probably be here tonight, right now. I need to focus on everything tonight means to me and everything I need to make it all right.

"Okay," Heather says, approaching me. "Ten minutes until the doors open. Ready?"

—I'm as ready as ever. The band and the auction?—

—Ready to go.—

He reaches out and I take the receiver from the center, placing it to my ear so we can communicate throughout the event. I'm not at all surprised to see Sarah and Law arrive first. I bow deeply and nod as they approach me.

—Welcome to the Johnson Memorial Hospital Charity Fundraising Gala—, I say.

Sarah chuckles. “That’s beautiful, Laury. You did a wonderful job, just like I knew you would.”

\-Thank you.-

Law nods as he looks around the room. "This is the first time this event hasn't seemed so... pretentious. I'm sure the board will agree we made the right decision."

I smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Well, I need you to put in a lot of bidding to get started, and I hope to see you both on the dance floor someday.”

"Yes, ma'am." Sarah nods sternly.

They passed me, with the escort already at their side to guide them to their seats, and I greeted the next group of guests as they entered. About fifteen minutes into the event, people started arriving in earnest. However, it wasn't long before the first problem arose. Someone brought three guests when anyone invited was only allowed one. Heather took my place so I could go to the entrance and take care of business.

"I spend more than enough money to bring all the guests I want," says an angry man.

"Hi. I'm Laury, the event planner," I introduce myself upon arrival. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there is," the man says, turning to look at me, looking me up and down as if he's calculating my worth. "I've come to this event every year, where I spend quite a bit, and now, this year, they tell me the guests I brought won't be allowed in."

"The invitation allowed you to bring one guest, not three," I pointed out. "We'd be happy to admit one of your guests, but the other two will have to leave."

"I'm sure the charity can afford two extra plates." He lets out a cocky laugh.

The lines split in two, the one to my left moves smoothly, as this man stops all the people waiting behind him.

“Could we move this here, please?” I ask.

—No need. I arrived with three guests, and I'll welcome them with me. That's all.

He raises an eyebrow, as if his word is law and I need to acknowledge it.

—Sir, I'm sure this isn't your first gala, because, as you say, you come every year, so I'm also sure you know there's no shortage of seats tonight. And, as I've already told you, we can let one of your guests in, but that's all. Now, if we step aside so the other guests can...

"I don't care about the other guests," he whispers.

I take a deep breath to avoid saying words that have no place at a gala. It feels more like a dead end. It's as I manage a smile that I feel it. Them. Jeremiah and Ezequiel. I don't even have to look away from the growling man to know they're close. I feel their eyes fixed on me. And then, a voice I miss so much, is right in front of me.

"I think the lady asked you to step aside," Ezequiel says, but there's a threatening tone in his voice.

I like it too much. So much so that I have to suppress a shudder at the sound of it. My eyes shift to the left to find him there, dressed in black, staring at him like he wants to rip his head off. The man stares back at him, though he cranes his head to meet Ezekiel's gaze.

"And who do you think you are?" the man mocks.

—The man who will move you if you don't do it yourself—.

The man gulps, and I realize it's because everyone around us has gone silent.

"If you please, sir," I insist again.

This time he does start to walk to the side, though he makes sure to make a face at Ezekiel first. I watch him leave, followed by his guests and Ezekiel, and then a hand lands on my lower back. It reminds me of the game we played, which seems far away, and I instantly know it's Jeremiah. I want to sink into his touch, turn around and wrap myself in his arms, inhale his scent, and feel his warmth again.

"Are you okay?" he asks in a low voice.

I look over and see him in a completely black suit. His hair is loose, swept to the right, looking disheveled yet perfect at the same time. He smiles at me, and I'm surprised at how much I've missed that smile.

"Laury?" he asks, making me realize I never answered him.

—I'm fine. I've dealt with far worse people than that arrogant jerk.

Are you talking about the little one or Ezequiel?