Chapter Eleven
Everly
Wow, those fancy light-up mirrors really exist outside of TV shows?" I announced as I entered her dressing room. Her gaze met mine in the reflection and lit up brighter than the round bulbs that surrounded her. Sarah looked stunning in full costume makeup, her hair pulled tightly into an intricate bun with dazzling jewels wrapped around it.
This was how she was meant to be seen-ready to light up a stage and dazzle an audience.
Turning, she stood, still wrapped in a satin pink robe and with her feet in fluffy slippers.
"Look at you! Tomboy turned seductress," she exclaimed, gazing at me in a way that made me completely self-conscious and awkward. What she didn't know was that I used to dress like this all the time. For a brief period, parties, charity events, and galas had been my life. It had been fun for a while-having a new dress every day and a different bag for each occasion, but none of it had mattered when August fell from my grasp. And now, fancy clothes and jewels just felt awkward and out of place.
Kind of like me.
"I'm so proud of you," I said softly, taking her in my arms. We hugged long and hard, resting our heads on each other's shoulders with the ease of two friends who'd been there for each other through the best and worst of times.
"Who would have thought?" she finally said.
Stepping back, I found her bright blue eyes and smiled warmly. "I would have. I did. I always knew you'd make it here one day, Sarah. You were meant to wow people and turn heads."
"I'm so glad we met in that lobby," she sniffled, trying to hold back tears.
"Here's to being fucked up mental cases!" I laughed. We hugged briefly again before taking a seat. She sat in front of her vanity, finishing up last minute touch-ups to her makeup, and I took the empty seat across from her and watched as more mascara was applied to her long, false lashes and sparkling white eye shadow was added to her lids.
She looked radiant-just like the swan princess she'd always wanted to be.
"So, how is everything?" she asked as I tried not to giggle. She was doing that weird opened-mouthed "O" thing women do when applying mascara. Had someone taught us to do that, or was it instinctual? I'd never had a mother or anyone to instruct me on matters of proper makeup application and yet I did the same thing.
"Everything is good," I answered. "Really good," I emphasized, hoping I'd slide by without any scrutiny.
"Oh yeah? Decide on a wedding location yet?"
Damn it. I should have known. This was Sarah. Glitz and tutus aside, she was still my best friend and like a shark, she'd always be able to seek out my issues.
"No. Not yet, but I've narrowed it down."
"How many?"
"What?" I asked, playing dumb as I watched her fuss with a tube of lipstick.
"How many have you narrowed it down to? Three … two?" she questioned.
"Ten?" I guessed, before sighing. "Okay, so I haven't really looked since that day we browsed the bridal magazine together. But I've had a lot of stuff going on, with-"
"August?" she guessed.
"No … yes," I said softly. "It's complicated, okay? He's just there … all the time. In my thoughts, my dreams … constantly invading everything. Again. I don't want him to be, but there it is. I just feel distracted and worried and anxious all the damn time," I finally confessed.
It was a confession I hadn't even admitted to myself, and having the courage to finally say it out loud made me feel like a heavy weight was being lifted off my shoulders.
Whether I wanted him to be or not, August was back in my life. I had to figure out how to deal with that. Did I terminate all contact with him? That would be the healthier option, the clearer path, yet when I thought about never talking to him again, my chest tightened and I didn't know why. This man-the one who'd caused me so much pain … why couldn't I walk away?
Sarah's warm hand touched mine and I looked up to see her tender, searching gaze. "Don't let him delay your life-again. Pick a place, marry Ryan. Live, Ev, and finally let your past go."
I nodded, knowing every word she spoke was true. She was right. I needed to let go. I needed to walk away. For good.
"Well, I did really like the little rustic church you showed me," I replied with a sheepish smile.
"Now you're talking," she grinned. "Now let's talk centerpieces."
My head was already spinning.
Nervously glancing down at my phone again, I checked the time and sighed. I'd promised Ryan I wouldn't be longer than twenty minutes, tops.
That had been almost forty minutes ago. God only knows what he was doing in this place without me. There were many reasons why I loved Ryan-his sweet nature, his devotion, and even his quirky shyness. He might have relentlessly pursued me, but only because he'd thought I was even more introverted and standoffish than he was.
Little had he known I was just scared and broken.
He figured that out soon enough, though; but still, he didn't run. That was when I knew he was a keeper. I'd been holding on ever since. And now I had to find my shy nerd of a man and rescue him from the San Francisco elite.
I moved quickly through the crowd. People mingled in the lobby, grabbing pre-show drinks and talking amongst themselves. It was opening night and everyone was dressed to impress. Designer gowns, fancy shoes, and of course jewelry were on display as I dodged and wove my way, trying not to choke on the expensive perfumes as they muddled the air. My eye caught a little girl clinging to her mother in the corner. The two of them, although nicely dressed, appeared far more conservative than many of the others, and seemed to be in their own little bubble. The mother reached down to adjust the child's dress, smoothing out the skirt so it lay flat over many layers of crinoline. She smiled, placing a small kiss on her daughter's forehead. Excitement and anticipation sparkled in the little girl's eyes as she waited for the doors to open and the show to begin.
I was so lost in the moment, wondering what it must be like for her to have that cherished memory to hold on to, that I stopped watching the path in front of me, and suddenly two hands gripped my shoulders, ceasing my movement.
"Everly?"
I looked up and saw the last person I'd expected to be here. My eyes moved down to where August touched me and I immediately pulled back, putting space between us, but the heat from his touch felt like a brand as my hand raced up to feel it.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, taking one last look at the mother and daughter before the crowd consumed them and their happy faces disappeared.
"Apparently I donate to the arts," he answered with a shrug.
"Yes, you do," I replied. "For many years. When you-after the coma, I was named the executor of your estate, so I just continued your charitable contributions," A twinge of guilt felt like it was gnawing at my side.
He nodded, a warmth in his eyes I wasn't sure what to do with, so I averted my gaze and looked at my nails, the ceiling, the floor. Anything but him.
God, I want to look at him.
"Thank you. I truly appreciate everything you did for me-I know it must have been … difficult."
I didn't have an answer for that. Or at least a short one, so I let the awkward silence between us answer for me.
"Anyway, since I'm a large contributor, I was invited to tonight's event, and I thought why the hell not?"
A small chuckle escaped my throat, and I tried to cover it with my hand.
"You find that funny?" he asked, excitement lighting his hazel eyes.
"It's just you were never one for ballet," I commented.
"Well, I'm trying out new things. Many new things. Like peanut butter … Do you like it?"
My brow peaked in amusement at his random question. "Kind of?" I answered.
"I love it. I could put it on anything. I think I ate an entire jar yesterday. And watermelon-I really like watermelon."
I couldn't help but laugh. It had been so long since I'd seen any emotion other than anger or jealousy from this man.
"So this is what you're doing with your time now? Taste-testing foods and going to the ballet?"
His eyes lifted toward the bar, and I followed his gaze. A curvy red head wearing a low-cut dress and a ton of jewelry smiled and waved.
"Ah, I see. Sampling other things as well?" I asked, as a sharp twinge of jealousy burned through my chest.
"Trying, I guess. Actually, I really can't stand her," he admitted with a laugh.
A smug smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth and I instantly tried to stop it. "Why? Not into redheads anymore?"
Why do I care?
His gaze settled on me before he spoke. "Not that particular one."
Butterflies blossomed in my belly.
As if she'd been called, August's date arrived at his side at the same time as I caught sight of Ryan. Seeing him was like being hit with a splash of cold water, and suddenly I realized who I was standing next to. Ryan's eyes immediately narrowed on August, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.