Chapter 110

I get up with renewed vigor the next morning. I’ve slept better than I have for days and somehow, I‘m more able to cope. I eat, wave Sarah off to work and tell her I have a day off to get ready for the dance. It’s not a complete lie as I intend to get ready in grand fashion, going to lengths I’ve never bothered with before. Wilma is right, a good dress and a girly night with Leila will help. I intend to follow Leila’s example. Something she taught me on the yacht was pampering is an enjoyable girly pursuit and can almost fool you into believing you don’t have a broken heart. She also told me that a good night with a girlfriend can change your whole outlook on life.

I manage to book an appointment at a beauty salon for just after noon and I’m having the works. Nails, hair, waxing, make-up. I have a room full of people to impress, who have seen nothing but gaunt and lifeless Emma for weeks. Senior Carrero will be there, and I want to regain some of my pride in front of him. This dance means so much more than a night of fun for me, it’s a chance to save face and present my old self again. Emma reborn as who she used to be.

I spend the morning trying on dresses and finally settle on a floor length, red, slinky dress. It has a low cut back, corseted front and no straps. It clings to every curve and falls in a pool of fabric on the floor. It’s one Donna chose for an elegant banquet we never attended weeks ago, at his request, seeing as she’s his personal shopper and shops for anything he needs on demand. Jake’s Armani tux was sent back but this was mine. Jake never expected me to return anything that was bought for me, always generous to a fault. I find the shoes to match in the pile of unopened boxes in my bathroom. She’s gone for Hollywood glam, vintage red heels in matching satin to the dress. Jake always said red suited me and I hope he’s right. It’s a color I’ve only worn once … at his pushing on that damn boat.

I make my appointment with time to spare, feeling nervier than I should since this is something I’ve rarely done in my life. Leila was my first proper experience with salons and beauty treatments. So, I’m glad when they don’t keep me waiting for the full glam treatment, starting with a hair trim and highlight retouch. I want my hair back to how it was the first day I cut it. It’s grown so much and tickles my shoulders a lot. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I know I’m thinking about Jake’s reaction, the first time he saw my hair and deep down I want him to see me that way again.

Don’t go there. Tonight, is neither about him nor for him. It’s about moving forward.

* * *

Standing at the mirror in my bedroom, nauseous with anticipation. I look every bit red-carpet ready; it even wows me, and I wish Sarah was home to see. I look, for the first time in my life, elegant and dare I say, a little bit beautiful. They’ve given me subtle nineteen-fifties make-up with a nude lipstick and winged eyeliner. My skin is flawless, my cheeks blushed and high, my nails a natural French manicure, so clean and polished. My hair is left down in its natural waves. It’s shorter again and brushed to one side and I look seductive. I can’t believe the girl in front of me is my own reflection. The dress sculpted to a body I’m rather proud of and I stand elegantly in my heels.

A tremble of nerves courses through me, anticipation, and dread in equal amounts. I know tonight is either going to be wonderful, or disastrous. I just hope that it won’t be the latter. I know Leila can get me through this and I need to see her so badly.

I grasp my silver clutch and pull on the silver fur stole that Donna chose for another outfit, but it looks good. I’ve booked a cab and it’ll be here any minute. I feel sick to my stomach; my hands are shaking badly when I slide the ticket into my bag with my cell and cash. I steel down my nerves and head out to wait for my ride in the cool evening air.

This is a new me. Be brave. Take a deep breath, and smile. You can do this.

* * *

The huge venue is every bit as glamorous as any I’ve been to with Jake before, complete with a red-carpet entrance, flashing cameras, and tuxedo wearing security. I pass easily with my ticket, getting slight interest from photographers as they try to decide if I’m a celebrity or not, a few flashes just in case. I’m a little proud but I keep my chin down and walk inside. Leila knows I’m coming, her text said she’d find me, so my only task is to get inside and amuse myself until then. Find something to do until she rescues me.

The inner floor is full of people mulling around in various degrees of expensive formal wear. The music from the full orchestra is loud and invading and the noisy bustle of chatter and scraping chairs, chinking glasses is almost overpowering. It’s been going on for an hour already and seems almost full, no huge wave of late comers to this merry event.

I weave my way through the crowd, looking for my table, names are placed on cards at the plates for the main meal. I refer to the huge easels in the corner, holding large printed seating plans, and pale as I locate my name among the guests. I’m still seated at the Carrero table next to Jake, seated as his date.

Shit! What was I thinking? I should’ve known this would happen. No one would’ve informed them of a seating change … Margo would’ve known this.

I lose all bravado, blood running cold, turning, I panic, and rush off toward the entrance, flustered and emotional.

I’m not staying and doing this; the meal takes up more than an hour of the night. I can’t sit beside him sipping wine and acting like all of this is okay.

What the hell was Margo thinking?

I can’t breathe, I need to go. Go home and forget all of this. All my confidence is gone, and a sickening feeling is rising inside of me, urging on the breathlessness of an anxiety attack. My face heats as color creeps up my skin and I desperately push my way across the overcrowded floor, rushing to find my escape through the crowds haphazardly. I feel like an idiot and start tugging and twirling a strand of my hair manically.

I’ll just text Leila and tell her I felt unwell.

I move forward into the room and realize the only way out is across the dance floor. It’s less crowded and easier to navigate than the bustling walkways. I push on, rage and emotion spiraling inside of me and I’m not looking where I’m going, blinded by watery eyes and complete disappointment in myself.

I look up as I push through a tight group of people in black formal wear and come face to face with Jake, mid-dance floor, stopping dramatically and almost have a heart attack.

Shit!

Literally two feet away.

My breath halts in my chest painfully, the sight of him spins my world and drowns out everyone around me. His eyes meet mine with equal trepidation and I’m captivated, a prisoner to him, under that steady green gaze pushing away everything else that surrounds us.

We stand motionless, feet apart. An instant increase in the tension around us, making me want to crumble. He looks like my dreams, flawless perfection in a black tuxedo and white shirt, a doorway to my soul. He looks every bit James Bond and bad boy rolled into one and it’s painful to witness. His gaze is steady on me, never leaving my eyes as neither of us move or say anything. His expression is calm, but I want to know what he’s thinking. Long for him to say something instead of just staring at me that way.

“Oh, my god, Emma!” Leila’s excitable voice grabs my attention as she dives on me from the left. Jake was obviously with her and she begins hauling me into an overeager embrace around the neck, turning me to her. I grimace in surprise but let my arms find a path around the energetic creature and tear my focus away from the one man holding all my attention.

“Whoa, Leila.” I choke, laughter breaking over me at her exuberant welcome. Glad of her sudden distraction. She releases me and grabs my hands, bouncing up and down excitedly and I catch a glimpse of Jake watching us. His expression unchanged, his body language stiff.

“I’ve missed you, millions! Emails are not the same, Miss. Ems. You look freaking sensational!” She spins me around, surprisingly strong for someone so small and I gasp at the movement, lose my footing on the high heels, and fall sideways. Strong arms catch me, pulling me upright while instant searing heat at the contact flows through me. I know without looking that Jake has me. He expertly stands me and holds my upper arms, releasing me once I’m steady. Trying for composed and cool seems to be my only focus. I just hope he doesn’t see the way I trembled at his touch or closed my eyes until he had put me upright. Unable to bear his touch.

I take a slow breath to regain my composure, but Leila seems oblivious.

“Careful, Leila.” Jake scorns in a paternal tone. I try to avoid looking at him, my body fluttering at his presence even though he’s let me go. I catch his eyes skimming my dress and flush inside, but he looks away and watches other people in the crowd. That unreadable face and taut body hiding everything going on in his complex mind.

“I can’t help being so happy to see her, Jake, you keep her hidden from me.” She smarts with a cheeky smile. I glance at him quickly, seeing the frown flicker across his face when he looks back at Leila.

He hasn’t told Leila that I don’t work for him anymore? I guess neither have I, it never crossed my mind to tell her or anyone that Jake removed me from his life.

“I’ve been working.” I cut in smoothly, avoiding his eyes again. Music overtakes our conversation as the instruments heat up and a slow ballad comes across the air, making conversation near impossible.