15. Raven
15
RAVEN
F or the first few moments when I woke up this morning, I forgot where I was.
I was in my bed, in my home. Maybe Vinnie was snoozing next to me, or maybe he had gotten up to make a fresh pot of coffee.
Then reality came down on me like a ton of bricks.
No. I’m in the safe house.
Vinnie is in Colombia and wants nothing to do with me.
Jared had breakfast ready by the time I padded into the kitchen, wearing a robe I found in the closet of the bedroom. Yeah, somehow Falcon figured out my clothes sizes and filled the closets with several weeks’ worth of clothing. Mostly T-shirts and sweatpants.
The kind of clothes I wore when I was getting treated for cancer.
These will do for now, but I’m going to have to find a stunning dress for the gala. I guess I’ll find someone online and send them my measurements.
Breakfast is scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and hash browns. I take a bite. It’s actually pretty good. Jared put something spicy—paprika maybe—in the eggs.
“I didn’t realize you were so adept in the kitchen, Jared,” I say.
He shrugs. “I’ve been single a while. A man has to learn to fend for himself if he doesn’t want to live off TV dinners and take out for the rest of his life.”
I look him up and down. There’s certainly a lot more to this man than meets the eye.
After breakfast, I take a quick shower and then get down to business. First I have to call Robin. I take out my phone and dial her number.
“Hey Ray, what’s up?”
I draw in a deep breath and attempt a feigned sick voice. “Hey, sis. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
“Oh, gosh, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but…” I swallow. I hate lying to my twin sister. “I think I’ve overexerted myself a bit in the planning of this gala. I hate to ask for your help, I know you’re busy, but I’ve got to take it easy for the next few weeks. Want to make sure I’m in prime health for the big day.”
“Falcon already alerted me that I’d need to take a more active role. Consider it done. What do you need? I know you got the venue booked already.”
“Yes.” I put the phone on speaker and open an email with a list of things to take care of from Emily. “I can still make a lot of calls and emails, but I need you to be the in-person contact if necessary. First there’s the caterer.”
“I know just the place. A friend of mine, Lorraine, owns this fabulous gastropub. Lots of high-end appetizers, and steaks that are to die for.”
“I’d rather use Bellamy beef, if possible.”
“I’m pretty sure they already use our beef, but I can make arrangements to get it to them wholesale. Then you’ll just be paying for the food prep and the waitstaff.”
“Sounds good. And you know the menu? You know what’s good?”
“I go there at least once a week. Lorraine is good at what she does.”
“Perfect. I’ll leave you with that. I also want to hire a string quartet and a DJ.”
She pauses. “I don’t know much about that. But I’m sure there are sources to find those online. The venue probably has some contacts, certainly for the DJ. For the string quartet, maybe you could contact a local university? I bet UT Austin has a lot of great strings players who are champing at the bit for gigs.”
I make a note. “Okay, I’ll take care of that.” I scan through my email from Emily. “And then there’s décor. I definitely want floral arrangements, but the venue is pretty fancy already.”
“I’ve got it. There’s a florist right next to Lorraine’s. Easy trip for me to make.” She pauses. “What about audio-visual and lighting?”
“The venue takes care of that part. I’ll give their stage manager your contact information, though, in case they need you to go in before the day of.”
“Good.”
I take a deep breath. Robbie really is a great sister. She’s taking on all of this without question. It’s nothing overly complicated, but it’s a lot of busywork, and she already has her hands full on the ranch as one of our veterinarians.
“Anything else, Ray?”
“I think that’s it for now. Just shoot me a text if you have any questions. Thanks so much, Robbie. You’re really saving my ass here.”
“You’re the one who’s going to be saving asses, Ray. I’m just doing what I can to help. I’ll head over to Lorraine’s right now. Love you, bye.”
“Love you too.” I end the call.
Okay. Next is Emily herself. I dial her number.
“This is Emily.”
“Hey Emily. It’s Raven Bellamy.”
“Raven, yes! I was about to call you and check in on your plans for the gala.”
I sigh. “That’s what I’m calling about. I’ve been ordered by the doctors to go on bed rest for the next few weeks before the gala. I already have my sister helping take care of some of the arrangements, but I’m afraid I’m going to need a little extra help from you. I’ll be compensating you for your time, of course.”
She laughs. “Raven, I’m happy to do the work pro bono . This is a great cause. I’m so sorry to hear you’re not feeling well, though.”
“I’ll live.”
At least, I hope I will.
“What can I help you with?”
“The guest list, mainly. Most of the people I’ve invited will be coming, but I have a few empty seats I’d like filled. Do you have any…philanthropic contacts?”
“I know quite a few. Including some whose lives have been touched by cancer. I’m happy to make some calls.”
“Good, thank you. I’d also like to arrange a silent auction.”
“Wonderful idea. My firm has contacts with plenty of local businesses who would be willing to donate items or packages. In fact…” Her keyboard clicks in the background. “An old mentor of mine in Colorado has some pull with Steel Vinyards on the Western Slope. I bet we could get them to donate something.”
“Wonderful. If you don’t mind making those calls on behalf of the foundation, I’d really appreciate it.”
“It would be my pleasure, Raven. And while I have you, have you managed to find a doctor who would be interested in joining the board?”
I smile. “That’s my next call.”
“Perfect. Take care, Raven. Again, I’m so sorry to hear you’re under the weather.”
My stomach twists. All the lies.
“Like I said, I’ll live.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll start making calls right now. Talk to you later.”
“Sounds good. Bye.”
The call ends.
My next call is to Landon Michaels, an oncologist who works at the hospital I was treated in. He and I never worked together, which means he would have less of a conflict of interest. I call his office.
“Dr. Michaels’s office. This is Sherri speaking.”
“Hi, Sherri. Is Dr. Michaels available? I’d like to speak with him.”
“One sec.” Typing and shuffling paper for a second. “Actually, he’s in his office right now. May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Raven Bellamy.”
“Of course. I’ll transfer your call.”
“Thanks.”
A few seconds pass.
“Dr. Michaels speaking.”
“Yes, thank you for taking my call, doctor. My name is Raven?—”
“Raven Bellamy, yes. Sherri told me. You’re the daughter of Austin Bellamy.”
“Yes, I am. Perhaps you have heard that I am organizing a nonprofit for the treatment and research of blood cancers. We have a gala coming up in a couple of weeks.”
“Let me stop you right there. How much would you like?”
“I’m not asking for a donation, though of course if you’re interested in making one, we won’t turn you down.” I let out a nervous laugh. “But actually, I wanted to know if you’d be interested in sitting on our board. Your expertise would be invaluable to our cause.”
“I’m flattered, Ms. Bellamy.” He pauses. “When did you say your gala will be?”
“In a few weeks. You would be invited, as well as Mrs. Michaels.”
“There isn’t a Mrs. Michaels.”
I slap my palm to my forehead. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Not a problem. I’m divorced.” He chuckles. “Perhaps I’ll see if I can scare up a date.”
“You would both be welcome. We won’t be starting board meetings until after the gala, so you wouldn’t have to do anything until then but show up.”
“Sounds good.”
“So you’ll join the board?”
“I would be delighted to.”
“Wonderful. I’m actually resting up a bit before the gala, so my sister and my attorney will be the main contacts. But this number is my personal number, so please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”
“Glad to, Ms. Bellamy. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Ciao.”
The call ends.
Ciao? That wasn’t how I would expect a doctor to end a call. Dr. Michaels seems like an interesting fellow. But I did my research on him before calling. He graduated top of his class at the Northwestern Feinberg School of Medicine, did several stints of service with Doctors Without Borders, and has glowing reviews from his patients online.
I don’t have much time to think about it, because my phone then starts ringing. A number I don’t recognize.
Probably a telemarketer, but the area code is local. It could be someone calling about the gala. I bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello. Is this Raven Bellamy?”
“Speaking. Who, may I ask, is this?”
“Smith. Jack Smith, Ms. Bellamy. I’m calling you about your foundation.”
His voice is deep, but it has a bit of a squeak to it. He sounds almost nervous on the other line. But if this is a potential donor, I’ll keep talking to him.
“Yes, did you have any questions? Perhaps you’re interested in making a donation?”
He chuckles lightly. “I already made a donation, Ms. Bellamy. I submitted it through your attorney.”
Oh, my God. The money didn’t come from my father?
“Are you the anonymous donor? The fifty million?”
He pauses. “Yes, I am.”
“Wow, sir. I wish there was a proper way to express my gratitude. Money like that is going to really get the foundation started off right.”
“That was my hope. And there is a way you can express your gratitude.”
“Yes, sir. Anything.”
He pauses. “I would like for the donation to remain anonymous. I don’t want any glory. But I understand that there is a gala coming up. I would love a seat at the table. I’m willing, of course, to pay for my plate.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir. Your donation more than makes up for it.” I pull up the guest list on my laptop. “There are a few empty seats available. I’m having my attorney work on filling them, but I’ll absolutely make sure one of them stays open for you. Jack Smith, you said?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll mark you down. You will be most welcome, Mr. Smith.”
“Please, call me Jack.”
“Of course. Jack.”
I’ll call him Your Majesty if he wants, for that kind of money.
“I’ll send you an official invitation if you’d like. That has all the information you’ll need.”
“I actually got the information already. A friend of mine is one of your board members. That’s why I called. I’ll be there with bells on, as they say.”
Interesting. Maybe he’s a friend of Robin’s. Or more likely my father’s.
“Then it sounds like you’re all squared away. We will see you at the gala, Mr. Smith. And thank you once again, from the bottom of my heart. This kind of money is going to do an immeasurable amount of good.”
“I’m sure it will, Ms. Bellamy. Take care.”
Three weeks later…
I’m finally back at my own home.
The weeks at the safe house passed uneventfully, thank God.
I chose the evening gown myself from an online catalog. I sent my measurements to a dressmaker, and the gown is waiting for me when I’m finally allowed to return to my home.
The gala is tonight.
A hairstylist—I have hair now, though it’s only an inch or so long—and makeup artist arrive to help me get ready.
The gown is a deep emerald green, a color that complements my dark hair. The fabric is a rich, flowing silk velvet. The gown is tailored with a strapless sweetheart neckline and a delicate bodice with intricate beading and tiny emerald crystals.
I’ve managed to put on some weight, so the gown fits me beautifully.
I’ve been practicing what I’ll say. I asked my father to say a few words to introduce me.
Hawk will escort me, as Falcon will be escorting Savannah.
How I wish I could arrive on Vinnie’s arm.
But it’s not to be.
Jared, of course, will also be accompanying Hawk and me. But he’s promised to be discreet. Most of the guests don’t know that I’ve hired a bodyguard as personal security, and I don’t want them to feel as if something bad might happen during the event.
“Your hair is coming in beautifully,” the stylist says.
I frown. “I suppose I don’t really need a stylist.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re going to look elegant. Have you thought about earrings?”
“Some emeralds, I think. My mother has some she’s lending me.”
“Perfect. Where are they?”
“In that box over there on the dresser.”
The stylist returns, holding the earrings. “These are beautiful. And I see there’s a necklace to go with them. May I?”
“Yes, please.”
She places the necklace around my neck and puts the earrings through the pierced holes in my ears. “Lissette did a beautiful job with your makeup. You look lovely.”
“I definitely needed some blush,” I say. “I haven’t seen the sun in a while.”
“Busy making arrangements for the gala?”
I bite my lip. “In a way. Either way, I’m looking pretty pale.”
“Don’t be silly. You have a lovely tone to your skin.”
“That comes from my mother. She’s Mexican. But none of my brothers and sisters are as dark as she is.”
The stylist smiles. “She must be a beauty.”
“Yes, she is.”
I’m looking forward to seeing my mother and my father tonight. I haven’t seen anyone besides Jared for the last several weeks.
“All right,” the stylist says. “Stand up now and take a look at yourself in the full-length mirror.”
I do so, and I can’t help a gasp as I look at myself.
My dark, short hair is styled sleek, and though I never imagined myself with short hair, I have to admit it looks a lot better than no hair at all. In fact, it looks pretty smart and sophisticated. Maybe I’ll keep it.
“What do you think?” the stylist asks.
I turn to her, beaming. “I can’t thank you enough. You came highly recommended, and I see why.”
She smiles. “Lissette and I are a team. We have our own salon in Austin if you’d ever like to visit us there.”
“I absolutely will.”
“Perfect. If you’re done, I’ll pack up, and you can be on your way.”
“Yes, the gala is in San Antonio. Not quite as far away as Austin.”
“I’m sure it will be a lovely affair.”
I can’t help myself. I walk swiftly toward her and give her a hug. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me to remember that I’m beautiful.”
“You’re radiant,” she says. “You have lovely thick dark hair, and fine features. But even if you didn’t have that, your radiance comes from inside, Raven. Anyone can see it. And no one can cover it up.”
Once the stylists are gone, I take another look at myself.
I’m glad she thinks I’m radiant. All I think and think about is that I haven’t seen the sun for so long. When I got to leave that bunker this morning, I just wanted to stand in the daylight and do nothing.
That’s what I’ll do tomorrow. After the festivities.
No way am I going back to that safe house. I’m going to lie in the sun all day.
Someone knocks on my door. It’s Jared, of course. No one else is here. I open it.
His dark eyes widen. “You look amazing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He fills out his tuxedo perfectly with his muscled body.
“Your brother has arrived.”
“All right. I’m ready.”
Hawk is maybe the most handsome of all my brothers. The tallest of the three at six foot five, he’s the only one to inherit our father’s eyes. With his tanned skin tone and black hair, they stand out in a brilliant sky blue.
His tux is jet black, of course, with silver button covers, and around his neck is an emerald-green bow tie.
“No bolo?” I tease him.
“God, no. I hate those things. I can’t believe Dad still wears them.”
I giggle. “Well, he’s a Texan through and through.”
He smiles at me. “You look gorgeous, sis.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure the stylist would be able to do much with my hair, but I’m amazed.”
He squints. “And your eyebrows, they’re all grown back.”
“Pretty much.” I take out a compact and admire them. “Just a little help from an eyebrow pencil.”
“And are those your lashes?”
“Falsies,” I say. “But mine are coming back in strong.”
We leave my house, and a black limo stands out front.
I turn to my bodyguard, raising a penciled-in eyebrow. “You’re not driving us, Jared?”
“Nope,” he says. “Your brothers insisted that you go in style tonight.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say. “You can come with us. That way you don’t have to drive.”
He smirks. “I know what my job is, Raven. You won’t be out of my sight all night, and that includes the drive. I’ll be right across from you.”
The driver gets out of the limo, opens the door, and Hawk helps me in. He slides next to me, and Jared slides in after him, taking the seat facing us.
“Champagne?” Hawk asks.
An open bottle sits in the center console, and three flutes sit in secure holders.
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” I say. “I’m still not drinking much with my meds and all. Besides, I’m way too nervous and excited.”
“You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?” Hawk asks.
“Of course not.”
“Jared?” he asks.
“As much as I’d love it, I need my full faculties tonight.”
Hawk nods. “Of course.” He expertly pours himself a glass of the sparkling wine and takes a sip. “Good stuff.”
The drive is about an hour, and though I’m used to wearing sweats and loose T-shirts, I’m not uncomfortable in the elegant dress. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed dressing up, going out.
Growing up, I was always the girly girl while Robbie was the tomboy. She grew out of a lot of it, and I’m sure she’ll look beautiful tonight at the gala. But this is me in my element. I love beautiful clothes. I love looking pretty. I love being noticed.
I got my fair share of being noticed during my treatment. On the occasions when I wasn’t in the hospital, people would stare at my bald head. I got used to it. But now I’m going to be noticed because I look pretty.
I feel like myself again.
When we arrive at the gala, the driver gets out and opens the door for us. Hawk exits first and helps me to my feet. Jared follows.
Photographers are flashing, and reporters are there.
“Ms. Bellamy,” a reporter asks me. “Would you like to say a few words before you enter your gala?”
“Good evening,” I say. “Thank you for being here. I’m very excited to get my new foundation off the ground.”
Photos are snapped, and Hawk waves away the rest of the reporters as we enter the grand lobby of the hotel where the gala is being held.
Then the ballroom. It’s early yet, and only the organizers are here, along with Robin, Emily, CJ, and my parents. Falcon and Savannah enter soon after. The silent auction is set up on one side of the wall. The bar is open, and my father is already drinking a bourbon.
“Let’s get you a sparkling water or something,” Hawk says.
“That sounds great.” I swallow. “My throat is drying up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Jared stays a few feet away from me, unobtrusive.
Hawk returns from the bar and hands me my drink with a huge smile.
I drop my jaw as I notice the vivid color of the liquid in the glass. “Oh my God, is that Orange Crush?”
His grin widens. “Do you think your sister would set up a gala for you and not be sure that the bar was stocked with your favorite?”
I take a sip and then notice a woman I haven’t seen in weeks pass by.
“Oh my God, Robin!” I grab my sister as she walks by and give her a big bear hug.
“You’ll muss my dress, Ray,” she says.
Robin looks gorgeous, of course. She’s wearing flaming red. She’s always been able to get away with stuff like that. Her dress isn’t quite as formal as mine. It’s a sheath that goes midway down her calves. On her feet are strappy silver sandals with platform heels, the kind of shoes I would’ve worn before I got sick. I’m wearing simple black pumps tonight. I didn’t want to take the chance of stumbling. It’s been years since I’ve had actual heels on.
My attorney, Emily, is on the stage at the podium getting ready to make some announcements once more attendees get here. Already they’re coming in droves, and soon the ballroom is buzzing with conversation.
The ballroom is softly illuminated by chandeliers hanging high above, and the women’s gowns shimmer in the light, while the men, impeccably dressed in tailored suits and tuxedos, exude sophistication.
Bartenders, dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms, serve up a variety of cocktails and champagne, including the signature cocktail for the evening, a prickly pear margarita for a Texas touch. The faint sound of ice dropping into glasses accompanies the vibrant hum of the guests conversing.
Across the ballroom, the silent auction has begun, and clusters of attendees are mingling near the tables showcasing an array of luxury items up for bid. A soft ping from phones alerts guests as bids are placed, but other than that people are socializing quite nicely without staring at screens.
The string quartet—Robin was right about hiring college students from UT—plays softly in the background. The guests, who are a mix of socialites, philanthropists, and corporate leaders, move fluidly between the bar, the auction tables, and each other, exchanging greetings, smiles, and introductions.
Waiters glide through the room with trays of hors d’oeuvres—delicate smoked salmon canapés, mini truffle tarts, and brie bites—offering guests a taste before the formal dinner begins. Robin’s friend Lorraine really outdid herself. I’ll be having her cater all of my future donor events for sure.
The mini truffle tart is savory and delicious, and as I swallow it and take a bite of my brie, I look around.
Hawk is in conversation with Jared, and I look toward the entrance where people are still arriving.
And I swallow my brie bite nearly whole, taking a quick drink of my Orange Crush to avoid choking.
A man is here.
And he looks even better than I remember.
He’s here.
Vinnie Gallo is here.
And he’s not alone.