Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he Lafferty Gala was an annual event held at the Plaza Hotel in New York City every year, the weekend before Labor Day. The Palm Court was decked out and made ready for three hundred guests, with tables of eight costing fifty thousand dollars. There was a silent auction that included a new Rolls-Royce, a speedboat, an original painting by a celebrated American artist from Michigan, Shane Gallagher, and many more luxurious items donated for the event.
Every year, five charities were chosen as recipients, and with millions of dollars raised, it was always a success. This year was no different, and anticipation was high. One of the charities, Adopt Don’t Shop, was a favorite of Collins, and she smiled when she spied one of the ladies who ran it. She’d volunteered at their shelter many times and had posed for their fundraising calendar for the last five years straight.
Usually, this made her happy. Seeing all these folks with too much, forking out their cash to give to those in need. But tonight, she couldn’t seem to summon the energy to smile. She’d been on the verge of tears for days now.
One message was all he’d sent.
Miss you.
And when she’d seen it, her heart exploded. Her knees went weak. Her arms shook. Her voice left her, but luckily, she had her fingers for typing. She’d sent him a long-winded text message, full of typos and angst that she was going to blame on lack of sleep combined with one hell of a stiff whiskey. God, just thinking about it made her cheeks blush the kind of red that was not attractive.
I miss you too. More than you know. I can’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes and mouth, and the way you feel. I love the smell of your hair and how your laugh is low. I’m so sorry for all you’re dealing with. I need to see you. I have to tell you some things. I’m a little drunk and I’ve probably said too much. I hope you don’t think I’m an idiot. Call me please. I need to hear your voice.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
“Oh, God,” she muttered, thinking of the words. There were more, but she pushed them away because it was too painful to remember.
His reply, We’ll talk soon , came shortly after, and then nothing. Now here she was, with perfect glam, wearing pale pink Chanel Haute couture, looking like a million bucks, and she was miserable. It had been an entire week since she’d seen him. Days since that last message. She knew he was going through it, and while she wasn’t mad or upset, she was just…so fucking disappointed at the entire situation.
“You look like you need this.” Her best friend, Bridget, handed her a napkin that held two chocolate-covered strawberries.
“How’d you know?” she asked lightly, popping one into her mouth.
“I just do.” Bridget bumped elbows and motioned at the room. “Looks wonderful. The room was decorated in soft creams and sage green, the tables overflowing with peonies and tulips, and hydrangeas.
Collins nodded. “Harry Boiler was in charge this year.” Harry was a friend of hers and Bridget’s. He was near and dear to them both, and after she’d unloaded her troubles the night before, he’d brought chips and candy corn up to her room. They danced to ’80s pop and sang to Madonna.
It wasn’t enough to banish her funk.
“Is that Shane Gallagher, the artist?” Bridget cranked her neck.
Collins followed her gaze and nodded. “He’s donated two paintings. Pretty sure he’s here with Beau Simon and his wife, Betty Jo Barker. His cousin, Tucker, is Kip’s agent.”
“Holy shit, he’s hot.”
“Beau Simon?”
“No, I mean, yes, he’s amazeballs too, but Shane Gallagher. Wow. Silver fox or what?”
Bridget wasn’t wrong, but there was only one man on her mind, and Collins was trying her best not to think of him. She sipped champagne and looked out at all the familiar faces. Actors and actresses, models, billionaires married to the models, tech wizards, old money, new money, it was an eclectic mix.
Her agent wandered over with Gerard DuPree, her date for the evening. The designer was flamboyant, brilliant, and after their successful shoot, a new friend. They made small talk, and when she spied her brother near the terrace, Collins excused herself and wandered over to him.
“Why are you drinking alone out here?”
A scowl crossed his handsome face. His arm was finally out of his sling, though he was still out. It was looking like he wouldn’t make the roster until spring training next year. He leaned against a wall and stared out at the city. “It’s the same shit every year. The same women. The same tired stories. I never thought I’d grow to dislike the city, but New York is looking old these days.”
She could relate, though she was willing to bet her brother’s aversion to the city was more than just boredom. Keely, his ex-girlfriend and his first serious relationship, was now married to their older brother, Duke. She was six months pregnant, and Collins knew Kip would never admit it, but it bothered him.
He glanced her way. “Did you ever hear from your cowboy?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.” He crossed over and kissed her cheek. “Chin up, Colly. The night is young, and though I’m not holding out on a win tonight, I have a feeling things will turn out differently for you.”
He left before she could question him, and she moved toward the edge of the balcony. The sounds of the city usually soothed her, but tonight it was sharp edges and loud voices. She wanted to cover her ears. Close her eyes and think of wide open spaces. That great big Montana sky, filled with all the stars in the universe. She wanted her cowboy. Wanted his arms around her. Wanted his warmth on her.
There was a big hole inside her, and he was the only one who could fill it. Not a smart move on her part, and yet, even if whatever she’d shared with him was over, she couldn’t regret those weeks in Big Bend. Benton Bridgestone made her feel the kind of alive that comes around once in a lifetime.
One lonely tear fell down her cheek, and she closed her eyes against the bright lights. Where was he tonight? What was he doing? Who was he with?
She was still for so long that she had to shake away the shadows when she finally opened her eyes. There was something out there. Lingering on the edge of the balcony. A smell. A memory.
The shadows moved, and she had to blink because a man appeared. Tall, well-built, and tanned, with thick dark hair that waved over the collar of his expensive suit. His face was angles and shadows. It was a square chin, an exceptional jawline. A mouth she’d dreamed of and eyes that could see into her very soul.
Benton.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Like you belong here.”
His eyes were too shiny, his expression too dark. She took a step toward him, but he closed the distance between them.
“I don’t want to…I don’t belong here,” she said through lips that didn’t seem to work properly. Had she spoken the words out loud? Or were they just in her head?
Benton slowly nodded. “I see that now.”
She was too close to tears to speak, and Collins counted to five. Then ten. Then she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
He slid his hand up along her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, eager for more, hungry for him.
“I’m sorry that communication hasn’t been good these past few days. That’s on me. I don’t know how to say the things I want to say on a damn phone. I was dealing with Daisy Mae, and that was a lot. But I got her settled. Now I’m here because I’ve got some things to tell you. And I should have told you sooner.” He inched closer, and she held her breath.
“My dad said something to me a few nights ago. He told me to picture next week. Next month. Next Christmas with you. Then he told me to think about how it would feel without you. It’s not real sophisticated, this thing I’m trying to say. But what it is, is simple. I don’t want a future if you’re not in it. I love you.”
She sagged against him, and he smiled as his arms crept around her waist. “I love your nose and the freckles that cover it. I love your laugh and the dimple on your right cheek when you do. I love how you chew on your bottom lip when you’re thinking real hard. And surprisingly, I don’t mind the globs of toothpaste you leave in my bathroom sink. I think I love pretty much everything about you, and I guess I’m asking if you’ll consider relocating to Montana so that I can continue finding new things to love every day.”
That big old lump was back, and it took some for her to finally be able to talk. “I think I’d like that.”
“Which part? The relocating or the reciting of things I love about you?”
“All of it.” She shook her head and grabbed his hands between her own. “This is going to sound dumb and cliche, but I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you last Christmas.”
“Not dumb,” he murmured.
“How are you here?”
“I knew the things I needed to say couldn’t be done over the phone. Once I got Daisy Mae settled, I called Ivy. She got hold of your brother, and the Bridgestones managed to snag a table.”
She glanced toward the room. “Who’s here?”
“All of us. Mike Paul and Ivy. Vivian and Dallas. Taz and Scarlett, Cal and Millie Sue. Angel came along because she’s got some stuff to do for her foundation.”
“The kids?”
He smiled. “Dad and his lady friend, Martha, are pulling babysitting duties.”
He swept his mouth across hers. Lingered there. She deepened the kiss, and he groaned when she pulled him deeper into the shadows. They made out like a couple of kids, and when he gently pulled away, the look in his eyes heated her blood.
“Keep that up and we’ll end up doing something on this terrace that just might be illegal.”
She grinned, wickedly, “There’s not much in New York that is.”
He dropped one more kiss. “Something to like about this city.”
Benton rested his forehead against hers. “We’ll do this slowly. Ease into our future. I don’t want Nora to have any doubts or concerns. Is that okay with you?”
She nodded and whispered. “Yes.”
Benton grabbed her hand in his. “Come with me. I want to officially introduce you to my family.”
Together they walked into the gala, hand in hand, smiling for the world to see. And the next day, she flew to Montana with the man she loved, ready to start living a life she’d only dreamed of.
She smiled at the thought. How very Cinderella.