Chapter Thirty-Nine
Present - Evelyn
TODAY WAS FILLED with the kind of chaos that fuels serial planners like me, bringing organization and harmony to mayhem, facing disasters and coming out victorious. I was up at four o’clock this morning, running over the details of the vendors, decorations, catering, and flowcharts again and again, ensuring there were no pitfalls. The following twelve hours were spent rushing around the yacht club, bringing it all together.
When the guests arrive, they will be transported into a wonderland of sorts. The decorations. The florals. The ice sculpture. The violinist on a raised platform, surrounded by ballet dancers. I almost got to see it fully brought together until Marcy physically kicked me out so I could shower and get ready, while she handled the final touches.
Ara did not hold back when it came to this dress. Off-shoulder sleeves drape over my arms, where they each meet a sweetheart bustier, covered in red crystals that are delicately sewed toward the indent of my waist. The soft, red satin drops from where it gathers around my waist and falls over my hips, allowing one leg to peek through the folds. It’s no surprise as Ryder does the zip, it’s a perfect fit, expertly molded to my figure.
The gold necklace I never take off is my only jewelry.
“You look beautiful.” Ryder leans down, kissing my shoulder. We’ve decided that for tonight, we aren’t thinking about the close call he had the other night, how fleeting life has started to feel since. I focus on his bowtie, the final touch of his white tuxedo not yet done up. “Close your eyes. I have something for you.”
I lift a brow before complying.
Ryder steps away, shuffling through the jacket he draped over my bed. And then he’s in front of me, his warmth emanating into my space. “Okay. Ready.”
Opening my eyes, I take in the black sphere resting in his hand, marked with a white circle and an eight. The backs of my eyes sting, remembering the last time I felt uncertain about the path in front of us. “A Magic 8 Ball.”
“It’s the future in the palm of your hand.”
Just like when we were kids, I waste no time before giving the ball a shake. “Will I embarrass myself tonight?”
The answer floats forward, bringing a smile to my face. My sources say no.
“My turn.” Ryder takes it from me, his fingers brushing over mine before he gives the ball a shake. He looks at me for a moment, silent and still, but I can feel him everywhere, invading every part of me. Breathing in his scent of sweetened whiskey, the memory of us standing in my childhood bedroom washes over me.
We’re no longer children, suffering from the choices of others. I’m standing in an apartment I bought for myself––wearing the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen––with the man I’ve chosen to be mine––wearing a white tuxedo that softens his usual darkness and sharp lines––on the most important night of my life.
Ryder finally tears his eyes away from mine to find the answer I nearly forgot about. He smiles, just the way he did all those years ago.
“What did you ask?”
“The same question I asked it when we were kids.” Dark eyes meet mine. “I asked if I’m going to marry you.”
My heart stops as quickly as it started. “And what did it say?”
“ It is decidedly so. ” Ryder takes my left hand in his and drops to one knee. “But I have one last person to ask.”
Ryder once swore that I could be taken to space and he’d steal a rocket ship to find me. Throughout the years we spent apart, the force of our connection used to scare me, wondering if I’d be cursed with a life of comparing everything to what we had. But Ryder kept his promise. And although our path seems as dark and daunting as ever, there is no other path for me.
A tear rolls down my cheek. “You already know my answer.”
“Let me ask you anyway. I only have one shot at this, and to be honest, it wasn’t planned. I don’t even have a ring, I was just going to give you the Magic 8 Ball, but then I was looking at you, my actual future, and I–” Ryder drops his head, shaking it. “Just… let me ask.”
This moment becomes even more precious, seeing him so raw, so vulnerable. Knowing that he was suddenly consumed with the need to marry me, beats any elaborate plan.
“Okay.” I smile through the wetness in my eyes, dropping to my knees in front of him, my dress pooling around me as I lift his chin. Ryder places his hand on my cheek, bringing his forehead to mine, both of us breathing easier like this.
“I missed you every single day. I have loved you every single hour. And if you give me the honor of being your husband, I swear that I’ll spend every minute worshiping you, every second knowing that you’re the answer to every prayer I never had the guts to utter. Please say yes, because there is no version of this life that I want, unless you’re in it.”
“I’m in it,” I swear to him. “And I’ll stay in it, as your wife.”
Unable to take another second apart, I pull his mouth onto mine. Everything disappears as soon as his body is against mine, the pressure of this event going off without a hitch, the danger that’s been lurking around us, it all recedes.
Ryder is everything I know and the only thing I need.
What my soul demands, his soul delivers.
“Eves…” Ryder mumbles against my lips and I use it to my advantage, deepening our kiss against the vibrations. Ryder pulls back, giving me the space I need to reach for the zipper on my dress, but he halts me. “We’re going to be late if you do that.”
“I don’t care.”
Ryder smirks. “You will, when we get there late and you consider the entire night a disaster afterward.”
“Then let’s not go at all.” I ignore his point, slipping my hand underneath the shirt that was perfectly buttoned a second ago, feeling his muscles contracting within.
“Evelyn.” My name is a warning on his lips as he grabs my hands. “We need to go.”
Deep down, there’s a bossy, overachiever screaming that he’s right. This event has the power to catapult my entire career. But, if he’s going to be mean, so am I. “By the way, you’re going to have to talk to Ted.”
Ryder freezes. “Fuck me.”
“I’ll leave you with your thoughts while I go fix my face.” I smirk, heading back to my bedroom while his insides flip over how to convince Ted to give us his blessing. I will walk down the aisle with or without it, but it’ll be fun to watch Ryder sweat a little first.
Looking into the mirror, I smile at the chaos written across my face. The way my makeup is no longer perfect for the reasons every girl wishes for. Glancing down at my left hand, I hold out my fingers, and maybe I’m crazy, but I could swear there’s already a welcomed, invisible weight on a certain finger.
A bubble of excitement blossoms within as I imagine the moment I get to tell Lou and Ara. With that joy glowing its very brightest, I take a few minutes to restore my hair and makeup to its flawlessly set state and head back out to retrieve my fiancé .
Fiancé . It’s a requirement of getting engaged to use that word as often and as obnoxiously as possible. And it’s understood because of my career choice that I intend to hold the world record for it.
Ryder waits by the door, no trace of the rumples I left in his tuxedo, his tie sitting in a perfect bow at the base of his neck. My dark knight, dressed in white. He holds out an arm for me and I grab my clutch off the entryway table as we head out the door, tension sizzling as the elevator takes us to the ground floor.
Coming to an aggressive halt, I stare at the stretch limo parked outside of my building, as if it’s waiting for us. “What’s this?”
“This was my way of making this night special.” Ryder shrugs. “Besides, I don’t think that dress of yours would last a minute on my bike.”
“We could have taken my car.”
“Not as special.” Ryder laces his fingers through mine, such a simple gesture, but so sweet I almost break an ankle. Not missing a beat, Ryder scoops me up into his arms and I squeal as the driver opens the door for him to gently place me inside. Making sure my dress is safely tucked in, Ryder gets in after me.
The screen between us and the driver is already up and I arch a brow.
“Innocent.” Ryder lifts his hands in surrender. “If you don’t recall, I’m the only one still trying to get us there.”
“Party pooper.”
The car slowly pulls forward and as we turn the first corner, the safe in my brain that’s kept the anxiety locked down tonight, opens wide open. Grabbing my phone, I send a quick message to Marcy, making sure the place hasn’t gone down in flames yet. About half of the attendees should already be there by now.
Marcy: All is well. See you soon.
I loose a breath, hoping she isn’t lying just to save me from panicking while I can’t do anything to fix it. There are so many moving parts tonight, but surely not that much could go wrong in the couple of hours I used to get ready. I mean, every single vendor is here as a personal favor to me—and the fat paycheck doesn’t hurt either.
Ryder places his hand on my knee, putting a loving stop to the nervous bouncing I didn’t realize had started. He tilts his head toward me with a smile and we sit like that for a moment, our heads resting back on the seats behind us.
My fiancé.
A flame flickers in his eyes, a reflection of what’s ignited inside of my own, efficiently locking the anxiety back into its safe. All it takes is a look . Ryder’s hand trails up my leg, peeking through the split in my dress. He brings it higher and higher, until I’m tipping my head back and concentrating very hard on not making any sounds.
“We need to be neat, Eves,” Ryder whispers in my ear. “No smudging that perfect makeup of yours. No wrinkles in that dress. I’ll walk into that event with you on my arm, and nobody will know what I made you feel in the back of this limo.”
Ryder’s words burn through my center, as he begins a tantalizing rhythm, hand hidden by my dress. I open wider for him, moving in time, greedy to take as much of him as I can like this. It won’t be enough, it will never be enough. No matter how many times I feel his hands on me, our bodies intertwined, the insatiable desire persists.
“I need all of you.” Reaching for his pants, I dare him to try and stop me again.
Ryder’s voice comes out strangled. “Eves, if we keep going, it’ll be no secret what we did.”
“Then let them all know.” My words are his undoing.
Ryder lifts me onto him, his movements so much smoother and certain than mine. If I had a mind for anything but him right now, I’d grouse about the unfairness, but my eyes are busy devouring the full scope of him, as he slowly lowers me on top. Ryder puts his hand over my mouth, muffling the moan he knew I wouldn’t be able to contain.
We waste no time, letting our desire run completely unleashed. Ryder’s hands fall onto my hips, deepening the way we come together.
“I’m yours, Eves and I will be for the rest of your life. Tomorrow we’re going to buy you a ring. Everyone will look at that finger of yours and know you belong to me.”
We move faster and faster, his words fueling our need.
“The next time you touch me, I want to feel the cool metal permanently wrapped around your finger. I want to watch the diamond sparkle as you cling to the sheets, but for now, I’ll have to settle for those red lips parting on my name.”
A crescendo courses through me, giving and taking until there’s nothing left for me to give. Any last part of me that didn’t belong to him, now does. And it’s my turn to place my hand on his mouth, as I fall over the edge and take him with me.
I kiss Ryder sweetly, resting my forehead on his. My blush travels all the way up my throat as I return to my seat and look at what I’ve left in my wake. Ryder smiles as he straightens up my dress as much as possible, before tucking himself away. With a little more work, we look good as new.
Ryder pulls out a champagne bottle, tucked into the door. He fills two plastic wine flutes, holding one out to me. “A toast?”
Taking the plastic glass, I hold it in the air. “To using the word fiancé so often, even our friends can’t take it anymore.”
Ryder laughs, a real laugh, and I relish how perfectly it complements that sentence. My fiancé. Our friends. The prospect of spending girls’ nights complaining about wedding plans while Lou grumbles about being a bridesmaid again . Ryder stuffing Connor into a suit and giving him the honor of being his best man.
He passes me his flute, retrieving the wire cage that was secured around the cork. He fiddles with it, twisting and untwisting it, bending and wrapping it into obeying.
“What are you doing?”
Ryder presents me a misshapen, little metal circle. “A placeholder.”
He takes my left hand in his, slipping it onto my ring finger with an almost perfect fit. It looks ridiculous, the kind of thing my classmates made for their moms in school, but no matter how beautiful of a ring we pick tomorrow, this one will always be my favorite.
Ryder kisses the back of my hand. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Our limo pulls up to the yacht club and the driver opens our door a moment later, a team of event photographers snapping our photo. Ryder catches my hand, glancing down. “You’ve still got the metal on your finger.”
“I plan to keep it there all night.”
Ryder smiles down at me, right as a camera flashes. That is one picture I’ll definitely be hunting for. As we make it up the stairs, he takes in the opulent beauty. “As much as you hate what this place stands for, I can see the appeal.”
I snort. “Seriously?”
“I’m just saying, spending a summer here doesn’t seem so terrible.” Ryder shrugs. “You should embrace it. Maybe take the girls here sometime.”
Huh. Is that why this place has always seemed so awful to me? Because I’ve never been willing to give it a chance?
I’ve never looked at the marble floors and appreciated how they shine back at me. I’ve never glanced at the chandeliers and admired their craftsmanship. I’ve never looked at the solid gold that adorns every room and admitted how lovely it truly is. I’ve viewed it through a lens, deeming it all a waste rather than someone’s greatest creation––in the same way that this event is my greatest creation.
Everything is a spectacle, garnering gasps of pleasant surprise and wonder. From the moment you step through the door, you’re captivated by the fantastical theme of a secret garden. The illuminated golden smoke reels you in before taking you through the threshold of another, better world. Dancers twirl, light reflecting off their golden masks and sparkled tutus.
We are ushered to the right, down the hall that leads to the crystal ballroom and location of tonight’s event. Everyone is bedecked in jewels and dresses, evening gowns and black tuxedos. But the crowds part to the side, allowing me and Ryder passage, a red and white wave, cresting through the many guests. People stop and stare, but all I find in their eyes is curiosity, if not a little bit of envy. There’s no trace of the contempt or disdain I’ve grown to expect.
Conversation halts, silence rippling across the room as Ryder and I enter. We pause at the top of the stairs, taking in the shockwave emitted from our arrival. Ryder looks at me, offering his arm, and I take it. We take the steps slowly, not only so I don’t mop the floor with my face, but because the more unhurried the gait, the cooler you look.
The violinist stands on her raised platform at the center of the room, surrounded by the ballerinas as they perform a series of classical interpretations of today’s greatest songs. Waitresses move around the room with golden platters, offering jewel-encrusted goblets of champagne.
As we’re released into the throng, I take in everything from a different perspective. Choosing a man who’s caught up in the life he is, this newfound appreciation and achievement could be fleeting, but perhaps that is why it feels so special. All of this means nothing—has meant nothing—without him by my side.
I spot my parents in the center of the ballroom, warmth spreading in my chest as I see the look on their faces, not an ounce of polite discomfort, but sheer pride. And love. For both me and Ryder. Preston’s parents stand with them, a point I try to ignore because it likely means their son is around here somewhere.
We’re offered a goblet and food so beautiful, it’d be a shame to eat it if it wasn’t so delicious. I take one of the brie and lobster crackers, garnished with truffle, my personal favorite. The caterer is at the back of the room, and I give her a little wave, a friend I made in the world of businesses run by men. It didn’t take too much convincing for her to clear the schedule for tonight and provide such an impressive spread.
Marcy finds me a moment later, wearing a lovely navy halter neck dress.
“Hi, Marcy.” Ryder greets her politely.
“Ryder.” Marcy begins fanning herself with a paper, covered in bullet points and crossed-off tasks.
“I’ll go see your parents while you catch up.” Ryder kisses me on the cheek before leaning closer to my ear. “There’s something I should probably mention to your father.”
My neck warms as he walks away, and Marcy wordlessly passes me the paper she was using as a fan, which I graciously accept, slipping into the Evelyn Ashbluff persona who made Elegant Events what it is. “So, where are we at?”
Marcy stares at my left hand. “More importantly, what is that ?”
“A placeholder.” I wave her off, a conversation for later. Right now, I need to make sure this event is everything I’ve intended for it to be. “The vendors seem to be all under control, as well as the ambience.”
“A placeholder for…a ring-ring !?” Marcy’s eyes bug out.
“Yes, but that’s not important–”
“Oh my gosh!” Marcy gasps. “I’m not going to let you get away without telling me the entire story, but the president of the yacht club is fast approaching in three, two, one … Hello, Mr. Turndale.”
Smoothing the bottom of my dress, I turn to greet Mr. Turndale, recognizing him from the afternoons I spent here as a child. He’s barely aged, dressed in a sparkling black suit, tipped in gold glitter.
“Marcy, this event is sensational. We knew that Elegant Events was exactly what we were looking for.”
“Actually, Mr. Turndale, the person you want to thank is right here.” Marcy nudges me forward. “Evelyn Ashbluff, founder and CEO of Elegant Events, and the true mastermind behind everything you see.”
“Evelyn Ashbluff.” Mr. Turndale offers a hand, and I graciously accept. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Turndale. I’m happy to hear that you’re satisfied with the event.”
“Satisfied would be selling our feelings short.” Mr. Turndale’s brow furrows. “Did you say Ashbluff? As in Ted and Kellin Ashbluff?”
“Yes. They’re my parents.”
Familiarity sparks in his eyes. “You’re not the daughter who used to hang around here as a girl doing homework, are you?”
I flush. “The very one.”
“Time flies when you get old.” Mr. Turndale shakes his head. “Well, I’ll make sure to let them know that they should be very proud. This event is nothing short of extraordinary.”
“Thank you, Mr. Turndale.”
“I’ll be sure to have you back next year, if your schedule allows, though I’m not sure how you’ll ever top this.”
“I’ve never shied away from a challenge, Mr. Turndale.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Turndale grins. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Ashbluff. And thank you, Marcy, for everything you’ve done to assist her.” As he walks away, continuing his circle around the room, a feeling of pride rises up within me.
Marcy squeezes my hand. “This is much better than you expected, isn’t it?”
It’s almost unbelievable, as if the secret garden we created here has stolen me away, too. “I feel as though I made it all up, the sneering and contempt I received all those years.”
“You were looking through the eyes of a young girl who had no idea where she belonged in this world.” Marcy glances over to where Ryder shakes my father’s hand. “You’ve got a different perspective now.”
And my perspective looks absolutely delicious in his tuxedo. “So, what do we need to go over?”
“Honestly?” Marcy bites her lip, scouring the list. “Nothing. It’s all under control. You should go enjoy the event.”
“Marcy, I’m here to work, not abandon you.”
“Evie. You’ve spent more hours bringing this to life than you’ve spent sleeping. If you don’t enjoy the fruits of your labor, I won’t show up to work on Monday.”
I frown. “Marcy.”
“If anything goes wrong, I promise to find you.”
As I open my mouth, Marcy holds up a hand. “I’ll hear nothing more out of you.” And then she’s off, my sweet Marcy, flagging down one of the catering staff to request more goblets.
Taking a moment, I spin in a small circle, marking the smiles and laughs, the bewildered joy, and let the contentment spread through me. Although wholly different from the turmoil I faced as a child, these people face their own version of it. For each of them it’s different, but being surrounded by revelry and celebration, they seem a little happier.
Ryder meanders over, looking mighty sure of himself. “I spoke to your father.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Kellin wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, and I smile. “You’re still standing, so I imagine it went well?”
“We have their blessing.”
I lift a brow. “They hated you a few weeks ago.”
“I can be charming. When I want to be.” Ryder shrugs before taking my left hand in his. “I wanted to ask you–”
“Evelyn?”
My shoulders prickle at the voice I’d hoped to avoid completely tonight. Screwing my face into a polite smile, I turn, tucking myself closer to Ryder’s side. “Preston. What a surprise.”
“Is it, though?” Preston jeers, obviously intoxicated already.
“Someone’s taken the bottomless champagne goblets a little too seriously,” I joke lightly, noticing the red tinge in his eyes too late.
“And you’re finally going through that rebellious stage I was always waiting for.” Preston looks me up and down, the icky feeling spreading from my shoulders.
“You feel like taking something out on someone, you look at me.” Ryder places a cautionary hand on my lower back. “Not her.”
Ted, noticing the tension from where he was standing, approaches, looking at Preston warily. “Something wrong, Preston?”
“We’re all good over here, Ted.”
My dad looks at me and Ryder, picking up on the discomfort. “Preston, why don’t you take me over to your father and we can talk about that trip to Italy?”
“I said we’re all good , Ted.”
“It was nice to see you,” I manage as I try to lead us away, but Preston steps in front of me, blocking my path the way he always has.
“Was it? Because you’ve always looked at me like I was something stuck on your shoe, but here you are parading around with trash.”
Ryder takes it like a man, but I can see the fury in his eyes. He could smear Preston across this floor, but for my sake, he remains the face of calm. “Not here, Preston.”
“That is enough . I think you’ve had too much to drink.” Ted waves over Preston’s mother. “It’s time he’s taken home.”
“What’s going on?” she asks, eyes wide as she glances between the four of us, noticing her son’s growing agitation. She puts her hand on Preston’s shoulder, a knowing look in her eye. “I’m going to get your father and we’re going to leave.”
Preston’s mom throws an apologetic glance toward us and hurriedly walks off in search of her husband. The tension doesn’t subside in her absence, despite Ted doing his damndest to ease it.
“Bad nights happen to the best of us,” my father reasons. “Take a beat. Go home and rest.”
Instead, Preston takes a step toward Ryder, and I throw out my hand, hoping it’s enough to stop this before it starts. Preston’s eyes zero in on my left hand, which I snatch away, putting it behind my back. I’m not sure why I do, the placeholder ring shouldn’t bother him, but I know it will.
And it does, landing right in the center of the freakish obsession he’s had with me for all these years.
“ Are you kidding me ? You’re fucking trash and wearing it?”
My jaw drops, complete disbelief and rage pounding through me. Ryder steps forward before I can. “Don’t utter another word in her direction, you hear me?”
Preston steps forward too, bringing them face to face. “What are you going to do if I do?”
“Here?” Ryder cocks his head. “Nothing. Because this is a big night for her and I’m not going to let my ego get in the way of that, but I’d be happy to mess up something else on your face the next time I see you.”
Something else? That’s when I notice the only imperfection on Preston’s plastic-looking face, a crook in his nose that wasn’t there in college. Ryder’s hand flexes as if in memory, dropping it all into place.
And then Preston launches himself at Ryder.