Chapter 13 #3
She took the glass and twisted it in her hands before taking a small sip from where he had. Then the lights dimmed, and Amanda made her way to the front of the room to help with the night’s festivities. A short video was shown, and three honorees spoke after Amanda presented them with their awards.
Afterward, they sat around the table for coffee and dessert.
The entertainment for the rest of the evening was a twenty-piece band, complete with male and female vocalists, and backup singers.
They were very good, and very expensive.
When they started in on a duet, guests began moving toward the dance floor.
Alexander watched as Stephen and Sam, sparks almost visibly flying between them, headed out toward the lobby. Then, Amanda excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and when he stood to follow, she shook her head, saying, “I’ve got this. Go grab another drink or check in with the guys.”
He nodded and gave Stan the signal, not that he needed to, since his wife was already being followed by most of the crew. He hoped she didn’t turn around.
He hadn’t planned on the night going as well as it had.
Before this evening, he’d set his mind on New York and Callie’s birthday, nine days from now.
He’d decided that once he’d had Amanda at what would be their east coast compound, memory or not, they would be together.
Finally. Biblically. Now he was rethinking his best laid plans.
Presently. It was fluid and changing moment by moment.
Everything had gone so smoothly so far that evening, when Amanda walked back into the ballroom and motioned with her head toward the dance floor, he found himself mouthing hell yes. She grinned, eyes sparkling, and waited for him to join her.
“Come on, gorgeous,” he said, lacing their fingers together when he reached her.
He looked toward the band, made eye contact, and got a nod in return.
Satisfied the plans he’d made with the bandleader earlier in the evening were clear, he led Amanda through a very crowded dance floor, keeping her safely positioned behind him as his large frame parted the moving couples.
When he found a suitable spot, he brought her around with a gentle pull of their joined hands, and with a perfect twirl she was flush against him.
She got comfortable in the crook of his neck, but a moment later, just as the song was ending, she leaned back and gave him a critical, questioning look.
“Did you request something?” she asked. “Back there…?”
After a quick kiss to her soft lips, he smiled, pressing his forehead to hers. “Wait for it.” And on his cue, it began.
“Oh, Alex,” she whispered at the opening notes, “it’s Paul McCartney.
” Yeah, it was. “The Long and Winding Road.” It was one of the first songs she’d played for him back in Abersoch.
They’d sat on the piano bench together as she fingered the keys and sang to him about that road that led to his door, and how she hoped it wouldn’t disappear.
She’d thought the lyrics poignant then, considering their circumstances.
And, now, in light of finding her, they were even more so.
He pulled her close, feeling freer than he could ever remember.
Ever. Sam and Stephen danced their way over, and he shared a look with his brother.
Contentment, joy, validation, vindication. Bloody hell, they’d done it.
They stayed on the dance floor for a good hour.
He’d long ago removed his jacket and tie, and he’d held Amanda up as she’d taken off her shoes.
All the dancing they’d done in the parlor of their Abersoch estate, and his home here in Cali, came to life right here in high def at this gala on this dance floor.
It had to be one of the most enjoyable nights he’d ever had.
Period. All company included. All the history they carried with them and behind them.
They were catching their collective breaths when Art took the mic and started to thank everyone for such a successful night.
“I know we hadn’t planned this in advance, and Montgomery’s next song request is going to have to wait,” he said, laughter sprinkling throughout the room as everyone craned to look at him.
“But,” Art continued, “in honor of my beautiful wife, Betty,” he said as he lifted a glass in her direction, “and in celebration of our fiftieth wedding anniversary on Sunday, I’d like to ask a special favor of Jason Wild and Amanda Marceau. ”
Alexander turned to Amanda, raising his eyebrow questioningly when he heard her whispered “Oh, jeez.” Blushing with embarrassment over the attention, she quickly filled him in on how five years ago she and Jason had sung Art and Betty’s favorite song at that year’s gala.
When he asked her which song, she only gave him her signature wait-for-it grin.
Which meant he would know the song. The anticipation was killing him already.
When Art said, “Jason, Ammy, will you do us the honors?” Jason, whom Alexander had met briefly earlier that evening, stepped forward with a sheepish smile and extended his hand to Amanda.
“You okay with this, sweetheart?” Alexander asked, before relinquishing her to Jason.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good,” she agreed before following Jason to join Art in front of the crowd.
“So, a little history with the song,” Art said. “I know it’s considered an oldie in certain circles, but way back when, my wife and I would go out every Saturday night for dinner and dancing with our best friends, Lynne and Jack Marceau. And we always finished the night with this one.”
With that, Alexander knew it was “Whenever I Call You ‘Friend.’” Amanda had sang it for him often, and he couldn’t wait to hear her sing her parents’ favorite song, here, now.
“I have to tell you,” Art went on, looking at Amanda, “there’s not a day that goes by that we don’t miss them. You were the light of your daddy’s eye, Amanda Abigail, and so was your mother. He never got over losing her. Ever.”
Art was choking on the words, and Alexander teared up along with him and Amanda. Art wiped his eyes, and shook it off with a “Whew… So, Jason, you be Kenny, and Ammy, you take on Stevie, and I’m going to dance with my gal.”
Everyone clapped, and Amanda and Jason each grabbed a mic while Art led his wife to the center of the dance floor. Then, as the music began and backup singers harmonized, his barefoot beauty swayed back and forth, smiled right at him, and joined Jason.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Neither could the crew who’d all gathered around him, including Stephen and Sam.
His wife was so good, and her direct eye contact with him as she sang that she’d come to understand that everywhere they were they were meant to be let Alexander know she was singing right to him.
When they were finished, she and Jason received a standing ovation, after which they thanked everyone profusely. He’d had a waiter bring a Diet Coke for her and when she joined him again, she drank half the glass.
“You were amazing,” he congratulated, pulling her into his arms.
“What’s next, Montgomery?” she asked.
“Our whole lives,” he said, though he knew she was referring to the song request. Amanda had told him during one of their dance sessions that the song he’d cued up for next was all the rage on the party circuit now, and considering the lyrics, they should add it to the list of “their” songs.
The band was waiting, and together he and the crew each lifted a hand high in the air, in the universal display of one.
And the band played “One Call Away” by Charlie Puth.
Yeah, it was cheesy, but she melted right in front of him, loving it.
Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him rock her back and forth as he whispered the lyrics to her, that he’d be there and save the day, that Superman had nothing on him because he was only a call away.
And when the song was over, he couldn’t wait another moment.
“Come with me?”
Out of breath from dancing and singing with Jason, Amanda froze at Alex’s pointed words, stunned and wondering if she’d heard him correctly. Her heart skipped a beat, then filled and all but flowed over. She clutched his shirt, got right in his face, and confirmed, “Anywhere.”
When he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the doors, she almost squealed from the rush she felt inside. From the top of her head to the tip of her toes, her insides were churning more than on any teacup carnival ride.
He made a hand signal to Stephen, and said to all listening, “Mama and papa bear—out. Hold down the forts. All of them.” She could only imagine the cacophony from his earpiece by the grin on his face.
They got stopped three times on the way out, and were both so anxious to get—well, she didn’t know where they were getting, but when they had to make pleasantries, they practically bounced from foot to foot and squeezed each other’s hands so tightly it became a game.
Finally, the front door was in sight, but when she started toward it, he pulled her back flush against him and whispered in her ear, “We have a suite.”
She turned and grabbed his shirt again. “Oh, my god. You’re a genius.”
Then he was pulling her again, and as if by magic the elevator doors opened. She was familiar with this hotel, so she knew that they were headed up in one of the private key-access-only elevators to a penthouse suite.
Without taking his eyes from hers, Alexander lifted the fob to the control panel inside the elevator.
As the doors closed behind him, his eyes pinned her to the wall, his nostrils flared, and this time she squealed for real.
He came right at her, pressed his body fully against her, and kissed her so passionately, it was almost devastating. She felt it, him, deeply.