Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aubrey
Bree found it difficult to breathe as they drove to Trenton for the gala. That was partially due to the fact she was going to have to stand in front of a room full of people and give a speech about a topic that was particularly vulnerable for her. But at the moment, it was mostly due to the man sitting next to her looking like he stepped out of a black and white film—debonair with a large dash of danger. Her blood heated, and she ducked her head down to hide her blush, though it would be difficult to see in the car as it got darker.
Jessica always loved the old black and white films. They used to sit on the couch on Friday nights and each have a movie picked out and ready to go. In the days of Blockbuster, you were almost guaranteed to find an old movie in stock, which is probably what started Jess’s obsession with them to begin with. Bree’s heart ached as she thought of Jess and how they ended up where they were. Jess, in a hospital bed, and Bree on her way to talk in front of hundreds of people. The Bree that Jess had known would have never considered doing something like that. Never been on stage. Never taken the risks Bree had in order to take care of her family. Bree frowned as she looked out the window. Life would have been so different.
Maybe her father wouldn’t have fallen so deep into gambling. Maybe her mother wouldn’t be a shell of the woman she once was. Losing a child did that. It broke marriages and broke people. Thinking of her father’s gambling problem made Bree’s blood boil. Who did that to their children? To their family? She was working on sitting with the anger and letting herself really feel it, but not hold on to it. Just like her therapist had taught her. Holding on to those emotions didn’t make her father suffer—it chained her down.
She took a deep breath and let the emotions sizzle, then she exhaled and let them go. Each time was a little easier, but the sting of that particular betrayal was going to take a while to let go of. As the venue came into view, Bree felt her heart rate quicken and took a fortifying breath. What was five minutes of her time? In a few hours, this would be over—for better or for worse.
They pulled up into the valet line when they reached the venue, and Noah turned to look at Bree. He cleared his throat and turned to fully look at her. “I know you’re nervous, and that’s okay. It means that this is important to you and you want to do a great job. That nervousness is a strength, not a weakness. You are a strong, smart, fierce woman who is able to take on the world with a mix of compassion and steel that is absolutely irresistible. I will never get enough of you, Aubrey Gray.” Bree felt her eyes get a little misty as she watched him reach into his pocket. He pulled a small square out and offered it to her, watching her closely.
Bree reached out and took the square from him—it was a small square of fabric, probably no more than two inches by two inches and made from velvet and some sort of slicky material on the back.
“It’s for your pocket.” He said, nodding toward the square of fabric as he pulled the car forward. “That way you can rub it to help calm your nerves.”
Bree couldn’t help the tear that escaped her eye as she clutched the piece of fabric tightly. Noah took her eccentric behaviors that others had mocked her whole life and not only embraced them but encouraged them.
“Thank you,” She croaked out as they pulled ahead and put the car in park.
Noah smiled at her softly, his eyes gazing into hers. “You’re welcome.”
“Ma’am?” A voice interrupted from her right. Bree turned, surprised she hadn’t noticed the door being opened, and chastised herself. Way to go, Bree. If the stalker was there, he could come into the ball wearing a bird costume and dancing the Macarena in the middle of the dance floor, and she’d be too wrapped up in Noah to notice.
The valet who opened her door had a forced smile on his face, seemingly irritated at them for taking so long to get out of the car. He held out his hand to her, and she accepted it, a chill moving through her. She let go of his hand as soon as she was steady on her feet and draped her shawl around her shoulders to guard against the chill.
“Thanks, man,” Noah said, handing the valet a tip before wrapping his arm around Bree’s shoulders.
The valet looked at Noah and raised his eyebrow, which was dissected by a scar. “You’re welcome.” He said stiffly. “Enjoy your evening.”
“You too,” Bree said congenially.
The valet smiled at her. “Thank you, I will.” He said, walking over to the driver’s side and getting in to take it to park. Bree smiled at Noah and tucked in close, soaking in his warmth and strength and just enjoying his presence.
They walked into the hallway and bypassed coat check. It was too cool for Bree to want to give up her shawl. No way. Noah squeezed her shoulder and inclined his head across the ballroom. The rest of the Hawthorne Security team was stationed at each of the immediate exits around the room, along with one or two security guards hired by the event or other individuals attending. Bree felt her shoulders relax for the first time since they left the house. She was safe here. There was enough security here that no one was going to so much as sneeze without security knowing.
They walked to their assigned table and made small talk with their table mates before taking a walk around the ballroom.
“How are you doing?” Noah asked, covering Bree’s hand with his own as they walked.
“Other than being convinced I left my notecards at home when I can tell they’re in my pocket, I am good. It’s a beautiful venue.” She said, nodding at the tables decorated with white tablecloths, elegant place settings, and large centerpieces that gave an ethereal quality to the space. The lights were slightly dimmed which gave the room a hint of intimacy.
Noah would probably say it was intimate without compromising the security of attending guests—if she wanted to get the rundown on all things security. Which she didn’t. Not tonight. Tonight she just wanted to enjoy being a young woman at a fancy party with her hunky boyfriend and her best friends—minus Steph. She made eye contact with Theo, who made a funny face at her, and she laughed, smiling back at him.
“How long until they start dinner?” Bree asked Noah as her stomach rumbled.
“Any time now. Dinner, speeches, and then dancing.”
“You gonna spin me around the dance floor, Noah Hawthorne?” Bree teased, her eyes sparkling.
“I don’t know if you can handle me on the dance floor. I’ll wipe the floor with you if they put on the YMCA song.”
Bree snorted in an admittedly unladylike fashion. “Stop it. I’ll pay you to go ask the DJ to put that on later.”
Noah chuckled. “I would do it just to hear you laugh.” He admitted.
Mr. Miller walked up to the stage and rang a silver bell. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you so much for attending the fifth annual Families Affected by Addiction fundraising gala. We are humbled by the attendance and are so thankful for the donations that will provide additional support and resources for families who have a loved one working through or lost to addiction. Please make your way to your tables, and dinner will be served shortly. Thank you.” Polite applause rang through the space, and Noah guided Bree to their table, his hand resting gently on her back.
Dinner was phenomenal, and before she knew it the tables were being cleared, and Mr. Miller was back up on stage with the microphone. “Our speaker tonight is a world-renowned singer, two-time Grammy winner, and an avid supporter of the mission of Families Affected by Addiction. While she is no longer active in the music industry, she has been a continual advocate and supporter of our mission. Please give a warm welcome to Miss Aubrey Gray.” Mr. Miller clapped his hands together and the rest of the room joined in with enthusiastic applause.
Bree nervously rose from her spot and made her way to the stand, extra watchful of each step up to the stage, anxiety about falling on her face at about a seventy on a scale from one to ten. She made it to the podium and shook Mr. Miller’s hand before turning to the audience. She found Noah’s eyes in the crowed and he gave her a nod, the rest of the Hawthorne Security Team seated around the table, providing a silent strength she drew on as her nerves raged on.
“Thank you, Mr. Miller. I’d like to thank the Millers and the board of directors of Families Affected by Addiction for inviting me to speak. It’s an honor.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Addiction is a living and breathing disease that millions of individuals and families suffer from every day. Research says that around seven and a half million children live in households where at least one parent has an alcohol use disorder. Another two million children live in households where at least one parent has an illicit drug use disorder. We need services, not only for the men and women who struggle with addiction, but for the families as well.
”For the parents, siblings, spouses, children, or grandchildren. That’s why FABA exists. To help create a space for those who have been affected by these circumstances. These men, women, and children are resilient and brave and deserve the help we can provide. My sister…” Bree paused for a moment, wrestling to keep the tears from her eyes and her emotions under control.
“My sister suffered from an alcohol and drug addiction in her early twenties. A lot of people only saw the addiction. They didn’t see the young woman who was vibrant. She loved to laugh and to sing in the car. She loved old movies, was a super protective big sister, and had horrible taste in fashion. She was more than her addiction. Her family is more than her addiction. And that’s what we want for the families FABA helps. They are more than their loved one”s addiction. Their loved one is more than their addiction.
Let’s work together to create and maintain services to offer the possibility of support and change.” She wrapped up her speech, her attention fully focused on Noah, who stood behind his chair and clapped enthusiastically as she finished. She paused for a few pictures with the event organizers and stepped down the side of the stage her face flush with excitement and relief that the hardest part of the evening was over.
Noah scooped her into his arms and held her tightly before planting a kiss on her lips. “You were amazing.” He said quietly as the live band struck up a waltz. “Dance with me?”
“Always,” Bree answered with a smile, taking his hand and allowing him to guide her onto the dance floor. She thought he had been joking earlier about his dancing abilities, but he was surprisingly adept at sweeping her across the floor in an elegant waltz.
“You can waltz!” She said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Noah chuckled. “I told you I could dance.”
“You also mentioned the YMCA song in the same sentence, so I don’t think that counts.” Bree joked.
“I had to learn when I started attending fancy events for work. Most of the time I would be on the side like the others are tonight but occasionally we would need to intervene without causing a scene and that often involved dancing. It’s relatively socially acceptable to cut in, which helps break up tension on the dance floor, and if the tension is outside the dance floor, it is always acceptable to ask a lady for a dance. It’s a weird skill to find useful, but it’s come in handy more times than I care to admit.”
“I love that,” Bree said enthusiastically. “I can kind of waltz, but only because I was obsessed with Anastasia growing up. I wanted to waltz like Anya and Dimitri.”
“I think your reason is better,” Noah said warmly, pressing her close to him. Noah twirled her around and pulled her in for a kiss as the dance ended before escorting her to the side of the dance floor. Noah walked with Bree over to where Zach was standing in the back corner and squeezed her waist gently.
“I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll find you in a few minutes.” He said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“So…gonna take a turn around the dance floor?” Bree asked Zach, still slightly breathless and warm from the waltz.
“I don’t dance,” Zach said.
“Fair enough,” Bree noted. “Are you having a good time?”
“I mean I’m on security detail, but it seems pretty low-key so far. But you know, low risk—”
“—doesn’t mean no risk.” Bree finished. “I know, I know. Do you think—”
Her thoughts were interrupted as a low ringing sounded from Zach’s pocket. “Hold on a second.” He said, resting one hand on Aubrey’s elbow while looking at the caller ID. Bree looked over and saw a photograph of a younger Zach with a young woman whose bright blue eyes popped off the screen. They looked super happy. The name Kennedy was over the background. Zach suddenly looked stressed as he was clearly torn between answering the phone or not. The screen went black, and he started to relax, until the screen lit up again, the same low ringtone sounding around them. “Crap. I need to take this. Will you—”
“Go! I’ll be fine. I’ll just make my way over to Theo.” Bree said, gesturing straight down the line of windows to where Theo stood in the other corner talking to one of the other guests. Zach looked uncertain for a moment before she pushed him forward. “Go.” He nodded his thanks and swiped up on the call. “Kennedy? Hang on—let me go outside.” Zach walked across the ballroom toward the front doors, and Bree stayed still until he was out of sight.
She walked toward the corner where Theo was, desperately wishing she had a fan. The warmth from dancing with Noah and the large number of bodies in the ballroom left her feeling overheated and desperate for some fresh air. There was a pair of double doors that led to the side balcony. She eyed them longingly, the fresh air and fairy lights creating a romantic effect that was hard to walk by. She glanced around and saw that Theo was still engaged in conversation. So was Eli. She hadn’t seen Peter yet, but assumed he was working somewhere in the room as well.
Bree was pretty sure this was the balcony that didn’t have an exit. Instead, it led to a fenced yard, which meant it was a secure area. The only balcony that had an exit was the northeast balcony, and this one seemed…centered? She slipped through the doors and took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, cool November air. There were a few others on the balcony, and Bree turned her attention to the stars. She felt like she was in a movie—maybe The Sound of Music or an Audrey Hepburn movie. She could just imagine Noah coming out and finding her, pulling her in close to ward off the chill of the night while they gazed at the stars. Maybe he’d kiss her. Or ask her to dance under the night sky. She walked to the far corner of the balcony to give the others some privacy and to have a little space herself. It was nice to be alone. It had been too long since she was able to just exist. She let out a deep breath.
Bree wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there—though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since the same slow song was playing—when she noticed the whispers on the deck had stopped. She looked around, suddenly aware she was the only person out there. She glanced around and smacked herself mentally. Being alone on a balcony with a stalker on the loose was a horror-movie level of idiocy. Noah would be fuming.
Bree quickly gathered up her skirts and turned to walk back into the ballroom when she noticed a lone figure standing in the shadows near the stairs.
“I bet you’re not supposed to be here.” The man said in a quiet, but gleeful tone.
“It’s an open balcony.” She said, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as he took a step closer to her. Bree looked desperately toward the doors she’d come out of and subsequently wandered away from.
“That may be true,” the voice said again. “But you are not supposed to be here, are you Aubrey?”
A chill went through her even as she steeled her spine “I’m not sure what you mean. I do need to get back to the party now, so please excuse me.” She made to walk by the figure, staying out of arms reach.
“Of course.” He said, not moving from his spot by the stairs.
She walked quickly by him, peeking out of the corner of her eye. He had a scar on his right eyebrow, but otherwise was nondescript. She knew she had seen the guy before, but her fear-addled mind couldn’t seem to come up with where she knew him from. Not a great trait when a stalker was on the loose, she chided herself. She walked by the man and let out a sigh of relief. See? Nothing had happened. She knew she was being para—
She heard a light scrape against the pavement, and then there was a sharp pain in the back of her head. Her vision began to swim, and she touched the back of her head in a daze. She pulled it away and glared at the warm, sticky substance covering her hand. Blood. “This isn’t good.” She muttered, staring at the blood before feeling her world tilt sideways as everything faded to black.