15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Pulling up the spanks, I can already feel the pinch of all my rolls being smoothed out as they’re forced into place. If it weren’t for the skin-tight fit of the silk slip dress and the need for perfect tailoring, I would be foregoing this particular type of torture. With the good sense to put on the strappy red heels before I put these on, all that is left to do is get dressed.
“You ready?” Monty screams through the door, impatiently awaiting the reveal. I slide the garment over my head, pushing the light fabric away from my full face of make-up. As it shifts into position, I can already tell I look great just by the feel.
“Okay, here I come.” I dare one last glance in the mirror. Opening the door to Monty’s squeals of delight, I step out so she can get a better look. The milky pearl color of the dress stands stark against my mahogany skin, highlighting the darker shades of my tone. With my lips the same hue as my shoes, the pop of color breathes life into my otherwise natural look. I’m all set to impress the producers at this party.
“Damn girl.” She claps her hands as I spin around, letting her see all the low-cut draping in the back.
“What do you think of the hair?” Playing with the flip, I second guess the Jessica Rabbit blow out I did in lieu of my natural curls. I lift it so it falls just slightly on to my face, and push the slicked-back side over my shoulder.
“You honestly look fire. Every part,” she says beaming.
I check myself out one last time in the compact I packed in my purse. I thought the excitement of this party would distract me from my fight with Mira, but I still can’t help thinking about her as I take in the look I know she would approve of. I try not to let my grin slip while putting the mirror back in my tiny purse.
Knowing Errol should be here any minute, I take one big breath. I expected him to honk when he arrived, so I’m pleasantly surprised when a knock comes instead. Looking to Monty, her thumbs-up gives me the push I need to open the door.
Under the bright porch light, his umber skin glistens. I fight to keep my mouth from falling open. Dressed in a black suit, the white shirt underneath has three buttons undone at the top, showing his shaved chest. He is wearing a gold necklace that matches the rings on his hand, and his hair is pulled back with two pieces hanging in his face. He looks, honestly, the best I’ve ever seen him.
Finally glancing into his eyes, I’m not surprised to see they’re wide as he takes me in.
“You ready?” he coughs out as he offers his hand to help me down the stairs. Declining it, I use the railing, scared of feeling the way I do every time we touch.
He opens the car door for me, and I try not to swoon at the simple gesture.
“You look good,” I say as he slides in, no longer able to hold back the compliment. He nods, a slight smile coming to his lips as he turns the car on. I wait for him to say it back, but as the minutes stretch on, I’m met with silence instead. Turning to face him, I stare intently until he speaks.
“Thank you.”
Thank you? All he has to say is thank you? Crossing my arms against my chest, I push my lips out in what is undoubtedly a pout. We sit this way in silence for the duration of the drive. He begins to smirk halfway through, and I realize he’s enjoying this.
“Are you really just going to say thank you?” Incapable of holding my tongue, it flaps out my disdain when he pulls up outside of a hotel.
“Mhm.”
He jumps out to open the car door for me. With the guide of his hand, he leads me over to where the valets are. Warmth creeps up from where we are touching until my whole body begins to sweat. Still upset at the lack of compliment, I disengage from him as quickly as I can, stepping towards the entrance like I know where I’m going. He grabs my elbow, pulling me up short and turning me to face him.
“Farrah.”
With my chin tilted up, I look to the side of him, refusing to make eye contact. I feel the pressure on my face as he moves it to the right, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Farrah.” He’s smiling wide enough that his eyes crinkle in the corner from the push of his cheeks. My breath catches at the sight of all that being directed at me.
“You look breathtaking.” The words shine through his dark pupils, and I exhale a breath full of my relief as the words melt into my skin.
“Took you long enough.” Pulling free from his hold, I make my way through the hotel door, listening to his laughter following behind me.
As we make our way into the ballroom, we’re instantly met with people greeting us. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged with Errol as he makes the rounds, introducing me. Feeling a little like a prized horse up for sale, I try my best to smile at face after face that is thrown in my vision. Each person takes the time to look me up and down as if evaluating my worth, before declaring their thoughts. Finally getting the praise I wanted, each one seems to remark on my looks.
“So beautiful—”
“What a star—”
“Look at that smile—”
Errol adds to the fanfare by agreeing with every single comment. I don’t know if it’s the champagne or constant attention that is making me feel light-headed, but after meeting the twentieth person, I excuse myself to go and get some air.
Once out onto one of the balconies attached to the space, I lean against the railing as I look up at the sky. The light pollution makes the stars barely visible, but the moon shines down in full glory. The night breeze brushes against my bare skin, taking with it some of the sticky sweat that lines my arms. Lost in the feel of the fresh air, I close my eyes. As I inhale calm and exhale worry, I try to not let my mind wander back to Mira. Once I feel like I’ve steadied my breathing, I turn around, ready to go back inside.
Standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets blatantly staring at me is Errol. His head is tilted as his mouth lifts up slightly to the side. His midnight eyes meet mine, and I see the sparkling stars of admiration flickering in them.
“You okay?” he asks, breaking the quiet.
“Just a little overwhelmed.”
Stepping out onto the concrete, he closes the door behind him.
“I thought this would be a dream come true for you. Being worshiped like this.” He is smirking as he slides up next to me, his back to the entrance.
“It would be if I did something to deserve it, but I didn’t choose to be gorgeous.”
He chuckles a little at my admission.
“No you didn’t, but you did choose that dress.” His eyes dart down my face to the curve of my neck, before lowering to look at the outfit. I turn, making sure he gets every angle before leaning again.
“What can I say? I’m good at my job.”
He nods, his head turning to glance out at the sky. As he looks up, his stare becomes intense as his shoulders tighten. I feel the urge to make him feel better.
“You know,” I slide closer resting my elbow next to his. “You are good at your job, too.”
Rolling his eyes, it ends with him staring at me, apprehension clear in his face.
“And how would you know that? You haven’t seen me direct.”
I tap my finger against my chin as if I’m really thinking about this, while I pull at his jacket lapel.
“I have seen you take charge these past few weeks, and I’ve seen your passion in making this project work. Plus, the way you have been with me has been amazing. You’ve really put your all into making sure I’m ready.” I gesture back towards the room. “You have an ability to bring out something in these people. I can only imagine how that translates on film.”
“Is this what it’s like when you’re nice to someone?” he asks, lines appearing on his forehead.
“No.” I shake my head. “This is what it’s like when I believe in someone.”
He stops to look at me from one eye, as if scared of what he will see. Met with my adoring look, he finally lets himself really stare. My stomach flips a little when the corners of his eyes crinkle and those dimples appear.
“You ready?” With his hand outstretched in my direction, he offers to be my guide into the fray. I grab it and we re-enter the party, looking like a power couple. When he lets go, my hand tingles with the sensation of having been in his, and I fight with myself to not grab for him again when we’re bombarded with the first few people. An hour passes, and we have met almost everybody. I step away from him, ready to mingle on my own.
Going past the table full of food, I dart to a large group who looks engaged by a man in the center. I push my way into the fold, and I come face-to-face with the last person I ever expected to see here.
“Christian?”
Turning at the sound of my voice, his eyes look ready to pop out of his head at the sight of me.
“Farrah?” He freezes, his hand stretched towards me like he wants to touch and see if I’m real.
I step away just as he drops his hand back to his side. My throat closes around the air I try and breathe. The lack of oxygen forces everything to go blurry, as everyone but him disappears from my sight.
“Y-you—” I can barely get the words out.
“Farrah.” His voice, like butter on a pan, sizzles in my ear, popping me out of the haze. Just like that, the room reappears, and I’m standing there, boiling with rage.
“You son of a bitch!” I bellow, drawing the attention of the people surrounding us.
He looks around, realizing the scene I’m about to make, and leans over to whisper,
“Farrah, please can we—”
Reaching for my arm again, he comes up short as I snatch it out of his way and point in his direction.
“No!” My volume increases significantly with the word.
Seeing I’m not going to let him silence me, he steps through the group and beelines for the door. I’m hot on his heels, determined not to let him out of my sight. We reach the hallway, and he finally stops and turns towards me.
Every part of him seems to be frowning, from his eyes to his brows as he takes me in. Struck with the reality that I’m finally seeing him in person, I examine him too. Searching for any signs that our ending has wrecked him as well, I look for a hole that matches my own. When I don’t see the same pain radiating in his eyes, I have to concede that maybe there isn’t one.
“How dare you.” I fight with the tears threatening to fall. “How dare you not call me back. How dare you not explain yourself. How. Dare. You.” Jamming my finger into his chest, I skewer him with my words. “You owed me at least that as your friend, let alone the woman you claimed to love.”
“Please can we not do this here?” He looks past my shoulder at the still open door and the faces likely gathering with questions about the display.
I don’t care. Let them watch as we finally have it out the way we should have months ago.
“No, we are doing this now.”
He sighs, lowering his eyes to mine, his hand flexing as he stops himself from grabbing me.
“Please Farrah, can we please have an actual conversation tomorrow?” Looking behind me once again, his shoulders stiffen when footsteps echo in our direction.
“What’s going on here?” Errol asks, stepping into the hall. He closes the door behind us, before he steps to my side. Even though I’m looking at him his eyes are stuck on Christian, a hard expression lining his face.
“Can we have a minute?” Christian’s voice sounds lighter and friendlier. He’s putting on a show for who he hopes is a potential future client.
“No.” Errol steps in front of me.
I turn back to look at Christian just as his smile drops from his face. Looking between me and Errol, he looks bothered as he takes us in together.
“I don’t know who you are, but this doesn’t concern you.” Christian’s tone has taken on a sharp edge, his shoulders pulled tight as he straightens to his full height.
Looking slightly amused, Errol steps up until they are almost face-to-face.
Seeing things about to take a turn, I move in between them.
“Errol, it’s fine. I just need to talk to him for a moment.”
Errol shifts so he can look me in the eyes, asking if I’ll be okay. I try to put him at ease, but I grimace, the raw hurt getting harder to hide.
“I’ll be just on the other side of that door, okay,” he says to both of us, threatening Christian while comforting me at the same time. Before he goes back inside, he throws one more look over his shoulder at me.
While I’m looking at Errol, Christian takes the opportunity to grab hold of my hand drawing my attention.
“I don’t want to do this here.” He says softly rubbing his thumb against my palm. “Let’s meet up tomorrow, we can discuss it all then.”
“How am I supposed to believe you’ll show up?” I pull my hand away, stepping back so there’s more distance between us.
His eyes widen at my question.
“I promise.”
“We know what your promises are worth.” Spite paints the words in vengeful colors. I turn to go back to the party, looking over my shoulder one last time. He flinches at my glare. “I’ll text you my address. You better show up.” Not looking to see if he agrees, I re-enter the room.
Everyone is looking at me, but this time their expressions are different. I search for Errol, and find him directly to my left, right where he said he would be.
“I’m sorry.” I feel shame heating my skin. “I was unprofessional and I’m sorry. I won’t ever do something like that again. It’s just—” I try to find the words to express what happened in my chest at the sight of Christian, but come up short.
“Are you okay?” He bypasses the ugly truth of my behavior, instead focused on my wellbeing. I shake my head, trying and failing at not looking pathetic.
“Okay, let’s go.” He guides me back towards the door.
“What about the party?” I try to put on a brave face.
“It doesn’t matter.” I gaze into his eyes and feel like, for a moment, maybe to him, I do. He smiles, patting my arm before he leads me back to the entrance and asks the valet to get the car.