28. Kent
Chapter Twenty-Eight
KENT
Liz may be wearing dozens of diamonds, but she easily shines above them all.
Though we’re not truly getting married, I can hold my head very high tonight at the ballet with her on my arm.
At least, I hope I can. I hate to admit it, but I’m still a little mixed up about going tonight.
This is the first time I’ve been to the opera house since my mum passed.
What if it makes me, I don’t know, sad? I’d like to avoid a blue, blue Christmas, which is why I’ve been avoiding it in the first place. Then I look at Liz sitting next to me in the car—her eyes sparkle unapologetically. Who am I kidding? How can I have a blue Christmas with her around?
The car pulls up to the Royal Opera House.
Immediately, my stomach twists itself up in knots.
I stare out the tinted window. The press is waiting out front.
Liz sees them too. She takes a deep breath with her hand over the diamond necklace.
I see now this isn’t going to be easy for either of us but at least we have one another.
“Shall we go?” I ask.
“Any chance we can sneak in the back?” she says.
“I’m not that famous. It’ll be fine. Just a photo or two.
” Dad will not be happy if we don’t at least get one shot for the papers.
I should be grateful that he wants me to show her off instead of grilling me about the validity of our relationship.
All of this has to be because he wants me in the top seat at Bonnaire Capital.
I place my hand gently on her knee, doing my best to assure her it’s going to be okay. I’m the one who may need assuring once we’re inside. “Follow my lead.”
“The last time you said that we were lying to your dad in his office.”
“Trust me, you’re a pro at this too.” I take her hand, and she squeezes mine hard with apprehension. We’ll make this quick.
My driver opens the door, and we step outside in the chilly December air. I bow my right arm, and Liz slips her diamond hand around it. We proceed up to the entrance until we’re surrounded by flashing lights.
“Kent! Over here!” One of the cameramen calls.
I turn to face him and wave. “Good evening.”
Then the questions start flying from the press—Is this your fiancée? Who is she? What’s your name? How much was that ring?
Liz smiles like Miss America in all the pageantry. She’s a good sport. But even the best pros have their limits, and her smile’s beginning to crack.
“We’re just here to enjoy the ballet,” I say.
“Would your mum approve of your engagement?” A loud-mouthed pap yells behind a snapping camera, and my gut goes sour. All right, we’re done. Except we can’t turn back and leave. We have to go inside, if only to sneak out of the other entrance.
Liz squeezes my arm and nudges me to walk as she sends a princess-like wave to the crowd. I hold my breath in the cold until we make it inside the brightly lit foyer with the rest of the crowd.
“Are you all right?” she asks. I open my mouth to answer her but I’m immediately interrupted by Dash’s partner, Charles.
“Kent, there you are. We were wondering if you were going to make it this year,” Charles says with Dash by his side.
Dash extends his hand, seeming slightly annoyed by his date. “Hey, mate.”
“Hey,” I manage, glancing around and feeling my chest grow tight.
Dash turns his attention to Liz. “You look lovely. What a beautiful necklace. I hope the press was kind.”
“Is there such a thing?” she says.
“Good point,” he replies, then introduces Liz and Charles, who greet one another graciously until . . .
“My Lord!” Charles says when he spots her engagement ring. “You better not have a swim, you’ll sink to the bottom with this anchor.”
Liz turns to me with a raised brow as if to say—see what I mean?
“Shall we go to the box? The others are already there,” Dash says.
“Let’s.” Liz nods and pulls me forward. It’s not until she does that I realize my legs feel like lead. With every step we take toward the family box, the tightness in my chest rises to my throat.
After we leave our coats, we make it to the threshold, and my eyes immediately go to the center seat where she sat year after year. Why do I half expect her to be there in her black velvet evening gown, arm-length gloves, and diamond earrings? But of course, she’s not. And she never will be again.
I dig my heels into the ornate red carpet, and the force yanks Liz back slightly as the others proceed ahead.
“Are you okay?” she asks, and I trade glances between her and the box.
My breath goes shallow. “Kent.” She leans in.
“Is it too much?” This is exactly what I was afraid of.
Feeling something. Some emotion. It was too much to feel when she passed, so I just didn’t.
And now I am. Her empty seat on a night like this makes it even more real.
“I don’t know.” I finally look at Liz, feeling like a sad little boy. Because that’s the feeling. I’m just sad.
“Do you want to leave?”
I stiffen my upper lip. If I can’t sit through a single performance of The Nutcracker, then what business do I have running Bonnaire Capital? At least, that’s what I imagine my father saying. And I imagine he’d be right. “No, we can stay. I’ll be all right.”
Liz offers her hand. “I’m here with you.”
I take in a deep breath, take her hand, and we step forward into the box. Together. I hardly have time to take it all in before I’m greeted with warm hugs and handshakes from Dahlia, Mick, and Beau. They greet Liz in the same manner as if we’re all family. Because to them, we are.
Mick pats my back. “I’m glad you made it.”
I let out a slow breath and glance at Liz who’s flashing her charming smile and chatting with the ladies. “Yeah.”
“Mum would be happy you made it too. She’d be so happy for you and Liz.”
I look into Mick’s blue eyes. “You think so?”
He smiles. “Of course. Liz is lovely. I think Mum would’ve really liked her.
” At his words, I’m reminded of the slew of questions outside.
I watch Liz with the others. Though she and Beau are new additions to the box, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that they both fit perfectly.
Especially when Beau makes Mick so happy. And Liz makes me, well, happy too.
“She would like Beau too,” I say.
With my brother’s words, I feel myself relax at the idea that my engagement would bring my mum joy. Then I remember, it’s not real. And I don’t know how Mum would feel about my little stunt.
Perhaps I should marry Liz. That would be quite the story to tell.
But I know myself. I don’t know if I’m capable of being the kind of husband she deserves.
And I know her enough now to know she wouldn’t give up her place in California to be in London with me.
And if I’m going to be the president of Bonnaire Capital, I need to be here.
“Ah, Kent, you made it.” Another hand comes down on my shoulder. This time from my father. I turn to find him dressed in his tux with a white scarf around his neck. Next to him is Gideon Woodsworth, one of the long-standing board of directors for Bonnaire Enterprises. “You know Gideon.”
The board member and I shake hands, and suddenly, I straighten up, and I’m back on my mission. “Good evening, Mr. Woodsworth.”
The portly man with only a few stray hairs on his head gives a shark-like smile. “If what your father says is true, you’ll be calling me Gideon soon. Which one of these lovely ladies is your fiancée?”
Right on cue, Liz turns. “That would be me.”
“Gideon, meet Elizabeth McKenna,” Dad says.
“Pleasure,” he says.
“Please, call me Liz.” She turns to my dad. “Good evening, Mr. Bonnaire.”
“Good evening, Elizabeth.” He nods, and I hold my breath.
I didn’t know Gideon would be here. It’s a good thing.
Perhaps it’s even a great thing that my father brought him here to observe us at an event where there’s hardly any conversation.
Not a lot of chances to give ourselves away. Still, my stomach clenches.
The lights dim and brighten a couple of times signaling it’s time to take our seats. I usher Liz to a seat at the front on the end as the others take theirs. I’m about to sit next to my mum’s empty chair when Dad leans in. “Did you pose for the cameras?”
I nod, feeling a little disgusted about it.
He gives me a pat on the back. “Good boy.”
I swallow hard and sit down when the house lights go dark. The music begins as the curtain opens and the dancers spring out on stage. I flick a glance at the empty chair next to me. A hard lump grows in my throat. I sniff back fresh tears of grief.
As if she can feel what I feel, Liz takes my hand and gives me a warm, loving, soothing smile. Exactly the way a good mum does. The way my mum would. How does she know? And I’m not sure if it’s because of where we are or that it’s dark in here, but it’s like my mum is smiling through her.
I’m reminded of what Liz said about connecting with her spirit here.
I place my hand on the empty chair, and something inside me knows she’s here.
Knows she’s always here. Always with me.
But most of all, something inside me knows that she still loves me, even when I’m faking a fiancée.
I squeeze Liz’s hand, grateful to have her here on a night like this.
The first half passes without incident and it’s soon intermission. With Dad and Gideon looming nearby, I’m still a little tense but much calmer with Liz here.
During intermission, Beau approaches us. “I think I have pregnant-brain because I almost forgot that Mick and I want to invite you guys to come stay at the manor with us tomorrow night for Christmas.”
Liz and I share a look, unsure it’s a good idea. I’m not entirely sure what she wants, but I do know that it would look odd if we say no, so I say, “Of course. We’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Great! Oh, and Liz, do you want to come with me to Maison Blanc in the morning?”
“For brunch?” Liz asks.
Beau giggles. “No, silly. It’s a wedding boutique. I’ll be trying on dresses.”
“Oh, umm,” My fake bride-to-be seems hesitant about visiting the wedding boutique.
“You have to come! Kate will be here too,” Dahlia chimes in.
“Yes, join us. Please!” Beau beams, taking Liz’s hand in her premarital excitement.
Liz must feel the familial, or at least, friendship pressure too because she says, “How can I say no?”
The ladies are thrilled at her response, and the house lights signal to take our seats again.
“You don’t have to go gown shopping if you don’t want to,” I say, low in her ear.
“What am I going to do? Hide out with you all day?”
“Why not?” I say, and she gives me an adoring smile. I cup her face and softly stroke her cheek. And there it is again. That sparkle in her eyes.
Not thinking twice, I lean in and peck a sweet kiss on her red lips.
She kisses me back like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like we’re not just performing for everyone.
Our gaze meets, and that tightness I’ve been feeling in my gut turns to something else.
It’s the feeling I always get when I know I’m making the right deal.
One I know will flourish into something big.
I’m already investing in Liz. Big time. But it’s just money. Would I do well to invest in something more?