Chapter 35 Colt
Colt
“You think they’re almost done?” Beau asks his dad, the three of us standing in the foyer of their house, waiting for Jill and Stella to come downstairs.
David glances at his watch. “We aren’t running late,” David replies.
“I’m never late, dear,” Jill interjects, appearing at the top of the staircase. She’s wearing a long black dress with flowing sleeves, her hair pinned up elegantly.
“You look beautiful,” David tells her, meeting her at the bottom step and taking her hand. He kisses her cheek softly, and I grin even as Beau rolls his eyes. His parents are stupidly in love, and he’s always teasing them about how disgusting they are.
“My boys, you look very handsome,” Jill says, coming over to straighten Beau’s bow tie.
“Thanks, Mom,” Beau responds, smiling despite trying his best to pretend he doesn’t enjoy this.
David holds up Jill’s coat for her, helping her into it before they head out to the limousine they’ve rented us for the night.
Movement at the top of the stairs has me turning my head, anticipating Stella, but it’s only the hair and make-up artist Jill hired for the two of them. She loves to go all-out for this gala, saying it will always be the most important thing she does all year.
Beau steps up to help the woman get her rolling case down the stairs while I hold the front door open for her. “Have fun tonight!” she offers as she departs, and we wave as she gets into her car.
The sound of heels clacking on the staircase draws my gaze back inside, and my heart stops in my chest as a goddess descends.
Stella is glowing, shining in rich forest green and diamonds. I’m not even sure I blink as she makes her way down to me.
She smiles shyly when she reaches the bottom, and I take her hand. “You’re stunning,” I whisper, unable to articulate how incredible she truly looks in this moment.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she quips in response, smoothing her other hand down the sleeve of my jacket. “Formal looks good on you.”
Her hair is done up in an elaborate updo, with a few strands of hair left framing her face, resting against her cheekbones.
My eyes slide over the way the dress conforms perfectly around her body, as if it were made especially for her.
The color reflects the green of her eyes so profoundly that they appear luminescent.
A car horn sounds from outside, ordering us to hurry before we’re late.
There’s a red carpet rolled out, leading to the front entrance of the venue: a large, historic, five-star hotel. Lining one side of the carpet is a large printed backdrop with the logo of the foundation hosting the gala—the Worthington Foundation—that people are stopping to take photos in front of.
“Wow. This is seriously fancy.” Stella takes in our surroundings as we stand in line for a photo. Her eyes are bright with wonder.
“What did I tell you? Rich people love an excuse to dress up.” I hug her to my side, planting a kiss on her head.
After our photo gets snapped, we make our way inside.
The gala is being hosted in the “conservatory” of the hotel, which is a large circular room with a glass-domed ceiling; all of the stars are visible tonight.
Marble pillars ring the room; both regular dinner tables and standing cocktail tables are erected around the perimeter, draped in white cloths and elaborate centerpieces.
The center of the room is left open for dancing and mingling later on.
A stage sits on one side of the room, along with a string quartet accompanied by a piano, and an open bar is on the other side.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Beau announces to us, stepping around my back to make his way to the bar.
“Do you ever feel like he drinks… a lot?” Stella asks.
“It’s crossed my mind,” I answer honestly. “It’s how he copes with the idea of having fun—just get drunk enough to ignore the guilt. I know it’s not healthy, but he’s not an easy person to reason with sometimes.”
Stella frowns, obviously not happy with my response, but also aware that there’s nothing we can do for Beau if he isn’t willing to help himself.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go find our seats. Don’t let it get to you; we’re going to have a good night.”
We find our name cards on a table near the stage. The Warrens must have made a large donation this year to be sitting this close.
“This food is amazing!” Stella claims, taking another bite of roasted vegetables. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of her the entire evening. I take every opportunity to touch her, whether that be brushing her leg with mine under the table or resting a hand on her thigh.
When the speeches and acknowledgments begin, we turn to face the stage, but my attention remains on the girl beside me. Seeing her all dressed up has me imagining her in a different gown, walking down the aisle toward me. The picture in my mind is so clear, I almost tear up as if it’s real.
“…and now, I would like to invite my good friend and colleague, Jill Warren, up to say a few words.” I’m pulled from my daydream as Beau’s mother stands up and walks toward the stage. She’s never given a speech at one of these galas before.
“Thank you, Anthony,” Jill says as she takes the place behind the podium that Mr. Worthington just vacated. She smiles out at the crowd, introducing herself, beautiful and serene.
“I have been a long-time believer in the work that this foundation does. For the last fifteen years, I have donated to the cause this family fights for.
“Everyone in this room knows someone who has struggled, either physically with a cancer diagnosis, or mentally, or both. Anthony started this foundation in memorial to his late wife, and I became a member when my best friend, the beautiful Delilah Rose Crosby, was diagnosed. Losing such a wonderful soul from this world was one of the hardest things I’ve endured.
” Jill meets my gaze, her eyes sad, but also strong, proud. Stella squeezes my hand in solidarity.
“In fact, the only thing I think has been harder than losing my best friend was losing my daughter. Many of you know my family, and with that also comes knowing about what happened to our daughter, Gracie. For those of you who don’t know, my Gracie went missing five years ago.
With that loss, and every day following without closure, came a tide of mental anguish my family has had to endure.
“This year, my family has had an especially hard year mentally, and I’ll spare you the details. But all of this leads me to the point of Anthony inviting me up here tonight.
“We, being my husband and I, have decided to partner with the Worthington Foundation to create an organization whose mission is to raise money and fight for mental health and grief navigation opportunities. We have named our newfound organization the Crosby-Grace Foundation, in loving memory of my beautiful best friend and my beautiful daughter.”