Chapter Fourteen. Ember #3
Shaking my head, I stare at myself. The black mermaid-style dress fits my curves like the proverbial glove, gliding over each one like a level-ten clinger lover.
The sweetheart neckline draws eyes to my generous breasts and the tiered bottom of the dress flares from my knees in a glorious display of silken obsidian feathers.
I twist to the side, and the straps wrap over my shoulders and under my arms, leaving my entire back bare down to the small of it.
The light of the room bounces off the black sequins covering the entire dress, and it’s almost as if I glow and burn with a dark fire with each movement.
Only the toe of my glass stiletto peeps from underneath the feathered hem—an identical replica of my mother’s wedding shoes that I had designed years ago but have never worn.
Black polish and tiny diamonds decorate my nails and toenails, and my blond hair brushes my shoulders in a ruthlessly straight sheet.
A part down the middle has the strands framing my face, emphasizing the flawless beat the makeup artist applied.
Diamonds dangle from my ears and circle my throat and wrist.
I’m beautiful.
Sadness trickles through me, and I blink against the sting in my eyes.
A memory of my mother sitting at the vanity in her bedroom, putting on her makeup, preparing for a night out with Marcus, floats in front of my eyes.
She’d loved dressing up. Loved getting her dark blond hair styled and her nails done.
Kimberly Cross would’ve probably been standing here, dabbing at her eyes, delighted and proud to see me looking just like her.
She should’ve been here. God, I wish she were.
Inhaling deeply, I turn back around and give Bennie and Sheri another smile—tremulous but genuine.
“Thank you both.” The words seem inadequate for the gift they’ve given me. I’m walking into the lion’s den tonight, and they’ve clothed me in impenetrable, gorgeous armor.
Maybe they read the immensity of what I’m unable to express because Sheri grins widely and Bennie crosses the short space separating us and pulls me into a short but tight embrace.
“You’re welcome,” she says, releasing me. “Now you know if we didn’t come correct, Jaq would be all over my ass. And not in a way I’d enjoy.”
Sheri snickers and I scrunch up my nose, but then laugh.
A knock sounds on the door before it opens seconds later. Jaq appears in the gap. Their eyes widen, further gassing me up.
“Gotdamn, Ember.”
“Right?” Bennie bumps Sheri’s shoulder. “Bad bitch walking.”
“That man is going to crash out behind you,” Jaq says, shaking their head as if they’re sympathetic. “I almost feel sorry for him.”
Perla slips by Jaq with a snort. “Not. He deserves all of this”—she sweeps a hand up and down my body—“coming for him. And I, for one, am utterly delighted.”
“That part.” Bennie points a finger at Perla.
Chuckling both at their girl-power moment and to cover my nerves, I walk over to the dresser and grab my matching clutch purse.
Moments later, I exit the apartment and descend the stairs with my entourage behind me.
More than ever, I feel like I’m headed to prom with family seeing me off.
All that’s missing is an overprotective fath—
“Sam.” I jerk to a stop at the bottom of the steps, splaying my fingers wide over my chest and thudding heart. I’m staring at my godfather, outfitted in a tuxedo, but I’m still not comprehending that he’s here. And why he’s here. “What are you doing here?”
He moves from beside Gus and approaches me, a wistful smile curving his mouth. Sadness flickers in his eyes, and in that instant, I know he’s thinking about my mother.
“You look just like her,” he whispers, confirming my suspicion. Taking my hand in his, he guides me off the last step and presses the backs of my fingers to his cheek. “Ember, sweetheart, you’re beautiful, and Kim would be so proud.”
“Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate that. I needed to hear that,” I murmur.
I step into him, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tight. And when his arms close around me, it’s almost like receiving a hug from my mom.
“Anytime, Em.” Clearing his throat, he steps back and blinks fast, then clears his throat again. “I have something for you. I hope you don’t mind?” he asks, stepping closer and reaching behind my neck.
He pauses, giving me the opportunity to object, but I don’t.
Nodding, he removes the necklace I’m wearing and passes it to Gus.
Then he reaches inside his coat and removes another one.
I nearly gasp at its loveliness. The choker is comprised of brilliant diamonds and emeralds, and looks like something that belongs behind a glass case in a museum, not around my throat.
“It’s your mother’s,” he says, moving behind me and placing it around my neck.
Astonishment, love, and threads of sadness well inside me, and with trembling fingers, I brush a caress over the jewelry.
“Before she died, Kim asked me to put this aside for you. She left it up to me to choose the occasion, but she was adamant about it being a happy or meaningful one. Your father gifted her this on the night of their engagement, so I thought it was fitting.” He circles me once more to stand in front of me.
His dark eyes glisten, and admiration and love shine through the unshed tears. “Perfect.”
“Thank you, Sam,” I rasp. Yes, the jewelry originally came from Marcus, but that doesn’t diminish the beauty and power of the gift. She thought of me, loved me. And once more, it’s as if my mother is standing here with me.
“You’re welcome.” He picks up my hand, pats it, then loops my arm through his. He turns me toward the front door. “To answer your question about why I’m here, I’m escorting my goddaughter to the ball. Your carriage awaits, sweetheart.”
Confusion still swirls inside of me, because how did he know to come here?
Who contacted him? But one glance at Gus, Perla, and Jaq standing next to the open front door wearing big, goofy smiles, their arms around each other, and those questions are answered.
They have really come through for me, and even with all my degrees and years of education, there aren’t enough words to thank them or express how much their generosity and affection have meant to me.
Guiding me out the door, Sam leads me down the steps, but I draw up short again at the sight of the vehicle parked in the driveway. Shock has me damn near weaving on my glass stiletto heels.
The mint-green Aston Martin Valkyrie Spider sits there like a monarch of automobiles. It should with a four-million-dollar price tag. Oh no … wait. I drag my gaze from it to Sam.
“Sam, you didn’t … That’s not … You can’t…”
He gives a low laugh, gently tugging me toward the vehicle.
“Yes, I did buy the Valkyrie Spider a month ago but had no intention of ever taking it on the road. But when Gus called and informed me that you didn’t have an escort to your own engagement ball, I figured there wasn’t an occasion more momentous than this one or a passenger more important than tonight and you.
So tonight, this is your carriage to the ball.
” He bows and sweeps his arm out with a broad smile.
His smile is contagious, and I move forward, still stunned over the turn this evening—this entire day—has taken.
Once I’m settled inside, Sam rounds the hood and climbs in.
When he starts the car, the engine purrs and he looks over at me, beaming like an eleven-year-old boy who just found his new toy.
It’s endearing and amusing—and thinking back, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam this carefree.
Not even when Mom was alive. But then again, how can you be carefree when you’re in love with your best friend’s wife?
“Did you ever tell her?” I ask Sam as we coast down the PCH toward the main street. The night sky, though clouded by smog, is still beautiful, as is the ocean stretching out on the other side of us, its salty, fresh scent its own perfume.
He glances over at me, eyebrows hiked high. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you ever tell Mom that you loved her?”
Silence fills the interior, almost drowning out the old-school R you had to be aware he wasn’t faithful.
And you were around them as a couple enough to also know that they weren’t happy.
At least Mom wasn’t. Even as a kid, I could tell that, so I can’t imagine how you’d miss it.
Why didn’t you tell her and give her the happiness she deserved?
Even if it was the last couple of years of her life? ”
There’s a long pause, and once more I’m left wondering if he’s going to reply. Finally, he sighs, and the exhale is weighty with … something. Everything.
“For one reason—your mother loved Marcus. Until her last breath, she loved him. But if she’d given me one clue, one iota of a sign that her love had lessened, I would’ve confessed it all and taken my chance.
Kim”—he shakes his head, and I catch the small quirk at the corner of his mouth—“she was unique, special. And not just because of her beauty. She was kind, sincere, honest, generous, loyal to a fault. Once she loved someone, it would take an act of God for her to abandon them. And though Marcus wasn’t God, he did give you to her.
And for that, she would always remain indebted to him. Would always love him.”
“And he took advantage of that love.”