Chapter 45
Cienna
“Oh my…” The air whooshed from my lungs as I took in the beautifully decorated ballroom.
It was breathtaking in an expert Pinterest sort of way. Twinkly strings and strands of ivy climbed the walls. The ceiling was eclipsed with tulle in magenta, violet, and indigo. Lights created a night sky, with streams of stars hanging down above the dance floor.
Floral centerpieces with little stars scattered among them dotted the room.
Long tables with shimmery linens lined the back wall, with snacks and desserts displayed elegantly.
Crystal bowls that reminded me of something displayed in Swarovski’s mall windows were filled with a mix of Goldfish, Cheez-Its, and pretzels, the finest of foods to match the finest serveware.
Abi would never, ever eat from that bowl because, in her eyes, it was blasphemy for any other snacks to touch her precious Goldfish.
They’d both be here tonight. Soon, actually, with Reed being the co-lead on this committee.
My eyes stung, my cheeks felt heavy, and my body was numb.
Soon, all of the hustle and bustle of planning and checking off boxes would slow down, and all of those feelings, barely held at bay, would rush in.
“Ms. Vilotta!” Presley Trumaine, Jill’s youngest, beamed at me as she bounced on her toes. She was dressed in a sparkly dress in Tiffany blue, with faux wrap and flutter sleeves.
“Look at you! Your dress is beautiful, and you’re so tall! You’re going to be taller than me soon.”
She giggled, braces flashing through her smile.
I adored this child, despite her mother’s clear dislike for me.
She was in my kindergarten class a few years back, and she had a love for reading that made my teacher heart sing.
There was practically a Presley Trumaine section in the school’s library with books I’d had our librarian order with her in mind.
Presley nearly bounced out of her short, chunked slingback heels. “I’m so excited. The DJ has every single Taylor Swift song!”
“Swifties unite.” I lifted my hand like the dork I am, ready to fist-bump with a fourth grader.
Presley was too excited to cringe, nearly flying out of her little heels as her fist met mine.
Her beaded crossbody purse swung around with each of her movements, and I smiled at the book I saw peeking out.
I pointed at her bag, seeing the top of a title page for a book series I started her on. “I see you brought backup in case the DJ doesn’t live up to your expectations?”
A puffy little laugh sounded from my side as Jill approached. She placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “This one always has a book attached to her.”
Presley pulled the book from her purse, showing me the title. “I’m already on the third book in the series you gave me. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I finish it because the next book doesn’t come out until I’m in fifth grade.” That must seem like eons from now to a fourth grader.
“I had the librarian order a new similar series, knowing you’d finish that one fast.”
Presley beamed, and Jill looked to me, confused. “You gave Presley those books?”
“Oh yes, I know how much she loves to read, so I’ve been making sure she has plenty at her fingertips.”
Jill’s face molded into features I’d never seen on her before. It was a little shocking to see what felt like admiration in her eyes. Toward me? Then her brows scrunched in, and she asked Presley, “Have you tried the cupcakes?”
Presley shook her head, and her eyes widened. “There are cupcakes?” Then she darted off, heels clanking and dress swishing as she went on the hunt for her early-bird sweets.
“Thank you for supporting Presley’s love for reading. I didn’t realize you had been giving her those books all this time.” Her voice was soft.
“Of course. Presley is a great kid and has always been such a passionate reader. She makes it easy to invest in that.”
“I’m just surprised you acknowledged her reading skills,” Jill mumbled.
“I’m sorry?” I asked for clarification, literally having no idea what she meant by that.
“When she was in your class, you yanked her from the top reading group. She was crushed.”
I went to retort, but my jaw slackened because I had no words. Tracing back years, I tried to recall what reading groups looked like for Presley’s class. Then it clicked.
“Jill. I moved Presley out of the top group because she was already reading well beyond that level and would spend her time chatting with friends instead of reading.” Surely this was something we would have discussed at a parent-teacher conference at some point.
Then it dawned on me. Jill opted out of conferences after our initial meeting. Was that why?
“Oh, I see.” Jill looked down at her feet, another first. I’d only ever seen her with her head held high.
“Well, I apologize for that assumption. If I had known you were the one giving Presley books, encouraging her to read, I would have expressed my appreciation sooner.” She cleared her throat.
“Those books have gotten her through a tough time. The divorce hasn’t been easy, and I know if she didn’t have her books to escape to, it’d be much harder for her.
” Jill reached out a hand and gently touched my arm.
“Thank you, Cici. Truly.” She smirked. “Maybe I see why you’re the primary candidate for principal after all. ”
What. Is. This. Life? Jill Trumaine complimented me. Thanked me. Apologized to me. All this time, her petty attitude and clear disdain for me was because she thought I hadn’t supported her daughter’s reading, when I was, in fact, her number one book bestie.
I rummaged for words to say to Jill, but before I could speak, a “Test, test” sounded from a microphone across the room. Reed stood there with the DJ we’d hired, slapping him on the back with a smile that would melt me if it had shot my way.
He was wearing a casual suit, deliciously tailored to hit his body in all the right places. I tried not to ogle his profile. The few glances I sent his way had me tingling, remembering how that body felt sleeping next to mine. How right it felt when our bodies melded together.
Jill leaned in toward me. “He cleans up nicely, doesn’t he?
” Her voice was full of libido, making me cringe internally—and possibly externally.
I didn’t turn her way, knowing my face might show my dislike at her ogling.
“Not that he needs to clean up to look scrumptious.” She smacked her lips and hummed.
I opened my mouth but was unable to conjure any other response but “Stop eye fucking my man.” But he wasn’t mine, and that reminder made my stomach roll.
Rather than a reply, she got nothing other than me stepping away.
“I’m going to go check on the baker. She should be arriving with the cake any minute now. ”
Instead, I made my way outside, plopped on a bench, crossed my legs, and let my head drop. I set my phone in my lap, attempting to look like I was scrolling, but really, I was just trying to regain some control over my feelings.
Footsteps approached, and I tapped my phone screen so I wouldn’t be caught with it black.
Reed stepped into view, and I held my breath as he stopped in front of me.
His hands jammed into his pockets, and he stood quietly for a moment.
Part of me hoped my presence had an effect on him, any kind of effect, like he’d unknowingly had on me just by smiling in someone’s direction across the room.
He cleared his throat and swayed from his toes to his heels as he spoke. “Thank you again for your help yesterday.”
I had no idea what he could possibly be thanking me for, so I looked up to meet his warm, genuine gaze. The last I saw it, there was a mixture of hurt and void, and I didn’t realize that, in just a few days, I could miss the way his eyes made me feel.
“You gave me that clue about where to find Abigail’s dress, and I appreciate it.” He cleared his throat again, continuing, “I took her to Lovely Ladies.”
I’d never heard anyone say the words Lovely and Ladies with such reproach. The corners of my mouth tugged, wanting to smile.
“I barely got out of there alive, but she has a dress, and she’s very pleased with it.”
“Good.” It was all I could muster without letting loose the dam holding back a sea of emotions.
“Yeah, she really looks lovely.” He used air quotes and gave the most gag-worthy face with the word lovely, and I cracked, smiling genuinely.
Then I had to swallow down the feelings that tickled in my throat, rising from my chest, swelling and tightening—a war of pride and love, with grief and longing.
He aimed one of his gorgeous grins my way, but his eyes didn’t carry the mischief that normally matched.
Then he reached a hand behind his neck, rubbing.
His bicep squeezed from behind his shirt.
I remembered playfully licking and nibbling at that beautiful muscle.
His lips tightened again, and I pictured how they felt on my body, visions of how we made love. How I felt… loved.
“You look beautiful, Cienna.”
I looked down at my lap, squeezing my eyes shut to avoid tears that wanted so badly to shed.
“Thank you.” My voice was shaky, and I was moments away from breaking down.
I stood promptly, ready to excuse myself.
Clearly, the air I was getting out here was becoming suffocating.
I needed to find air that he wasn’t sharing with me, and a mirror so I could reapply this fucking lying-ass waterproof mascara.
“Uncle Reeeeed.” Clacky little sounds beat against the concrete.
There’d never been a time that Abi’s sweet little voice filled me with dread.
Until that very moment. I wouldn’t be able to control this.
This whole little impending interaction.
Her with him, and me. Dress shoes and dresses and twinkle lights. I couldn’t do it.