Alive: The Ghost of Cambria - Book One

Chapter Twelve

No matter how enchanting the spot was, Kristen couldn't help but feel nervous. She couldn't remember when she'd felt so out of control.

The main entrance to Hearst Castle was a series of wide stone stairways that led up from the driveway to the first of several terraced levels. Ascending the route, Kristen felt insane climbing them in heels, but Ryan soon brought them to a designated reception spot for an event happening on the 'Unfinished North Terrace.' The massive space was filled with dozens of round sit-downs and standing cocktail tables covered in white linen. There were also white leather sofas scattered thought out the terrace to create small areas for people to intimately socialize away from their dinner seating. Each element was set upon an expanse of white flooring and bathed in purple theatrical lighting that cast an ethereal glow upon the whole. At the center, was a black and white checkerboard dance floor, already covered with couples. A roaring jazz band moved the dancers' feet from atop a small stage.

Stopping at the check-in desk, they waited in line behind a few other arriving guests.

"Is this a black tie party?" Kristen whispered with concern in Ryan's ear as she looked at his open collar.

He scanned the party for a moment and whispered back with a sly smile, "I believe so. But don't worry, I will be fine."

Kristen watched the outdoor room for a hundred details that she couldn't commit to memory. What she understood from the fragments she was able to retain was that this was an assemblage of reasonably well-to-do people. Perhaps not so well-to-do that they felt at home in the absurdly wealthy surroundings of the castle, but then, maybe they were.

"Ryan Hoffman," he told the receptionist, who found his name on her list and quickly spoke it into the small walkie-talkie in her hand.

In moments, a handsome older man walked up to the couple and extended his hand to Ryan, pulling him in close to provide an enthusiastic hug.

"I'm so excited you're here," the enigmatic man told Ryan with great satisfaction. At least twenty years older, the man beamed as if the two were old friends.

"This all looks incredible, John," said Ryan. "You really have out-done yourselves. Let me introduce you to my date. This is Kristen Cole. Kristen, this is John Steffey - he's the curator of Hearst Castle."

"Nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand with a smile.

"Welcome, Kristen," Steffey said with a slight southern accent, receiving the woman with unusual affection in his eyes. "We're so happy to have you both here tonight. Let me take you to your seats."

Steffey walked through the reception as if he knew precisely where among the sea of tables he was taking them to. As they snaked around the room, they finally came to a table that was already full but for three empty seats. Kristen presumed the table was Steffey's own.

"Everyone, this is Ryan Hoffman, who I told you about, and his friend Kristen Cole," said John loudly over the music that blared from across the dance floor.

One by one, Steffey walked around the table to introduce them to people whose names Kirsten immediately forgot. When Steffey came to the last people at the table, a middle-aged man and woman, the site of them shocked Kristen into a look of doe-eyed confusion.

"And this is Gavin Newsom and the First Lady, Jennifer," John said with almost theatrical reverence.

From his chair, Newsom extended his hand to Ryan and said words of greeting that Kristen couldn't hear. The man's wife simply smiled at her and nodded.

When, at last, they sat down, Kristen came face to face with a sign that read, 'Governor's Table.' A peal of laughter came from her that went unnoticed by those around them, the sound lost under the thunder of the band.