18
We entered the colossal, brightly lit conservatory, which was strewn with fountains, and though in no need of additional beauty, was draped in white flowers. The floor was a puzzle of black and white tiles, which may have coincidentally lent itself to the theme, but I suspected the more likely probability that they had the floor replaced for the event.
Haven was with his family on a platform set to one side of the main room, the four of them standing in front of a backdrop displaying the logo for the fundraiser. They greeted guests, posed for pictures and answered questions asked by the very limited and specific media permitted to attend.
It was the first time I witnessed Haven in his reputed position, and he was entirely impressive. He appeared as natural in the spotlight as most people did breathing. And though he wasn't by any means overdressed, or making any attempt to stand out, somehow his classic elegance and style managed to make every other man in the room look as though they were caught in a windstorm on their way here.
Nana and I paused just inside the threshold for a moment before fully committing ourselves to an entrance. Within a few steps, Nana found a reflective surface so she could admire herself once more, and I was granted an opportunity to watch Haven without being seen.
His smile was engaging, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was definitely the practiced version and not the one I had been allowed the sight of so frequently. I wondered what I could ever do to make someone like him even look twice in my direction. Hordes of women, old and young, were fawning over him. They were polite to Darling, Harlan and Weston as well, but Haven made them absolutely giddy.
Nana's steps were short and unhurried, so we toddled into the room at a pace that made me feel more grateful than slowed down. I practiced for only about forty five minutes in my new shoes and had yet to master them completely, particularly while wearing a dress which, although beautiful and surprisingly comfortable, was tricky to maneuver in such heels with lace so precariously near them.
We progressed toward the cluster of Casey-family fever that was overtaking the crowd, and although the ribbon of guests flowing into the gala was steady, we noticeably arrived among the latecomers. I wondered whether it was out of consideration that Haven had us show up when we wouldn't be crushed by a crowd, or if he wanted to make sure he could mingle with the people he preferred before being obligated to associate with the B and C list-ers.
He remained on the platform with the other members of his family, checking his watch impatiently before casting an eye over the room. Eventually his gaze travelled toward the entryway where my grandmother and I were still walking, completely passing over us both. We were hidden in a palette of black and white.
Greenleigh was stationed at the far door, and Haven caught his eye. Greenleigh nodded toward where Nana and I were walking, and Haven followed his gaze. He scanned by again before his eyes snapped back to rest on my face, having discerned us from the general mass of two-toned attire.
His more natural smile, the one I knew, suddenly returned when our eyes met. For an instant I could see no one but him.
The change in his expression sent cameras off like gunfire in his direction, and, just seconds later, at me. I felt like I should turn promptly around and crawl back under the rock I slid out from under, but his expression drew me to him.
Darling's attention was caught by the sudden flutter of cameras, and followed Haven's stare, seeing me. She waved and smiled before turning to Weston, and whispered something in his ear. By the time we took three steps further, Weston was making a gracious announcement to the crowd welcoming them, inviting them to enjoy their evening, and to remember that any donations made this evening were for a good cause and were tax deductible. I doubted if he ever learned what that cause might be.
The picturesque foursome was then released from their duties for the moment, and Haven paused only to shake hands with someone before striding toward Nana and me. I had to fight an impulse to run to him by reminding myself that I was due an explanation about his actions toward my brother.
The majority of photographers followed him so he stopped just a few feet away, offering one arm to my grandmother, and after she accepted it, offered the other to me. I noticed, among the small-ish group of media present, that the man from the park who stole a picture of the two of us was one of them.
"What's he doing here?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth and holding on to the nervous smile I was trying to hide behind. The photographer, aware of my uncomfortable stare, lowered his camera and nodded at me before departing for the other end of the room.
"Who? Rob? Yeah, I hired him. I told you I was going to find him, didn't I? What did you think I'd do, have him stuffed in my trunk?" He smiled his effortless smile, and winked at a blonde in a skin-tight white dress passing by. "I thought about it, but my trunk is way too small." He chuckled.
Haven was undoubtedly in his element, absolutely undisturbed by the surroundings or the people. "Mrs. Theodore," he said, "my mother is dying to see you, would you forgive me for taking you to her before offering refreshment?"
"By all means, dear." Nana said, "I know she'll be busy tonight so I'm sure she'd like to get all the necessary civilities out of the way so she can enjoy herself."
"Not at all, she's been looking forward to seeing you. I had you come a little later so you wouldn't have to wrestle the first mob to arrive, but she would have preferred it, I'm sure, if you had been here early so she could consult with your flawless advice." He smiled, plainly pleased with the way she looked so dotingly at him, her Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality putting on its Sunday best.
Darling, having removed herself from another conversation, floated over to us then, her hands held out to my grandmother. "Rose, I'm so happy to see you! How have you been? You look fabulous." She exchanged kisses on each cheek with Nana, and continued without waiting for her reply. "We kept our little party in town this year in the hopes that you would be able to make it! We just had to have you and Tabitha come, and I know how you dislike travel. How do you like the place? We flew in more than forty thousand roses from Vienna, don't you love them? The fountains have all been repaired and restored too, and we hope the owners are able to make this room more useful after tonight. My Harlan went to great pains to make sure it was presentable and functional. This space and the main house were designed by John Russell Pope, you know. And how are you, Tabitha, you grow prettier each time I see you. Just look at that dress! Did you see Michelle today? She said she was on her way to you when she left me, and I can see her talents are just never exhausted. I'm determined to make her famous, you know, she has more of a knack for design in her little finger than most of the hacks I've ever met. And where are these shoes she's been talking about? She was like a proud mother over those shoes." I revealed my foot from beneath my dress and she gasped indulgently "Oh, she was right! Those are just beautiful, I can't wait to see what they bring. Did I ever thank you for helping us tonight? I'm forever in your debt. Oh, there's Harlan. I don't think you've met him yet, have you Tabitha?" She waved in the direction of an attractive man in his late fifties, who looked like a time-warp of Haven. He approached, smiling Haven's same smile, and kissed my grandmother's cheek.
"Rose, I haven't seen you in ages. How are you?"
Nana patted his arm affectionately and returned his smile. "I'm fine dear, just fine. You're handsome as ever."
"Well I don't know about that." He glanced at me, and then to Darling.
"This is Tabitha, Harlan. Tabitha Bridian, Charlie's daughter. You remember Charlie, don't you?"
"Of course, it's great to finally meet you Tabitha." His smile grew, and I could see the genuine kindness in his eyes that I frequently found in Havens. I barely had time to murmur an answer before someone behind him reclaimed his attention and he excused himself.
"I almost forgot," Darling continued seamlessly, "I owe you another thanks, Tabitha, for getting rid of that awful girl."
"What awful girl?" I asked, picturing Mira but unconscious of how I could have managed to get rid of anybody.
"Oregon. No, Phoenix."
"Georgia." Haven and I supplied simultaneously.
"That's the one."
"But I didn't do anything to Georgia," I disclaimed, "I wouldn't-"
"Whatever it was, I'm grateful. She's foisted herself onto the Malory kid now, and I say good riddance. That girl was a pill. Oh Haven, I almost forgot you were there." Darling said. "How are you honey? Why are you just standing around? Ask Tabitha to dance already. She's probably bored to tears standing here with us." She smiled and wrinkled her nose.
"I was waiting for you to take a breath, Mother." He smiled, "But I wasn't willing to wait much longer."
"I'm happy to hear it. Now off with you so Rose and I can go find ourselves something appropriate to drink." She put her arm through Nana's and the two of them trotted off in the direction of a server bearing a tray of champagne and strawberries.
Haven turned to me then, a distinct gleam in his eye. "Would you dance with me?"
"Well since you're probably the only other person here willing to speak to me, I don't see why not." I admitted, not considering what he might think. A look of amusement hovered over his mouth before he took my hand in his and swept me away to where a very large, overly bejeweled woman in a pitch black gown stood in front of a band, singing To Make You Feel My Love. He held my hand against his chest, and I could feel his heart beating hard and steady. His other arm held my waist, not budging even in front of the large portion of friends, family, and news outlets.
Just as the last time I danced with Haven, I felt like he was doing all the work for me. My feet moved with his, but I felt like I was suspended above the ground. Which was quite a feat in these shoes, given my inability to take a step without walking like Frankenstein's monster.
"I'm glad you came." He said simply.
Looking into his face at that moment, I could honestly answer, "Me too."
"Were you very mad that I sent Greenleigh for you?"
I considered that, wondering if he had done it purposely to annoy me, and almost didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Only for a minute."
"You're gorgeous." He said candidly, and I could only smile. He laughed at that, conscious of my palpable discomfort at being complimented. "And you didn't leave Townsend after all."
"No, I'm going tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." He repeated. "You're set on that?"
"Yes. I...I'm starting a new job Monday. Summer wasn't going to last forever."
"No, I suppose it wasn't." He said, and lifted his head to look around the room, smiling. "Weston told me you met. He's sending me a very defiant look right now, too. You have a terrible habit of bumping into members of my family, I'm surprised we didn't meet years ago."
I laughed. "Maybe it's your family that keeps bumping into me. -Oh I remember now, I promised to dance with him so he wouldn't have to play nice with your friends."
"I thought he might have sucked you in like that." He grinned, "Yes, he's very mistreated. I pity him enormously." A small crease appeared between his brows. "Where's your brother? I thought he was coming with you."
"Andy? No, he went home."
"Home?" He repeated, with an expression of mixed disbelief and surprise.
"Well, I guess it wasn't home yet. He went to Nevada first and then he was going home." I remembered then about Haven's encounter with Andy. "Which reminds me -"
"When did he go home?" He interrupted, his movement perceptibly slowing.
"I don't know, a few days ago I suppose. But Haven, I wanted to ask-"
"Why did he go?" He asked rather hastily, peering into my eyes.
"Well that's sort of what I'm trying to ask you. I mean to find out why, if... or were you at, I mean with him – Andy I mean, last week?" The degree of my ineloquence has taken many years of studied social inexperience to attain.
"What?" He laughed, distracted.
I sighed resolutely. "Okay, Andy told me that he lost some money...and maybe some other stuff, to you a in a poker game."
"Yes?"
"And I thought that was...well, not...good."
"People usually do seem disappointed when that happens,"
"Well, so I thought it was important to get him out of town before he made an even bigger mess of things here, and so I could help him pay off his debts."
"Really." He said, "And just how exactly were you planning on doing that?" But before I could answer he said in an almost frustrated voice, "Tabby, I thought I could leave you alone for five minutes."
"What?" I exclaimed.
He had completely stopped dancing now, but still held me as though we were. "Let's go over here." He said, keeping his arm around my waist and directing us away from the crowd that now filled the dance floor.
There was really no way for Haven to make a move without creating a stir. The room buzzed whenever he blinked, and anyone within sight was conscious of his every step. So it was necessary to meander slowly, chatting every now and then with someone or another until he found a secluded alcove with a stone fountain that distorted our conversation from nearby listeners. He led me to a bench. "Okay look," he said as we both sat down, "I wasn't entirely honest when I said why I had to go out of town last week. While I was there, I had a meeting with one of my lawyers."
I bolted to my feet again. "Lawyers?" Oh God, he was going to sue Andy. I felt sick. "I- my dad is, – he'll-"
"Yes, I'm aware of your father's skill set. Sit down, would you?" He said coolly, and glanced discreetly around. I complied. "Could you maybe try to keep from looking quite so upset with me when we're surrounded by prying eyes?"
"Right, sorry."
"It was just the one lawyer. I was at the poker game that night with Andy. He kept talking about 'his Sara', and the problems they've, uh, encountered, I guess you could say."
"Yeah, I know about Andy and Th-, Sara. What's a lawyer have to do with it?" I asked nervously.
"We were meeting about something unrelated, but while I was there I made sure he could be at Andy and Sara's disposal for her annulment."
I frowned, "Why would you do that?"
He sighed, looking at me, "Because I understand what it feels like to want something desperately, and have it held just out of reach." He said. "Also, I don't imagine Andy's confided his situation to your father, and is therefore at a loss to enlist his help."
The mixture of relief that he wasn't going to sue Andy, and astonishment that he would consider going so far out of his way for someone he barely knew overwhelmed me. I couldn't find words. I stood up again and walked around the fountain. As I moved, I looked across the crowded room, at all the people there who had a legitimate claim on Haven's attention and feeling ashamed for monopolizing it.
"You look confused." He said, walking toward me, "Maybe I should explain. I only went to Fitch's that night because Doug told me he was bringing Andy. It was the same night you were in Casltereagh with Mira, do you remember?"
"Yes, you had Greenleigh take me home."
"The only thing keeping me from taking you home myself, was that I knew if I didn't go to Fitch's, he would to do to Andy what I've seen him do to dozens of others. So instead of trying to dissuade Andy from playing with Fitch, since that would naturally only make him want to do it more, I did my best to make sure that anything he lost, was lost to me. I'd never hold him to it. In fact, I threw his I.O.U.'s in the shredder as soon as I got home. Which was shortly after he passed out, face down on the table. I figured he couldn't get into too much trouble from there."
"You...made him lose money to you, to save him from Fitch?"
"Yes."
"And then you left town to help his girlfriend get an annulment?"
He shrugged. "Well, I also had some work to get done."
"Because..."
He smiled a little guiltily now, "Isn't it obvious? You. For weeks, everything I've done has been for you. I have fallen so completely in love with you, I can't think of anything else."
I took a step away, breathing quickly, and nearing tears. "You don't. You- you can't." I couldn't take it anymore. I could never be worthy of this guy, and he deserved to know the truth about me. "Haven, I have to talk to you."
"I thought that was what we were doing." There was no look of dejection in him, no trace of a man about to receive bad news.
"There's something I need to tell you." I said, and swore I caught a glimmer of satisfied anticipation in his eyes.
"Okay," He folded his arms.
"Okay." I breathed. I couldn't turn back. I had to tell him. "I haven't been honest with you."
"Hmm...No?"
"No. I've been lying to you since we met."
"Yes?"
"I'm not rich. My family's not famous. Everything you know about me is untrue. And I'm sorry. I never wanted to deceive you, and I don't expect you to understand or to forgive me, but just know that I am so, so very sorry. You don't love me, you don't know me at all. I'm a fraud. And there's no way Andy can fully repay you right now, but he will if you give him some time." I felt sick. Like I just verbally vomited all over the place. I hung my head, knowing he would turn around and walk away, and probably re-contact that lawyer friend of his.
"Mm-Hmm?" he replied slowly, unmoved.
I looked up at that. "Did you not hear me? I've been misleading you. Everyone. I'm a liar." I stared into his flawless face, praying I wouldn't have to repeat it again.
He uncrossed his arms and, stepping closer, took both of my shaking hands in his and placed them once again on his chest. "Tabitha, you may have lied to me, and so far as I can tell, you've only done so once, but you never mislead me."
"I -?"
"And I can't speak for anyone else, but I believe I know you better than you think."
I knew I must have been breathing, because I could hear it. Tears stood welling in my eyes, and while I knew my grandmother would murder me if I ruined my makeup, I couldn't satisfactorily blink them away. I looked again into his face. "You-? You knew?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"The whole time."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"At first," he sighed, "because you caught me at the end of a rough day, when I was in an unforgivable mood. I suspected you heard me say something impolite and wanted to snub me." I blushed horribly. "Rightfully so, by the way." He continued, "I knew I deserved it. When I met you again, I couldn't feel about you the way I did, and chose instead to believe that it would be amusing to see if I could convince everyone of what you had already claimed to be. I suppose I could have squashed the rumor, and now I'm only a little sorry I didn't. I really never meant to involve you in anything with Fitch, and I never meant to cause you any pain or expose you to a public life." He glanced concernedly into my eyes, "But then I found myself wanting you. And wanting you to trust me. And the more I saw you, the more I knew you, the more I wanted. I was in real trouble the minute I discovered you were here and didn't want to leave Townsend."
"No." I squeezed my eyes, shaking my head. "No, that doesn't make sense. You don't understand, I am exactly what you were accusing me of when we were in Las Vegas. I'm tricking you into thinking I'm someone I'm not, so you'll like me."
He smiled at my expression. "Is that why you did it? I thought you were trying to show me how arrogant I was."
"I was," I drew my hands away from him and fidgeted, wishing I had pockets I could shove them into. "but only at first."
"You're very pretty when you do that."
"Do what?"
"Wring your hands and bite your lip. I find it difficult to stop myself from wanting to kiss you." He took my hands in his once more and gently kissed my fingertips. "You do it a lot."
"How are you not angry?"
"Because from the moment you had that adorably defiant look on your face, telling us you were dodging the paparazzi, my heart was in your hands. I was being a jerk, and you called me on it, and it instantly turned a bad day into one I'll never forget."
"You're not upset that I lied."
"I'm not."
"And that I kept lying?"
"Well, I could take part of the responsibility for that."
"Or that I've been using you to better my social aspirations by making you hang out with me?"
"First, no one is about to make me do something I don't want to do. And second, I don't honestly believe you to have even the smallest social aspiration in you, or you never could have been so successful. As for making me hang out with you, you've rejected almost every attempt I made to be near you since we've met." He smiled reluctantly. "I couldn't help myself. You're totally irresistible when you happen to let that impenetrable guard down." He took my hands in his again. "I can't possibly be the only victim to your ruthless charms. In fact, I know I'm not."
My head was swimming. I was in a dream, this had to be a dream. How is it possible that he was actually saying everything I ever wanted to hear him say? I've spent nights lying awake imagining him saying exactly those words. I wasn't sure whether to throw myself at him or pinch myself before I did anything reckless.
"Should we dance again?" He asked, watching my brain slowly accept what he just told me. I nodded absently, following the hand he held. We were dancing at the center of the crowd, Haven beaming just a little, and me, completely bewildered. "And now that we finally have that settled, will you please tell me what exactly your brother told you about the night at Fitch's before we find him at the bottom of a lake?"
"My...Andy? I already told you. He said he was playing poker with you and Fitch and some other people, and he lost about fifteen thousand dollars," We're going to talk about Andy now?
"Yes?"
"And then after I sent him to Nevada, Fitch showed up in my Grandmother's living room and said that Andy also owed him some outrageous things that must have been invented after he woke up from his drunken stupor. Fitch said something about a villa in Spain and cars? Oh, and a yacht. I'm guessing when they were stumbling home, Andy ditched Doug and went back to Fitch."
"Why would Andy say he owns things that he doesn't?"
"Because when he showed up in town, -you were there - I had to tell him about the story I created, and told him he had to pretend to be wealthy and vague."
"A Spanish villa sounds pretty specific."
"I know. He never knows when to quit. I don't think he drinks much, and even when he's sober he loses his head pretty easily."
"So Fitch knows that Andy is gone?"
"Yes." I answered, lowering my gaze.
"And?"
"And when he came to see me to find out where Andy was, he said that unless I can bring him back, he would hold me as collateral. He wanted me to go sailing or something."
"Of course he did. Apparently Fitch won't be content until he's put himself in jail." Haven frowned. "He hasn't actually done anything to you, has he?"
"Oh, no. I don't think he meant anything by it, he was probably just trying to scare me into telling him where Andy was."
"Trust me, he meant it." He said, "Look, Fitch is here tonight, and he was already pretty well smashed by the time he showed up. I don't want you to go near him. Not until I've had a chance to talk to him."
"What are you going to say?"
"Nothing much." He shrugged, "I might mention the legitimacy of his trying collecting a debt he knows well he can't claim without my interference, perhaps some exaggeration of your father's legal reach. I might also point out the outcome of any attempt on his part to harm any member of a family I have a particular interest in." He smiled, "Or, I might just punch him in the face and give him my own house in Spain."
"Are you going to tell him about us? I mean me and Andy. That we can't hand over something we don't have?"
"I don't intend to say anything to anyone."
I cast my eyes down again. "Thank you. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. You were the only one I was really worried about finding out. -Well, you and my grandmother."
He put a gentle finger under my chin, lifting my face to his and smiling down at me. "I don't envy you that, your grandmother scares the hell out of me too. But you don't have to worry about me anymore." His hand brushed my cheek as the song finished. "You never did."
Most of the crowd began to drift from the floor toward the bar, but Haven kept his hand on the small of my back and led me to a curtained alcove. There was a couple speaking privately there, but at our approach, they departed. "I have one more thing to confess." Haven said, "Since the Harper wedding, I have been waiting an eternity to kiss you again."
I felt my face redden and smiled hugely at that. "Have you?"
"I have, and I should warn you now that I intend to do it again, and I intend to do it often." I blushed fiercely as he pulled me against his chest. My head spun in elated delirium as I breathed him in. We were behind the curtained section of the alcove, and I closed my eyes when he grazed warm lips against mine. A quiet moan escaped him, and the pleasure of that sound smothered the more conservative voices in my head, stirring me to respond with a complete disregard for the consequences.
I succumbed to the relief of building pressure from past weeks, and the desire for Haven I'd been shoving aside, finally gave way. My hands wound possessively around his neck, twisting into his hair, pulling him closer still. My reaction sent a rush of urgency through Haven and his lips parted, moving in perfect sync with mine. I knew then that I was completely lost to him.
I exhaled, looking around. "What if someone sees you?" It would be suspicious if we were out of view for too long, so before either of us got too carried away, Haven pulled back with a contented smile. He took my hand and strolled casually into the part of the alcove where we were more easily seen, and kissed me again. This time in a much more gentlemanly, though no less enthusiastic manner, and I welcomed it happily and with equal enthusiasm. There were only maybe a handful of people nearby, but all of them had phones and weren't afraid to snap pictures.
"Then they'll be happy I've finally given them the evidence they need to confirm the rumors."
"What rumors?" I couldn't keep the stupid smile from my face. I felt more blissfully ecstatic than I ever remembered feeling.
"All of them." He took a half step away, and held my hands again in his. "If I go talk to Greenleigh about recovering your brother, will you stay here until I come back?"
"Yes," I answered, willing to do absolutely anything he wanted until the end of time. "I'll be fine."
"I promise to come right back." He said, and kissed me once more before strolling away with a little bounce in his step. He paused while still within earshot, chatting with someone apparently called "Hal Everston", to inquire politely about a knee replacement surgery that recently took place. I could see Haven glancing every few seconds over Hal's shoulder to make sure I was still where he left me, and I tried my best to remain content to stare into the water of the fountain. He was already gone too long.
While Haven was with me, the alcove we occupied was left respectfully secluded, but the instant he left it began at once to fill with others who were also trying to find a private spot.
"Oh look," A pretty voice said behind me, "It's another one of Haven's bimbo's". It was Mira, and she was talking to someone I didn't know, just a few feet away.
"I heard they were engaged." The guy said.
"No, she's just the rebound girl. He was with Amanda the other night. You know how he is."
"That's not what I heard, Amanda said she's with Riley."
I kept my eyes on the fountain to hide my face and so they wouldn't know I was listening. Mira was adamant. "No, I know for a fact-"
"Excuse me, Miss," I looked over then, recognizing Greenleigh's voice. He was next to Mira. "Your driver is waiting for you."
"My Driver?!" She looked furious. "I'm not ready to leave. Go away."
"I'm afraid I must insist." He maintained, ushering her discreetly in the direction of the exit. She was red-faced and blustering incoherently before she reached the door, but somehow no one else seemed to notice the disruption. The guy she had been talking to shrugged carelessly before going in search of someone else to talk to.
Almost immediately, Weston, who had caught my eye from across the room, found his way to my side. "Mira drives me insane." He said.
"What did she do?"
"She's been badmouthing you all night so Haven had her booted."
"You're not serious."
"He does that. Trust me, no one will miss her." He smiled. "Hey, you promised to dance with me."
"Night's not over yet." I smiled, mortified that Haven would do something like that to try and save my face, but as happy as I was, I couldn't force myself to linger on it. "Have you been suffering much?"
"Terribly." He grinned back, "But you could solve everything by dancing with me now so I can't be accused of being antisocial."
I thought of Haven's asking me to stay where I was, and searched the room. He had left his conversation with Hal, and was only few yards further into the crowd speaking with a woman wearing black and white peacock feathers. He turned his head at the same moment I looked up, and when he saw I was speaking with Weston, nodded his approval.
"Alright," I smiled, and turned back to Weston.
Weston's face lit and he took my hand at once and pulled me back into the crowd where the other guests were dancing. Most of them were as interested in Weston as they were in Haven, and I figured I might as well get used to the idea that I would be under intense speculation for the rest of the night as long as I was in the company of any member of the Casey family.
I couldn't see Haven at all now, but Weston discovered he was comfortable enough with me to keep up a fluid conversation. My concentration was focused on not tripping all over the place. Weston was a good dancer, but I found myself putting forth much more effort with him and my shoes weren't cooperating.
"Didn't you tell me you and Haven weren't together?"
I grinned, remembering the perpetual feeling of rejection revolving around my thoughts of Haven, and reminding myself now he was actually mine. Mine. It didn't seem real. "I didn't think we were." I answered honestly. The song ended and the bejeweled woman in the black dress paused long enough to announce the beginning of the live and silent auctions. The crowd dispersed into tables and lines, but when Weston and I were about to walk off the floor, Darling found me.
"Tabitha, sweetheart, you're needed over here." She said, shooing Weston in the opposite direction. "Weston, go find your brother. Your father has something to say to you both."
"Where am I going?" I asked.
"Shoes! It's time for your shoes, of course!" She flashed her lovely smile, shuffling me to the platform where a dozen or so professional models waited. "Now wait here until it's your turn to walk out."
"Wh -What am I supposed to do?" I asked nervously.
"Oh, nothing much. Just walk around, show your feet, nothing complicated," she said, waving her hand at the other girls, "Just do what they do. You'll be fine." She darted away before she was even finished talking, which left me alone with a bunch of the most waif-like, high-cheeked women I'd ever seen with my own eyes. I recognized one of them from a makeup commercial. They glared at me like a weed in a flowerbed.
"Hi," I said forcing a smile. Every one of them rolled their eyes and turned their backs to me. I'd never felt so short and ugly in my life, and realized I was actually seeking my grandmother's face for comfort. She was nowhere to be seen, of course. My guess was, having seen me safely bestowed into Haven's care, which I had long since been convinced was her only purpose in attending this party, she abandoned me for home within the first half hour of our arrival.
The auctioneer on the platform called my name, and the models turned to me again, now full of smiles, applause, and an overeager willingness to assist in guiding me up the steps. Once on the stage, the lights were so bright I couldn't see into the crowd, which just slightly suppressed the terror threatening to make me flee.
The man held out his hand in the direction of my shoes, and began describing them in far more detail than I knew they held. I lifted the skirt of my dress a few inches to display Michelle's darlings and I heard murmurs of admiration floating through the air. With sudden determination the announcer declared, "I'll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars." I listened in stunned silence as the number increased rapidly, hoping that if my grandmother did go home, she might have remembered to leave my spare shoes behind with Greenleigh.
My eyes were adjusting now, and at the thought of Greenleigh, I looked around for him and saw he wasn't standing near the entrance where I thought he would be. Haven wasn't in sight at all anymore either, but I supposed he was mingling somewhere in the room. I had already absorbed so much of his attention this evening, I supposed I'd been spoiled by it. It might be considerate of me to share him with his guests but the knowledge that I was leaving the next day and not knowing whether his inexplicable affection would survive any amount of distance, filled me with such a sense of dismay, I didn't want to let him out of my reach.
The bidding reached thirty thousand dollars, and was beginning to slow down. The lights were making me warm by now and my feet were getting sweaty. I was sorry for whoever had to touch the shoes after they came off me. Within seconds the auctioneer slammed down his gavel shouting "Sold! For forty five thousand dollars to the gentleman in the black tuxedo!" This caused a swell of laughter, since every man in the room was wearing a black tuxedo. "I sure hope they fit!" He chuckled, and then walked away from the podium and bent to help me remove the outrageously priced shoes.
"Thank you," I whispered, stepping out of them.
"No," he said, smiling, "Thank you. This is the highest bid I've ever seen for used shoes. It's a good benchmark to set for the rest of the night." He stood, holding the shoes very carefully, and as he guided me deftly from the stage, looked me up and down and asked "I don't suppose you'd want to have them bid for the dress?"
"Oh, I don't think I should," I answered uncertainly. I wasn't really sure who it belonged to.
"Didn't think so," He smiled and returned to his position before calling the next model.
Once my eyes had adjusted to the lights, it took a moment for them to adapt again to the dimness of the rest of the room, and I was blinded once again. I gripped the railing next to the stage until a strong hand reached out to help me find my way. I took it gratefully, and looked up.
"Fitch!" I burst involuntarily into his heavy-lidded face.
"Hello Tabitha," He slurred. "Care to go for that sail now?"
I jerked my hand away. "No, I don't think I do." My eyes had mostly recovered by now, and I scanned the room for a familiar face. Any familiar face. Without my shoes though, I was about five inches shorter than I previously was, and could only see the faces of those immediately surrounding me.
"Oh, come on then," he said, trying to sound friendly, but his voice held the unmistakably spiteful tone of one who wouldn't accept no for an answer, "let's get you a drink." He seized my arm above the elbow, and shoved me in the direction of a door behind the backdrop of the stage where no one would see us.
"I don't want a drink, I want to go get my shoes."
"Everybody wants a drink. Here." He said, handing me a silver flask.
I looked down at it doubtfully, and put my palm up between us. "Yeah, I'm all set."
"Just try it, you're gonna like it." He smiled.
I rolled my eyes, wanting to get rid of him as quickly as possible. "And then you'll leave me alone?"
"Sure, why not."
I took the flask, faking a small sip, and before I could pull it away Fitch tipped the bottom up pouring the burning liquid down my throat. I coughed, spluttering everywhere, and he laughed at me.
"C'mon out here for some air." he said, re-gripping my arm and taking me through the doors onto a terrace.
"No Fitch, I don't have shoes. I need to find Greenleigh. And a napkin."
"Oh, Greenleigh, shmeenleigh. Don't you mean you want to run to Haven? Whatta you think he's gonna do? Buy you some shoes?" he began scornfully, and stopped. "W- yeah, he probably will. But not right now, he's busy chasing down your brother. But not me. I had a better idea. You'll feel better once you get some fresh air."
He yanked me onto the terrace. I tripped on my dress, trying to hold it up with one hand while he gripped the other in an obstinate hold.
"Fitch, you're hurting me. Please let go."
"I'm not hurting you. If I was going to hurt you, I'd do this." And before I could flinch, he balled up his fist and punched me in the stomach with all the force of one defending his sainted mother's honor.
There was no possible way he could know how strong he is. I crumbled to my knees, unable to catch my breath. I wanted to scream for help but couldn't breathe. I felt nauseous and started to retch but not having taken my grandmothers advice earlier to eat something, there was nothing in my stomach except whatever it was Fitch had just poured down my throat. And there was no way I wanted that to come back up so I swallowed the impulse.
Voices and footsteps approached, and a man and woman stopped in the doorway of the terrace where I was bent to the flagstones, choking. "Oh!" Their surprised voices said at the sight of me.
I tried to say that I needed help, but I couldn't take a breath. Fitch was sitting composedly, wagging a flask. "She's just had a little too much to drink. She'll be fine." He smiled, and they looked down at me disapprovingly. I shook my head, reaching out to them, but they returned inside, embarrassed to have interrupted. The woman's voice travelled back to me, "Apparently Darling's precious gala's have deteriorated into frat parties."
I stayed where I was, thinking this might be the furthest Fitch was willing to let me get, and little by little I was able to catch my breath, my body starting to relax. I hated Fitch for making me feel such a loss of control. He sat nearby, watching me with smug satisfaction, and I tried remembering the self-defense moves my brothers taught me.
"Come on now, up you get." Fitch said, now standing over me and pulling me to my feet. "Drink this." He placed me on a low stone wall and shoved the flask under my nose again. The smell made the nausea return.
I pushed his hand away and stood, preparing to go inside to find someone to punch him back for me. Not for the first time, I genuinely wished Andy hadn't gone home.
"No, ya don't," he laughed and immediately caught me from behind. "I said, drink this." Ever the gentleman, he held the flask to my mouth again, freeing my elbow, and with all the force my body could muster, I threw my elbow up behind me, and into his nose.
"Knock it off!" I shouted. He was stunned just enough to loosen his grip and I tore away without looking back. I only reached the entry, screaming for help before he was on me again, and the band was now so loud it drowned out every other sound.
He was infuriated, swearing as he grabbed me by my dress, ripping it, and then taking a handful of my hair and slamming my head into the door. My limited view of the room spun and blurred, and when I stumbled backward he pinned my arms with one arm and held up my chin with the other, pouring the fiery remains of his flask down my throat.
My stomach was wracked and now my head was absolutely splitting. I was too dizzy stand on my own, and he had to support most of my weight. When he was finished, he let go and I fell back to the ground. I saw a streak of blood on my dress where his hand had been, and when I looked up at him, his face was covered in it. As miserable as I was, I knew a flicker of satisfaction at having hurt him. He tossed the flask into the bushes and returned to his seat on the wall, checking his watch.
"Stubborn little thing, aren't you." He growled.
"What is your problem?" I had to stall for time. I needed to regain my head so I could rally for the next attempt to get back inside.
"Shut the hell up." He said, looking almost defeated. It was somehow encouraging.
"Fine." I said angrily. I rose awkwardly to my feet, and everything spun faster. He didn't move, and I backed toward the door. The woozy feeling was compounded, and I started feeling a sense of floating, like I was somehow outside of my body. "What was in that flask?"
"Oh, that?" He asked innocently, "Just a little cocktail I made especially for you."
There was an announcement from inside: "Miss Tabitha Bridian, please meet your party at the northwest entrance immediately."
"Yes!" I breathed, turning. "Yes, I'm coming!" My voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. I was suddenly insanely tired. So uncontrollably tired. "I'll be right there," I heard myself say. Fitch still didn't move, and I reached the terrace doors again. There was a smudge of blood where he had slammed my head a minute ago, and I couldn't get any further. My feet wouldn't move. "I just need to sit down." I breathed. "For a second."
"Of course you do." Fitch said. "Why don't you let me help you to somewhere more comfortable?"
"No!" I shouted, gaining one step further.
He came at me quickly then, and I heard shuffling from inside the conservatory.
"We have to go now, Tabitha," Fitch said.
"No. Please Fitch, just stop." I said. Everything was fuzzy in my brain.
"Aw, you don't mean that," He said, pulling me away from the door again and jamming it shut with a stick.
"Yes, I do. I hate you." My legs didn't object when he picked me up, and I couldn't bring myself to care when I artlessly rested my head on his shoulder.
"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
"I don't want to walk. I want to go away from you." I persisted.
Fitch laughed under his breath, and started walking quickly. He looked down at me again, and stopped suddenly. "Oh, no way."
"Go away." I couldn't clear the fog. Couldn't think.
"What is this?" He said, "Were you purposely trying to make this easy for me?" His face came very close to mine. My head fell back and rolled again onto his shoulder where I could see him examining my necklace. "Is this what I think it is? How on earth did you get your hands on it?" He laughed again, very pleased with himself. "Why don't we call this plan 'B'."
In the distance, something very far away sounded like Haven's voice. He was calling my name, or at least I thought that was what I heard. I couldn't be sure, of course. Maybe I didn't hear it, or maybe I only heard because I wanted to hear it. I was so sick, and so tired, and Fitch was bouncing so roughly I was having trouble forming a complete thought.
I had to fight. I knew I had to get myself out of this or I would be the one at the bottom of a lake. I pushed past the haze, shoved aside the pain, took a huge breath, and with everything in me, screamed at the top of my lungs, scissor-kicking my feet to throw Fitch off balance.
"Tabby!" I definitely heard Haven, still far off, through the trees. Fitch walked faster.
He cursed and set me down, leaning me against a tree, my bare feet stumbling over the rough terrain. "Shut up and be still." he said, and slapped me. It hurt of course, and at first I just glared at him with hate-filled rage. But he was stupid enough to leave my arms free so I balled up my fist and thrust it into his throat. He caught me before I hit him, smirking, and crunched my fingers in his hand.
I screamed again, the ringing in my ears deafening, but this time more because of the pain than for help. I heard Haven call to me again, now with a desperation in his voice that just about broke me. I wanted Fitch to suffer, and I wanted to be the one to inflict it. I stared into his soulless face, took a deep breath, and tried screaming again. But Fitch knew my intentions the second I inhaled and before I released a whisper, he punched me in the face.
But I refused to let the darkness take me over. I couldn't let him win. He wanted me to give up, he wanted me to surrender to the exhaustion and the pain, and I wouldn't do it. I could feel a fresh stream of blood on my face, and the headache thundering through my brain was overtaking every muscle in my body. He slung me over his shoulder and walked forever. Maybe. The bruising and my head made it feel like forever. And then I was in a car? I was laying on a seat. A long-ish seat, and I felt very cold but at the same time sweaty, and my face was sticking to the surface. Across from me, Fitch sat with a drink in his hand, and gave orders to a driver that I didn't understand.
"It's over now," he said to me.
"Like hell it's over. What do you think is going to happen?" I said between breaths.
"Whatever I want, I expect." He grinned.
"Where are we going?"
"I already told you. We're going for a sail. Maybe a swim. Now be a good girl and shut up before I show you what pain really feels like."
The next thing I knew I was on a floor. A bobbing floor. Or was I the one bobbing? I was incredibly sick, but jolted to attention when I remembered about Fitch. I had no idea how long we were in the car, but we must be on his boat now. I had to get out of here. I heard water lapping, and prayed we were still docked. My wrist wouldn't move, he must have twisted it when he crushed my fingers. With my good hand, I pushed myself to my feet, and fell again immediately. I was dizzy, my stomach was killing me, my dress was splashed with blood and practically in shreds, and...I felt my neck.
My mother's necklace was gone. Gone. My heart sank, and I couldn't hold back anymore. Whatever contents my stomach held, revolted against my body and I vomited into a bucket that reeked of fish. The smell, contributing further to the nausea, encouraged the remainder of anything I had thought about for the past two weeks to appear before my eyes and empty into the bucket as well.
I lay on that floor, depleted, for eternity. I couldn't move an inch, I couldn't even think about it. But I had to get off this boat, there may not be another chance. A sudden flow of fury invaded my veins and motivated me to try standing one more time. I surveyed my surroundings, looking for something to grab, something hard.
There was a small fire extinguisher on the wall. I took it and stumbled over to the steps, peeking up through the open hatch. Fitch was moving quickly up and down the dock doing, I supposed, whatever needed to be done to sail a boat. This was it. I knew it would be either him or me, and I was damned if it would be me.
Fitch stood on the dock holding a coil of rope. When he spied me climbing through the hatch, he cursed and threw down the rope, coming at me, his hands like claws. "What the hell!" He jumped onto the boat, and I swung the fire extinguisher with my left hand until the metal crashed into his skull. It checked his speed, but only slowed him a little, and when he lunged again, I kicked clumsily at his groin, the boat rocking at just the wrong moment. He caught my foot with one hand and knocked me on my back, sending the fire extinguisher into the water.
"That might've been more successful if you were a little more coordinated, honey." He sneered. He stood over me, still holding my foot, and I shoved the heel of my other foot upward between his legs.
"Don't call me honey." I spat.
He was finally on the ground, writhing in pain, but still not so debilitated that he couldn't grab my ankle again before I could crawl away.
"Why do you have to keep pissing me off!" He clambered to his knees still holding on to me, and twisted my foot violently. I rolled with it, hoping not to hear the crack that sent a sharp, needling pain through all the remaining parts of my body that were intact.
I knew then I was defeated. I knew he was going to do whatever it was he planned to do, and unless I turned out to be some kind of medical miracle, was destined to suffer at his hands until I could regain any amount of strength. I lay still, concentrating on my breathing, not focusing on the pain, and praying for sleep.
"You're only making this harder on yourself." He said, standing over me again and panting.
"Fitch!" I heard two voices shout. One, a screeching cry, the other furious. I opened my eyes again to see fear finally tearing at the fabric of Fitch's confidence. He dropped my ankle and I cried out in agony as it hit the floor. "What did you do?!" It sounded a little like Haven, but far less composed. I didn't dare move. Not that I could if I wanted to.
"Fitch, how could you?" The other voice said. It sounded like Georgia. I tilted my chin up to glance behind me. It was unquestionably Georgia and Haven. Haven was just behind her, and where she stopped, too stunned to come closer, Haven barreled past, murder in his face.
"She asked to come with me!" Fitch explained. Before the words completely left his mouth, Havens fist met with it, sending him flying into the water.
"Stop!" Georgia screamed.
"Georgia,"he thundered, "keep him there, I'm taking Tabitha to the car, and I'm comingback." Havens face hovered over me. "Tabby,"He whispered. I couldn't read his expression, whether it held anger or concern,and now, knowing he was with me, feeling him lift me into his arms, I didn'tcare. I submitted to the exhaustion and the pain, letting the darkness close inlike a warm blanket.