40. The Gala
Maureen
Three months later
"Cara, have you seen Ryan?" I asked, leaning over her chair, where she sat texting on her cell-phone.
"Um..." She glanced up at me, a frown making its way over her face as she shook her head. "No. Last I saw him he was on his way to the men's room. Why- you haven't seen him?"
"No... he's acting weird today, did you notice?" I abruptly asked her, my brow furrowing in confusion. My heel was caught on the long skirt of the dress I wore and I quickly leaned over to free it. She seemed startled.
"He... is? Weird how?"
I straightened, scanning the ballroom, trying to ascertain between Ryan's tall, broad-shouldered body and all the other tuxedo-clad males crowding the ballroom. "I don't know... he's just been acting funny." I didn't tell Cara how unsettled I actually was. Ryan had been acting strange all day, even before we all piled in the limos to come to the hotel.
Today was the social event of the year: a fabulous gala that my father was hosting to draw together all the leading benefactors of BFN. It not only raised awareness for our company, but it gave celebrities a chance to dress up and pay ten thousand dollars a plate of food (a monstrous sum of money, in my opinion, but since it was all going to charity, I didn't have any complaints). All of Hollywood's most elite attended, as well as the leading doctors in the industry and even wealthy, influential politicians. It was an elaborate affair and promised to last long into the evening- perhaps past midnight. I didn't mind; I was having a wonderful time. There was dancing and beautiful music, with California's Symphony Orchestra playing live. All my family was here- Lauren had even come, towing Fred (I'll never get used to her husband's height) behind her. She was almost full-term and I couldn't wait to welcome my first little niece/nephew into the world.
The ballroom was huge and yet the sheer number of guests who had attended overcrowded the place. Everywhere I looked were people, positively glittering in their gowns and sparkling jewelry: celebrities, socialites, dashing men in Armani suits, gorgeously dressed women dripping in diamonds, weathered old gentlemen with their trophy wives. My family, along with Diane and Lacey, were mingling with the guests clustered about the beautiful table where Dad was talking with a senator. George Clooney sat at a table on the far side of the room, entertaining a small crowd of women. I smiled to myself. I had already been introduced to the famously swoon-worthy Mr. Clooney a few months back and today, had the privilege of greeting him with a shake of the hand as we now constituted as acquaintances. I remembered with an inward giggle when I introduced him to Ryan. George had been in the midst of offering to get me into a movie of his when Ryan came up next to me, hands in pockets, eyes flashing in a strange mixture of jealousy and amusement. George's eyebrows went up and Ryan reached a hand out, his tone amicable.
"Mr. Clooney. It's great to meet you... I see you've met my girlfriend, Maureen," he smiled, placing a hand on my back.
"Ah, so you're the lucky guy," George returned in the same tone, shaking Ryan's hand. George was very polite and had his own charm, of course. I liked him very much... but I had the bothersome idea that he was hitting on me. So did Ryan, by the looks of it. "You certainly have a beautiful young woman here, Mr..." He trailed off. I rolled my eyes, as neither of them was looking at me. George knew who Ryan was. His face had been all over the tabloids and the internet for months. GQ magazine just released its March issue, and Ryan had been featured in one of its articles: Ryan Adams, the former chauffeur-turned-boyfriend of heiress Maureen Carvelli, is voted Hottest Guy of 2011.
"Adams. Ryan Adams."
"Pleasure... I was just offering Maureen here the chance to audition for a role in a film I'll be producing and starring in in a few months. It's called Surrender; high-action, suspense. I suppose you've heard of it?"
"No."
I surreptitiously reached behind me, with all the casual grace of a thief, and slid my hand over Ryan's, squeezing his fingers beneath mine. He leaned closer to me.
"I think you'd be a wonderful addition to the cast," George said to me with that easy smile. "I can pull a few strings at the studio... talk to some people. You're film star material, my dear," he said, laughing lightly- a laugh meant to make me go weak at the knees, I assumed. He held up his champagne glass, indicating my figure. "You got the looks for sure, the smarts and the money to match... you could be the next Marilyn Monroe... though I would suggest remaining brunette. It gives you that dark, foxy look." He winked playfully and Ryan stiffened. I laughed cheerfully and shook my head.
"Thanks, I'm flattered. But I'm not an actress."
He chuckled too and gave me a flirtatious shake of his head. "Sweetheart, I told you before, you must call me George."
Ryan must have decided that enough was enough because he suddenly straightened and said, in no uncertain terms, "Mr. Clooney, if you'd excuse us, I have to steal this girl away for a while-" He looked down at me, his eyes fierce in jealousy and tender in apparent adoration of me, "she owes me a few moments of her time." I gazed back, inwardly confused, but determined to not let on that I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Of course, how could I forget?" I said, smiling sweetly as Ryan's arm twined around my waist, drawing me closer to him.
"It's no wonder the guy can't keep his eyes off you; you're maddeningly beautiful," he whispered.
That turned my face a rosy pink and I let Ryan pull me into his chest, trying to hide my smile as George looked down into his glass of champagne and then looked at Ryan and me, a small smile on his lips.
"Of course. I'll see you later, I hope, Miss Carvelli," he said, raising his glass in salute as he turned away.
"Enjoy the party, George," Ryan called after him, causing me to erupt into giggles.
"You're so bad," I flicked his suit jacket with my finger. He grinned, stealing another kiss.
"You're just lucky I didn't cause a scene."
"Jealous much?"
He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "And there goes Captain Obvious, strutting her stuff..."
I flicked his chest again and it was then that he suddenly looked at his watch, his manner becoming twitchy as he shook his head. "I could've sworn..."
"What?"
"No, nothing. Wanna dance?"
I frowned but let him lead me to the center of the ballroom.
He had been glued to my side all evening after that, up until the time where he suddenly expressed his unquenchable thirst and went off in search of cold drinks. (Even though there were butlers and waiters posted every ten feet surrounding us and he could have asked one of them.) That was three quarters of an hour ago. I wouldn't have minded, but it wasn't the first time today that he did something weird... It wasn't like Ryan to be checking his phone every other minute, suddenly becoming twitchy when he had a text. I didn't know who he was texting and he didn't tell me. He also had seemed to develop a strange obsession with knowing the time. He seemed on edge, nervous, brooding about something... I had asked him if he was alright twice and he flinched, as if terrified that I had noticed anything amiss. I didn't know what to make of it but I had left it alone, since he obviously didn't want to talk about it. He'd tell me when he was ready, I knew. He always did. I smiled to myself.
It's been months since that fateful day that I went looking for him on the beach and I didn't know it was possible, but with each day that goes by, I find myself loving him even more and more. It was like we were two halves of a whole. Or two puzzle pieces that only fit with each other. Soul-mates. I don't think I could bear ever being separated from him... not again, at least.
Cara's voice startled me back to reality.
"Oh, my gosh, Maureen! Look!" She waved her hand about, pointing to the other side of the ballroom. "It's Tom Cruise."
I laughed. "Cara, I know. I saw him already."
She frowned up at me, perplexed by some secret thought. "Oh... well, let's go say hi, I know you've always wanted to meet him."
"Cara, I want to go look for Ryan... it's weird that I haven't seen him all this time."
"Maureen, holy cow. It's Jon Stewart!"
"Cara, they're just people, chill out." I said, feeling annoyed. I wanted to go look for Ryan. Meet celebrities with him on my arm. Not him missing, and me worried. "Besides, you're going to look insane, and just like any other fan if you go bouncing all over them."
"Come on, we're going over there."
We introduced ourselves to Mr. Stewart; he knew who we were and spent a good twenty minutes chatting with us. Cara, for all hyperventilating, was her charming, engaging self and soon had him laughing and talking easily. Does she ever lose her cool? I thought, annoyed. I stood behind Cara, smiling and answering when spoken to, but silent on all other accounts. My gaze wandered over the corridor of the hotel, where other guests loitered, drinking wine and champagne; Cara had, for one reason or another, insisted that Mr. Stewart come and chat in the hall outside the ballroom. He had obliged, more than happy to do the bidding of this young, pretty, social butterfly. I followed, rather reluctantly, and waited while Cara asked question after question about his show. The humming of people talking and laughing blended with the faint sound of the orchestra inside and I closed my eyes for a moment, listening, and taking it all in. If I listened hard, I could even make out the faint ringing coming from the casino downstairs. It was truly a beautiful place, this hotel. I had always loved it, ever since Dad first brought us for our first vacation as a family, two years ago. The walls, wallpapered in an elegant pattern of swirls and dancing curlicues, were a faint peach and rose color, and adorned with ornate floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and rich, brocaded tapestries. The floor, where it wasn't covered in plush, beige carpet, was a shiny wood, and my heels clacked as I walked (couldn't decide if it was fun or annoying). I mostly loved the ceilings though; they were high, and chandeliers hung from them, glassy and glittering brilliantly with the lights. If I wasn't careful, I could lose myself, staring up at those beautiful chandeliers, shining brighter than diamonds. I allowed myself to immerse in them now, gazing up at the chandelier right above me. It shimmered with every slight movement of my body and I nearly smiled but realized that I might be classified as insane were anybody to catch me in the act of smiling at the ceiling. With a sigh, I returned my gaze to earth, just in time for Cara to turn and take me by the hand.
"Okay, see you later!" She chimed cheerfully, waving as the television host disappeared back into the ballroom. The huge wooden doors closed silently behind them and I frowned, wanting to go back inside and look for Ryan. I protested when Cara started dragging me down the hall.
"Where are we going? Cara, what-"
"Oops, excuse me," Cara bestowed a smile on an older man as we shimmied past him. "Bathroom, Maureen. I want to freshen up."
"Yes, but that doesn't explain why you're dragging me along," I complained, grabbing up the long skirt of my ball-gown as to not trip on it with my four-inch heels.
"I didn't want to go alone," was all she said. I sighed, but said no more.
Once we were in the huge, gorgeous ladies room, I reached into my clutch and pulled out my cell-phone. Cara disappeared into one of the stalls with the warning of, "don't go anywhere," and I rolled my eyes, scrolling through my contacts for Ryan. I dialed his number and waited while it rang.
"Hey," he answered eight rings later. "What's up?" Was it just me, or did he sound a bit strained?
"Um, hey... where are you?" I asked, placing my clutch on the sepia-colored marble surrounding the sinks.
"I'm in the ballroom... where are you, with Cara?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"Because neither of you are in here," he answered with a laugh. I relaxed then.
"Alright... well, you disappeared off to go get those drinks ages ago. I was wondering where you went, is all."
"Don't worry, love, I'm here. I haven't left or anything." I could hear the smile in his voice and it made me forget why I was worried in the first place.
"Okay... see you in a few then."
"We'll dance when you come back."
I smiled and returned my phone to my purse. What was I worried about anyway? He was waiting in the ballroom to dance with me.
"Hey, Maureen... come in here and help me out. I can't use the toilet with this dress- I need you to hold it for me."
"Got news for you, Cara. I'm not doing that for you until the day of your wedding."
"You stink."
I laughed and turned to the mirror, adjusting my hair slightly. I was wearing the black gown that Madam de DuPont had made for me; I hadn't gone to the gala last year- being too depressed- and therefore, had never worn it. I had saved it instead, knowing I would be able to wear it one day in the future. Because in the case of this dress, I couldn't wait to wear it. It was absolutely beautiful. Strapless, it had a tight, fitted bodice, much like a corset, which had tiny, iridescent beads scattered all over the shimmering, black lace. A long, full skirt fell down to the floor.
Around my neck, I wore the locket Ryan had given me. My hair tumbled down my back in loose curls, but the top was pulled up into a beautiful, pearl encrusted comb at the back of my head, with wispy, wavy tendrils hanging about my face. I wore tiny diamond studs in my ears- one of my father's gifts for my eighteenth birthday. My lips were a rosy, shimmering color, somewhere in between red and pink.
I wondered whether or not I needed to 'freshen up' too when Cara came out of the stall, muttering and readjusting her long gown around her legs. I clamped my mouth shut to keep from giggling- because now, I was feeling positively giddy. What with the small glass of wine I had drunk, and the glittering, grandeur atmosphere of the hotel, and the knowledge that I was really losing my mind since nothing was up with Ryan, I allowed myself a little giggle at Cara's expression.
"What's so funny?" She grumbled, rinsing off her hands in the sink. She met my dancing gaze in the reflection of the mirror and then we both laughed. There was nothing funny; I was just happy.
Cara spent quite a while reapplying her makeup and fixing, and then re-fixing her hair. I didn't complain; it was fun gabbing over makeup and trying on lipglosses- at least, with Cara it was. I must've laughed the entire time we were in there. She insisted she retouch my hair and makeup too, and that took another ten minutes, so by the time we finally left the bathroom, it had been about forty minutes.
Cara checked her watch then, and suddenly, we were in a hurry.
"What's the rush?" I asked, as she hurried me down the strangely empty corridor towards the ballroom. Where did everyone go? I wondered.
"No rush... we should just get back to the party, don't you think?" She said, her hand shaking in mine. I looked down at her hand, then up to her face, suddenly feeling like I was missing something. Her eyes were glittering strangely and now that I thought about it, she had been acting jittery all night. Not able to sit still for longer than five minutes, dancing from foot to foot when standing up, and squeezing my hand in hers a lot more often than normal.
"Um, Cara, is there something you're not telling me? I mean... maybe it's just me, but everyone is acting weird tonight." Maybe I was being paranoid but now, looking through my newly enlightened eyes, everyone's behavior that day seemed to be off. Mom had been teary-eyed whenever I looked at her, Dad was gruffer and a bit sterner than usual- and I caught him staring at me quite often throughout the day. Other than Cara (and Justin, for that matter- even he had his moments of weirdness) my siblings were fairly immune and acted normally, thank goodness.
"Are you crazy? What are you talking about?" She asked, giving me a look.
"Why's your hand shaking?" I asked flatly.
She ripped her hand out of mine. "I drank too much coffee today- you know how it gets me."
Right. I fell silent as we finally reached the huge wooden doors leading into the ballroom. Cara glanced at me, her hand on the handle of the door.
Her expression was one of excitement. I glared at her in confusion as a smile spread over her face and her eyes danced.
"Ready?"
I gave her a disbelieving look. "Um, yeah?"
She grinned, a little giggle escaped her mouth, and then she pulled open the doors.