“I think tonight …” I trail off, then clear my throat and tell him what I’ve been thinking all last night and today. “I think tonight, I will show them that I’m all right and I prove people can have second chances. And then I can walk away if I want, knowing I at least said goodbye in a way that makes me feel like I did what I needed to.”
His brow furrows when he asks, “Is that what you want?”
Nodding repeatedly, I swallow the lump in my throat. This is the goodbye I want to leave them with. A pretty dress. A pretty smile. And telling the world how happy I am to be here. Even after everything that’s happened, I want to tell them what a wonderful night it is to be alive.
“It is. I really have to do this.” Another kiss and Z wraps a strong arm around my waist, kissing my bare shoulder and whispering, “Then let's get on with it, my little bird.”
He leads the way and my heart rampages, the rapid thumps growing louder and louder in my ears as we get closer to the event.
“Ella!”
“Eleanor!”
The photographers call out my name and I face each of them with Z behind me and then at my side. The first snaps are posed. Then I grab Z by the tie, surprising him and kissing his cheek and then his lips while the bright lights flood the area.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Z says and smirks, both of us very aware the cameras are still flashing.
All I offer him is a simper. They can photograph me kissing this man all night long if they wanted.
The calls of my name, the laughter and white noise—I’ve been here before, but it feels different now. It’s broken, part of it like heaven and the other side hell.
“Eleanor, my love!” Charlie, the reporter Kam handpicked, motions for me and I escape to him, knowing there’s a drink and sanctuary after this moment.
“Charlie.” I greet him by reaching out and holding on to his left arm, the one not holding the mic. I give a half hug with a wide smile and there’s a flash and then another as a paparazzo captures the moment. “I’ve missed you,” I say, keeping my tone playful and my voice loud enough to be heard over the gaggle of people around us.
“Oh, not as much as I’ve missed you.” We air-kiss on each cheek as we’ve done since I was only a teenager before I release him and take a step back where Z gathers my arm around his.
“And this is your …” Charlie questions immediately, getting right to the point and eyeing Zander.
“My knight in shining armor,” I answer with a simper and then add, “Well, in Armani, but you know my tastes are little more grown up than fairy-tale stories.”
Charlie laughs at my joke and I peek up to see Z smirking, handsome as hell and for a moment it all fades into the background. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of this. This very moment and yet all I want to do is steal away with him now.
“Do you have any exclusive details you could offer me?” Charlie questions with a raised brow, holding the microphone out for me. “Maybe?” He pushes forward and I debate for only a second.
“I think I may be in love,” I tell him and then look back at Z to find him smiling down at me. I don’t know if he’s playing his part perfectly or if he just happens to be perfect.
“Oh my!” Charlie’s eyes go wide and I laugh.
“Got to go, my love,” I tell him and turn slightly to leave.
“Anything you can tell us about the launch tonight before you go?”
“It’s going to be thrilling,” I answer him and then add, “This designer is to die for.”
“Have a drink for me, Ella,” Charlie calls out as I take two side steps toward the house.
I’m quick to reply with my normal response, “I’ll have two!”
As Z leads me away, toward the front foyer where warmth is already pouring into the night, he whispers comically at the shell of my ear, “The hell you will,” and I let out a genuine laugh.
* * *
The chandeliers are breathtakingin the dimly lit expansive space. Kelly’s open floor plan has been rearranged and redesigned just for tonight. With a raised runway running through her living room, the floor-to-ceiling glass doors are all open, allowing the runway to end in her perfectly manicured backyard. Every piece of furniture is white, blending into the marble floors. The black runway provides a stark contrast that’s truly stunning and half the guests are already seated, the other half chatting and drinking and laughing. Everyone is dressed in creams, golds and black.
Kelly shakes her hands out before accepting two martinis, garnished with olives, from a silver platter. The theme of tonight is Sex and the City chic and I am here for it. And somehow dressed appropriately.
“It’s a great turnout,” I tell her as I sneak up behind her, kissing her cheek.