We all opted for up-dos and I had to say Poppy was rather skilled when it came to twisting my locks into messy, yet elegant affairs. My new earrings made the perfect complement to the pale blue of my dress.
Dr. Wright let us all borrow shoes and cashmere wraps since it was cold outside. I felt like I was shopping in a store when she took us into her closet. Poppy and I settled on silver platform heels and Sophia black ones. The sound of the bell sent my heart into my throat.
Dr. Wright touched Poppy’s arm to pause us. “Be safe, don't go off on your own, stick together. Bastian has our numbers and we have his and the number for the driver. Have fun!” She hugged each of us and then we heard Mr. Wright calling, “The gentlemen have arrived.”
As we started down the stairs, I saw Shawn and Tyler first. Both wore black suits, but their shirts and ties matched their dates’ dresses. Dr. Wright's smile was her only response to her subterfuge. I looked at Bastian only to find he was already watching me. He was also dressed in black and his shirt and tie were the palest of blues. His hair framed his beautiful face. We might not get prom together, but this was so much better.
“You look stunning, Lark.”
“So do you.”
Reaching for my hand, he pressed his lips to my knuckles and held my gaze a moment before he looked behind me to Mr. and Dr. Wright.
“We should be home by one, but if we're longer, I'll call you.”
“Have fun and keep our girls safe.”
He shook Mr. Wright's hand. “You have my word.”
Once we were seated in the spacious limo, Bastian asked. “Are you ready?”
“More than ready.”
He fingered the diamonds in my ears. “As soon as Dr. Wright showed me these, I knew they were perfect for you.”
“You really have been busy.”
“To make your birthday special, absolutely.” There it was again, the feeling of belonging, and to think it was with this incredible guy who made me feel it.
***
The limo pulled up in front of a brownstone where gas lanterns lit the entrance and a discreet, but elegant sign revealed the place to be an art gallery. When I saw the name of the artist being featured, I felt excitement coursing through me.
David Cambre had been, in my opinion, the finest artist of our time—focused on sculpting work. I had always wanted to view his pieces more closely, but it was hard to get into his shows when he was alive. After his tragic death a few years ago, it was now impossible.
“How did you manage this?” I asked Bastian.
“I have friends who have friends and the Wrights insisted on helping,” was all he said.
“How did you know I loved David?”
“You've mentioned him a time or two and I confirmed with Ms. Whitney.”
I had no words, how well this boy knew me and in so short a time. He seemed to understand as he leaned forward to skim his lips over mine.
“Happy birthday, Lark.”
***
After the show we went to Per Se, a posh restaurant uptown from the gallery. Once our orders were placed, I leaned into Bastian close enough that our shoulders brushed. “This has been the best birthday, ever.”
His lips touched my temple and though he didn't say anything, his eyes were saying plenty.
“I have to say, David Cambre looked so much like you, it's no wonder why you adopted him as your wanna-be dad,” Poppy said as she reached for her glass.
It was true I had. It was kind of pathetic but for the lost and lonely kid I had been, the pretend connection had comforted me.
“Right? Especially with both of us being artists. When he died, I mourned for him like he was.”