Allegiant (25 page)

His face relaxes. “Sorry.”

I close my book and push it aside. “What
brings you by tonight?”

James looks around the room. “Well, there’s
a football game on…”

My mouth falls open dramatically. “You’re
using me for my television?”

“
We can snuggle,” he offers
with a smile.

I smirk. “Anything to get your way.” I push
myself off the bed, extend my hand, and lead him to the living
room. I hate watching football. But James is here, we’re no longer
fighting, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

I reach the couch before James does, and he
pulls my hand back so I turn to face him. He reaches out and places
his free hand around the base of my neck, under my hair, and holds
my head gently as he lowers his lips to mine. My heart wants to
burst.

“
You didn’t get enough of
this last night?” I tease when he moves to kiss my
forehead.

“
I love you,” he says
against me.

“
I love you, too,” I say,
and it’s the truth. Football, control freak, Guardian, and all.
I’ll always love him.

Until the end of forever.

“
Wow.”

Shel leans in to me. “When I helped set up
the tables yesterday, this room looked nothing like this,” she
whispers.

Shel and I stand like statues, mouths agape,
as we survey the ballroom for the hospital charity dinner. Dressed
in black pants, white tuxedo shirts, black vests and bowties, I
have to say we resemble penguins. I clutch the round serving tray
in my hands and swallow. I’ve never been to an event this
fancy.

I was mistaken in thinking that the dinner
was taking place at the actual hospital. Instead, it’s at an
upscale hotel in the area, called The Inn at St. John’s, which is
just outside the city of Ann Arbor. The room is set for roughly 350
guests, all from prestigious local and international organizations.
Each business has their own table or tables, distinctly marked with
their company names and logos inside tall, fall-themed centerpieces
that are lit from within. The tables hold more china than I thought
imaginable for one dinner, and they are draped to the floor in
cloths that alternate in rich autumn hues from chocolate brown to
emerald green to rusty red. The chairs are covered as well, in the
same deep tones, each with a precisely tied caramel colored bow.
The chandeliers in the ballroom are dimly lit, which allows the
centerpieces and tea lights on each table give off the feeling of a
more intimate dinner. A string quartet tunes their instruments in
one corner; while in another, bartenders busy themselves stocking
liquor and wiping glasses.

As my eyes roam the room, I find a long
buffet table that is currently being filled with every hors
d’oeuvre you can think of. A tall ice sculpture bearing the
University of Michigan hospital logo graces the center of the
buffet, of which I can see the base being filled with jumbo shrimp
and oysters on the half shell. The coordinator for the event, Dana,
told us volunteers that we are to clear the empty hors d’oeuvre
plates as we find them, along with any empty glasses, and return
them to the kitchen. Later, after dinner, the table will be filled
with desserts and we’ll be on the same mission. During dinner, we
are to clear empty plates and retrieve drinks from the bar when
asked. She said we’d be able to eat as thanks for our service, so
I’m really looking forward to trying some of this food. My mind
wanders to Garrett. He would love something like this; although, he
would probably choose to spend all of his time in the kitchen.

Dana claps her hands. “Okay, happy
volunteers,” she says. “Our guests should start arriving any
minute.” She divides our group down the center with a sweeping
gesture. “This half works the right side of the room, this half the
left.” She eyes two women standing over to the side, dressed in
navy pencil skirts and white blouses. “Aubrey and Sydney, you two
start with coat check and handle the rush. I’ll switch you out when
dinner starts.”

We disperse to our sides of the room and
luckily, Shel and I get the side with the hors d’oeuvre table. I
get an up close and personal look, taking in all of the varieties
of pre-dinner snacks. There’s your typical cheese and crackers,
although intricately displayed in a waterfall effect, and crudité
with a variety of dips. Mini quiche. Any and all kinds of fruit.
The shrimp and the oysters. Caviar. Different variations of
meatballs. Salmon pate. Bacon wrapped chicken bites. It’s endless.
I lean over to Shel. “Who can eat this much food?” I ask. “What’s
left for dinner?”

Shel shrugs. “Rich people? I guess when you
pay $350 a plate, you get your money’s worth.”

“
$350 a plate?” Holy
crap!

As the room starts to fill with the first
partygoers, the quartet begins to play. I’m surprised by their
first piece. “‘Is this Pumped Up Kicks?’” I ask Shel.

She tips her head toward the music then
raises her eyebrows in appreciation. “Sounds like it,” she says.
“Not bad. Who knew Foster the People was a popular instrumental
choice?”

I smile and turn my attention to the filling
room. The men wear business suits, some with bright colored ties
while others leave their collars open. The women are dressed in an
array of different styles from cocktail dresses, to skirts, to
dressy slacks, and tops. As the guests approach the food table, I
can’t help but notice that no one forgot their jewelry tonight.
Necklaces, bracelets, rings, wristwatches and cuff links all manage
to catch the dim light and reflect it. I’m beginning to think this
dinner is more for show than charity.

“
So,” Shel asks, “have you
decided?”

My forehead pinches. “About what?”

“
When you’re going to see
Dane again.”

I give her an exasperated look. We had this
discussion in depth last night when I arrived, after I told her
about my run in with Teagan at the Halloween party and the
resulting conversation and kiss with Dane. “No. I haven’t
decided.”

“
Well,” she lifts her tray,
“spend this mindless night thinking about it. I’m off to collect
dirty dishes.”

I raise my tray as well and follow her lead,
winding my way through the tables in the opposite direction. As I
walk, I think about the conversation we had last night. I got no
useful advice at all from Shel in regard to Dane. There’s not one
reason she can think of for me to end what I started with him. I
hate that I am in this situation all alone. At some point I’m going
to have to be the bad guy, and I wish there was one human that
could understand why.

I spend the cocktail hour clearing more
empty glasses than plates. Turns out, wealthy benefactors like to
drink, especially vodka martinis and scotch on the rocks. As I burn
another path in the carpet to the kitchen, a man in my periphery
catches my attention. I slow my walk. Is he staring at me? I blink
and continue on my path. No. That’s impossible.

My next round through the room yields yet
more glasses and a run-in with Shel. “How’s it going?” I ask.

“
This is a lot of work!”
she says. “No wonder they’re feeding us.”

I agree. I fill my tray as full as I dare
and make another trip to the kitchen. Not thinking, I take the same
route as before and pass the same gentleman. I could swear he’s
watching me again. I get brave and try to meet his eyes, which he
quickly shifts to another person standing in his group. Who is this
guy? I’ve never seen him before.

After I empty my tray in the dish area, I
wait around for Shel to appear. When she rounds the corner, I
approach her side. “Hey.”

“
Hey,” she says as she
empties her tray.

“
Look, I’m probably
imagining things, but I swear there is a guy out there staring at
me.”

Shel’s eyes light up. “Oh! Is he cute?”

“
No! He’s an older guy,
probably my dad’s age.”

Shel frowns. “Creeper.”

“
Come out there with me and
see if I’m being paranoid.”

“
Okay,” she says. “Where is
he at? What does he look like?”

We start to walk. “He’s standing with a
group a few feet from the kitchen entrance. He’s about James’
height, with black hair and a mustache.”

“
James’ height?” Shel asks
me, surprised.

“
Yes, James’ height. Why is
that weird?”

She shrugs. “It’s just…you haven’t mentioned
him in awhile. It’s odd hearing his name.”

If she only knew. “C’mon,” I say and refuse
to elaborate on my choice of description. “I’ll walk near him and
you watch.”

We exit the kitchen, and I spot the guy
still standing with the group. I head toward him, yet parallel, and
Shel heads opposite me. I busy myself collecting plates and
glasses, and I swear I can feel eyes on me. They might be Shel’s
though, and I may just be hyper-sensitive to the situation. I walk
further into the room, looking amongst the tables, picking up an
item here or there and eventually make my way back to Shel’s
side.

“
So?” I ask.

“
He is definitely staring
at you.”

Ick. “Why?” I ask like she will have the
answer.

“
How am I supposed to know?
Are you sure you’ve never seen him before? Maybe he recognizes you
from Bay Woods.”

“
Shel, you’re a genius.
That has to be it.” Where else would I have run into someone with
money?

The string quartet ends their latest song,
and our attention is drawn to their set up as Dana speaks into the
microphone. She asks everyone to find their seats as dinner will be
served momentarily. Shel and I balance our trays through the crowd
that converges on the center of the room, and we slowly make our
way back toward the kitchen. As we pass the last group of tables, I
can’t help but notice the man taking his seat. My eyes jump to the
company name inside the centerpiece, and my stomach drops through
the floor. The business name is Legionnaire.

“
It’s Dane’s boss!” I
whisper to Shel, as we wait with the other volunteers along the
back of the room while the Caesar salad is being served. “It has to
be.”

Shel looks wary. “Maybe, maybe not. He could
just be someone who works there. Besides, how would he know who you
were?”

“
I told you he threatened
to fire Dane if he didn’t marry his daughter. Maybe Teagan showed
him a picture of me or something.”

Shel questions my logic. “She would go
through that trouble? What, did she put an APB out on you?”

I give her a dry look. “I
wouldn’t put it past her. She
does
not
like me.”

“
Still,” Shel sounds
unsure, “if it is him, what’s he going to do? He’s probably just
checking out his daughter’s competition.”

I roll my eyes. “Great.” I look down at my
outfit and tray. “I can just imagine what he’ll report back.”

Dana approaches us and divides us down the
center again. Half of us get to eat while the other half clears the
room, and then we’ll switch. Thankfully, Shel and I are selected
for the eating group, and I can avoid Mr. Meyer for the next hour.
We head to the kitchen to collect our plates and then take a seat
in a small meeting room at another location in the hall. Dinner is
amazing, even though I’m nervous as all heck and can only manage to
eat half of what I’m given. I feel really guilty about it, too.
There are people who would kill to have filet mignon and lobster
tail for free.

Halfway through the meal, I hear James’
voice behind my ear. “What’s bothering you?”

I turn to Shel. “I need to use the restroom.
I’ll be right back.”

When I locate the bathroom, I bend down to
make sure the stalls are empty. When I turn around, James has
already appeared behind me.

“
You know you’re in the
ladies room,” I tease.

He gives me a crooked smile. “What’s going
on?”

“
I think Teagan’s dad his
here,” I tell him. “He’s been staring at me. I don’t know what that
means, but it makes me really uncomfortable.”

“
Teagan, Dane’s fiancée?”
James scowls.

“
Ex-fiancée. Her father is
Dane’s boss and his company has a table at the party.”

His frown deepens. “Have you met him
before?”

“
Never. Shel thinks the guy
might not even be him, just some dude who works at the same
company.”

“
Hmm,” James contemplates.
“I don’t like this. I’m going to stay close.”

My eyes widen. “Do you think there’s going
to be trouble?”

“
Not necessarily. But what
if this guy turns out to be some creep?”

Right. One Patrick-type in my life was
enough. “Okay,” I agree. “Stay close.”

He steps forward and plants a kiss on the
top of my head. “I’ll be around,” he says and evaporates.

When the time comes to go back to clearing,
I really don’t want to. Even though knowing James is near makes me
feel better, I don’t want to be forced to strategically avoid this
strange man for the rest of the night. So when Dana asks our group
who would be interested in helping in the coatroom, I immediately
volunteer.

“
Good idea,” Shel nods in
agreement. She knows I’m anxious. “Let’s get through this so we can
go home and relax.”

The coatroom turns out to be incredibly
boring, but easy; I spend my time straightening jackets and wraps.
It’s just me, seeing as how the guests will leave sporadically.
Dana said she might send Aubrey or Sydney back at the end of the
night to help with any rush. People start to leave in small spurts
immediately after dinner, which keeps me occupied. I’m busy spacing
out the remaining coats, now that there is a little more room to
spread them out, when a voice interrupts my OCD.