Beyond Layers: Layer Series Book Four (Layers Series 4) (17 page)

I nod. “Is that bar made out of ice?”

“Sure is. Erica and John represented the team last year and she’s still talking about the bar, the food, and the people.”

I take in the opulent room and the elegantly dressed NYC elite. “I didn’t expect there to be so many people here.”

“It’s
the
charity dinner of the year. Oh, my God. Look over there.” She points. “Isn’t that… oh shit, what is his name?”

“I don’t know. That actor guy.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Help me find our table, Romano.”

A man sporting a gray tux and a headset greets us. “Good evening and welcome. May I help you find your table?”

“Yes, please,” Allie says. “The Rangers’ table.”

“One moment.” He talks into his headset. “This is Ron. I need the Rangers table.” There’s a brief pause. “Copy that. Mrs. Allie Hutchings, Mr. Logan Romano, please follow me.”

We walk through a maze of tables and people.

“Here you are.” He pulls a chair out for Allie.

“Thank you,” she says, and sits.

He nods toward me as I sit next to her. “You will be sharing your table with two couples from the Rushman Foundation.”

Allie and I nod as if we know who or what the Rushman Foundation is.

“May I get you something from the bar, Mrs. Hutchings?”

“Sparkling water would be great.”

He nods. “And you, Mr. Romano?”

“Scotch, neat.”

He smiles. “Excellent. Your server will be back with your drinks momentarily, dinner starts promptly at seven thirty.” He nods and takes his leave.

We look at each other and laugh.

I take in the ice sculpture of a hockey player that sits in the middle of our table. “Man, that’s the coolest ice sculpture ever.”

“Every table has a unique sculpture,” Allie informs me as she looks around the room.

“I so need to take a pic and send it to Matt.” I unbutton my tux to retrieve my phone.

Allie grabs my hand. “Don’t you dare, Romano. They’re not kidding when they say no unofficial pictures. Erica told me that last year someone at the Governor’s table took a picture with their phone and they were escorted out by security.”

I raise a brow to that.

“Remember me telling you about the Italian restaurant Matt and I waited forever to get into?”

“Yeah, you said the best raviolis, ever. Better than my grandmothers,” I mock.

“I hate to say it, but they were. Anyway, the restaurant is called Polo and they cater this event.”

“How much a plate?”

She gestures a zero. “It’s a thank-you dinner for those involved with the Karen Ames Foundation.”

I look down at the stitched gold
G
s
on our tablecloth. “I though you said it was for the Grant Foundation?”

“The Ames Foundation is one of many foundations associated with Grant International.”

“Grant International? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a huge public and privately held conglomerate. I’ve personally never met any of the Grants; they’re different.”

“How so?”

“They’re closed off.”

“They’re snobs?”

“No, I didn’t say that. They like their privacy. Take great pains to remain out of the spotlight. I’ve heard they detest the press, especially the paparazzi. And well, you’ve seen the security. I think it might have to do with what happened a couple of years ago.”

“What happened?”

“It’s all hearsay and gossip, but someone was shot and killed at a party the Grants hosted about three years ago.”

Our server arrives with our drinks. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Just in case,” Allie says, “where are the restrooms?”

She smiles. “There are several but the closest is directly left of the entry.”

“Thank you.”

She nods and leaves us.

I take a sip of scotch. It’s rich and smooth, reminding me of the scotch Sam drinks.

“Since when do you drink scotch?”

I smile.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s what Sam drinks.”

I nod.

“Have you heard from her?”

Big frown. “No.”

“Well after what you did, I doubt you will.”

“In my defense, I had no clue as to where Shawna was seating her.”

She takes a sip of her water, rolling her eyes at me again. “Oh, come on, Romano. You must have known she’d seat her in the balcony with your Juliets.”

“I didn’t know that shit followed me to New York.”

“Yeah, right. I told you the Tweedles moved to New York.”

“Yeah, but I had no idea the stupid Romeo balcony followed me from Raleigh.”

“Logan, the Romeo balcony started in college and will follow you wherever you go.”

“The whole thing is just stupid. I’ve never even had sex with the Tweedles.”

“It doesn’t matter what hole you stick your dick into, it’s sex.”

“I disagree and so does Bill Clinton.”

She sits back in her chair and lifts her chin at me. “Okay, Romano. Let’s say, hypothetically, Sam went down on a guy last night. Gave him the best BJ of his life.”

“Are you trying to make me lose my friggin’ mind?”

“No. I’m trying to make a point.”

“All right. Point, Allie. But in my defense it’s been years since the Tweedles came anywhere near my dick.”

“If I were sitting at a game near one of Matt’s old puck bunnies, I wouldn’t be happy about it, even if it had been ten years since they were last
acquainted
.”

“All right. I fucked up.”

“I must say I like this Sam of yours. Setting you up like that… classic. I would have paid a million dollars to see the look on your face when you walked into your hotel room.”

“I’d pay a million dollars to obliterate the scene from my mind.” It’s been two weeks since I found the Tweedles lying nude, all but spread-eagle on my bed. When I told them it was a mistake, a misunderstanding, they refused to leave. I had to have security escort them out. The old me would have jumped right into a foursome, even with the Tweedles. Now, just the thought of it makes me ill.

“Sam had every right to be mad and upset. I can just imagine what was going through her head. George told me the Stepfords were baring their claws, making Sam and her a little nervous.”

“Al, I feel terrible about what happened. I can just imagine what she must think of me. None of it good.”

“So what’s your next move, Romeo?”

“I’m going to hire that PI I told you about. And when he finds her, I’m going to get down on my knees and beg her to forgive me.”

Two other couples join our table and introduce themselves. We chat for a few minutes before the lights dim and the orchestra stops playing.

Allie squeezes my hand. “I’m so excited. I could pee my panties.”

I smile.
Please don’t.

“Thanks for coming with me, Logan. I know how you hate these things, but I sincerely appreciate it. You’re no substitute for Matt, but you do look mighty fine in a tux.”

I chuckle. Typical Allie. A well placed jab and a compliment in the same sentence. “I’m sorry he couldn’t make it, Al.”

She nods. “And I’m sorry about Sam. Matt and Krissy can’t stop talking about her and her friend Jules. Sam’s done the impossible, ya know.”

“Impossible?”

“She’s claimed and has begun to mend your heart, Logan. A heart that has been empty and broken for so long, I didn’t think it was mendable.”

I squeeze her hand. “Neither did I. I will find her, and make things right.”

She nods.

Applause commences and we look up at the podium.

A stunning woman stands behind it and the applause slowly dies down.

“Good evening, and welcome,” she says, and pauses, taking a moment to look around the room. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Alexia Grant-Ryan, co-founder and co-chair of the Karen Ames Foundation.”

More applause.

She holds up her hand. “Please, no need to applaud me anymore,” she teases.

Everyone laughs.

“No, seriously. If you do, I’ll be on my feet for too long, and my husband will strangle each and every one of you.”

“You got that right, babe,” yells a man sitting at one of the front tables.

Everyone claps or whistles. Allie does a
whop, whop,
and all but jumps out of her seat. “Oh, my God, he spoke.”

“Who?”

She points to a man with a goatee. “That’s Jaxson Ryan, Alexia’s husband and co-CEO of Grant International. He was voted the hottest bachelor in Manhattan three years running.
He was featured in
GQ
a few years ago. And let me tell you, I’ll never throw that issue away, ever.”

I roll my eyes.

The women sitting to Allie’s right leans toward her. “I don’t know any woman in New York who doesn’t have a copy of that issue.”

They giggle.

I roll my eyes again and look back up at the podium.

“Tonight, I ask only one thing from you.” She pauses. “Okay, that’s not true. I ask two things from you. First, pat yourselves on the back for a job well done. The Karen Ames Foundation raised eighty million this year.”

Everyone cheers.

Allie leans toward me and whispers, “The Grants match every dollar, so that’s $160 million.”

I nod.

“Second, enjoy yourselves tonight. This is your night. So stop playing with your phone; better yet, turn the damn thing off.”

Everyone claps and cheers.

“Let your hair down a bit, or if you’re like me, take your shoes off.”

More laughter.

“Hair up or down, shoes on or off, relax, eat, drink, converse, dance, have fun and return to your homes safely.”

More applause.

“Before I turn the podium over to my sister, I want all of you to know there are no just or accurate words to truly express my and my family’s gratitude, for your dedication, your time, and your generosity. So I’ll simply say, thank you.” She pauses again, looking down at one of the front tables. “My dear sister. You’ve been the muscle, the brains, and the heart and soul of this foundation. I want you to know how much I appreciate you, how damn proud I am of you, and how very much I love you.”

She smiles and wipes tears off her cheek. “Please, everyone, stand and give a warm and healthy applause and shout-out to my beautiful sister, Samantha Grant.”

Everyone stands, claps, and cheers. As she makes her way to her seat, I notice why her husband doesn’t want her standing: she’s very pregnant.

I take a sip of scotch and choke on it. It damn near goes up my nose.

Allie pats my back. “Are you okay?”

Looking up at the podium, I can’t answer. I’m stunned utterly stupid.

“Good evening,” she says. “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

Allie looks over at me as I stare at my angel. “Oh. My. Hell, Logan. Is Samantha Grant… is she your Sam?”

I nod. Or at least I think I did.

She leans in to me. “Holy fuck-my-cannoli! You had Shawna sit Samantha Grant in the balcony with your Juliets. Samantha Grant, one of the hottest, most sought-after bachelorettes in the world was sitting next to the Tweedles and Stepfords.”

“Yep.”

“Jesus, Logan. She’s
the
Samantha Grant. She’s like this super smart, talented architectural engineer. She dates dukes and barons and movie stars. Her grandmother is
Lady
Grant. Her sister is Alexia Grant. He brother-in-law is Jaxson Ryan. She’s like a… goddess. A millionaire goddess.”

The woman sitting across from us shakes her head. “Thirty billion.”

Allie’s mouth gapes open. “Thirty billion!”

The woman looks over at me. “Do you know Samantha Grant?”

“Sort of.”

Allie snorts.

“Oh, God. This is good, but so bad. Please tell me I’m dreaming.”

Allie shakes her head. “Sorry, Romano. You’re not.”

Everyone laughs and I realize I have no idea what Sam has said.

“Before I continue, there are two individuals I’d like to thank. Without them, the Karen Ames Foundation simply wouldn’t be. Mr. Steven Kemp, would you please stand.”

A man sitting at one of the front tables stands. Everyone applauds.

“For those few who don’t know our dear Steven, he is the manager, the caretaker,
the man
behind the Karen Ames Foundation.”

Steven says something; I don’t catch it, but whatever he said made people clap and laugh.

“Ms. Sienna Black, would you please stand.” A woman sitting next to Mr. Kemp stands and everyone applauds. “For those few unlucky souls who don’t know Sienna, I feel truly sorry for you. Not only is she Steven’s assistant, lifesaver, and goddess divine, Sienna’s one of the hardest-working and
the
most organized person I’ve ever met.” Everyone who’s in on the joke laughs.

The couple sits and Sam continues. “Tonight is a celebration and thank you for your dedication and hard work. This year, as a foundation we have accomplished many things and surpassed many of our goals. I’m going to name just a few projects that I’ve personally been involved with this past year. We’ve given sixty thousand individuals clean drinking water through the Hope Project. We have joined forces with Big World Hunger Project, a foundation that enables communities not only to grow their own food for consumption, but also to sustain a living. We’ve opened the second Lane Gray Community Center in Brooklyn; a community-run center that provides breakfast and dinner to five hundred kids, as well as after-school projects, classes, and counseling for four hundred and counting. And just this past July we opened the—” She pauses, as if collecting herself. “We opened phase two of the Karen Ames Women’s Cancer Center. A project that is very personal and dear to my sister and me. The center provides counseling, support, and accommodations for women who have come from across the nation and all over the world to New York for cancer treatment.”

Everyone stands and applauds.

After a minute, everyone sits and she continues. “We have done great things but for every great thing there are thousands of others who deserve and need our dedication, our knowledge, our hard work, our generosity, and our hearts. As you celebrate tonight, I ask for you to stop, for just a moment and give thanks for what you have as an individual, as part of a family, as a member of the community, and as a citizen of this great nation. And then ask yourself, what can I do to make the world a better place, as an individual, as part of a family, as a member of the community, and as a citizen of this great nation.”