Beginning with Forever (25 page)

Engele
na excitedly rolls a hanging rack with a black garment bag over to me to reveal my evening gown. She brags that it’s a Pucci haute couture gown designed especially for me. By the sound of her high pitched voice, I assume it’s a fashion privilege to have one of these unique gowns. There’s no doubt in my mind that Carson paid a handsome fee for it. Anything that’s paired with the words ‘haute couture’ is ridiculously expensive, according to Belle. I have to admit, it is truly captivating. It’s a black and purple asymmetric floor length dress with a lethal slit down the center. Engelena asks me to remove my gold necklace, so she can replace it with a large strand of amethyst rhinestones. She tells me that Carson picked it out especially for me. I hesitate briefly because I promised my mother that I’d never take it off.
It’s just for a few hours
. I persuade myself and then nod my head. She secures the latch behind my neck, and my new necklace is perfectly showcased between my breasts. It sparkles beautifully with purple amethysts and diamonds. Engelena hands me matching earrings to finish the look.

I was left with specific instructions from Carson
to wear a black lace bustier, panties, garter belt and thigh highs under my dress. Hmm, I wonder how he plans to the end the evening. I can’t wait to see him again.

M
y knees are nervously twitching up and down as I sit on the edge of my seat in Carson’s limo, alone. It’s only been a little over four hours, but I miss him like it’s been four days. I’ve never felt this glamorous in all my life, and I’m completely anxious about revealing my dull to fabulous makeover to Carson. Every time I’m with him, he makes me feel sexy and beautiful, so I’m driven to be all of that for him. Tonight I want him to see the stunning woman he always tells me I am. Gosh, just thinking about his reaction makes my heart pound with uncontainable excitement.

My patience is wearing thin as I watch
the limo driver slowly weave through Chicago’s congested traffic, to get me to Navy Pier. Time is extremely valuable to us. We only have till the end of this week and then Carson will return to his world without me. This crappy thought has been haunting me for the past three weeks now, and I’ve been struggling to push it out of my head. Separation shouldn’t be difficult for me since I’m used to being independent, but it is. I wish we could stretch our month out longer.

As we get closer
to the Pier, I see a long stretch of black limos barely inching forward, waiting to drop guests off for the event. If we continue at this rate, I’ll never get there on time. This will not make Carson happy because he’s not a patient man. Uh-oh, his ears must be burning from me thinking about him, my phone vibrates on cue in my clutch. I pull it out, and see a text message from him.

Lily, five more limos and then I
’ll see your beautiful face. X Carson

I’m shocked.
How does he know this information from the yacht? I can’t decide if I should feel comforted or invaded. I’m sure it’s for security reasons and not because he’s overly protective, I justify on his behalf. I wittingly reply to his text.

I’ll
be wearing your dress with black lacy thermals underneath because it’s cold without you. XOX Lily

Seconds
later, he replies.

I
f this is true, the styling crew will ALL be FIRED!!! And don’t you worry Angel, I know how to warm you up;) X Carson

His response makes me smile.
I can’t get there soon enough. His flirty texts make me more anxious to be with him.

My limo finally pulls up to a rope
d-off purple carpeted entrance. The chauffeur opens my door and lends me his hand. Whoa, it’s chilly and windy; goosebumps multiply in number, spreading all over my body. The evening sky glows brightly with gleaming diamond-shaped stars and a grayish-blue, crescent moon. I step out, hug my elbows against my chest and pace towards the yacht, hoping my feet won’t fail me in these ankle-killing heels. I take a second to admire how impressive the yacht is, giving her my respect. Her name is
Emily H.L.1997
. She’s grand and elaborately decorated for the event with garlands of purple lilac, fresh wisteria and hydrangeas stretched throughout her length. As I enter the yacht, I see every guest wearing a lavender and black color combo in honor of Hodgkin’s lymphoma. There are attendants at every corner with trays of champagne and light hors d’œuvres. I purposely walk past the alcohol. The sight of it makes my stomach turn upside down.

I feel so out of place and
alone as I look around for Carson. Where is he? This place is filled with tons of people and not a single person has bothered to extend a small gesture of hello to me. I thought he would be waiting for me as soon as I arrived, so I’m disappointed that he’s not here. My attention is suddenly turned to a robust gentleman who gently taps my shoulders from behind. “Hello my dear, I’m Michael Bradley. I’ve heard many lovely things about you, Miss Ly. Thank you for the wonderful care you’ve provided Carson,” he greets me warmly with kind blue eyes and a comforting smile, making me feel immediately welcomed.

“
Hello sir, I’m sorry I don’t know who you are,” I answer, hoping he’ll give me more details about his background. I deduce that he’s somehow related to Carson due to the common surname.

“I’
m Carson’s father. He wanted me and his mother to escort his love interest to the ballroom. The word
love
isn’t easy for my son.” He winks at me like I should understand his last comment. I smile and go with the flow. “I can understand why he’s completely smitten by you. Miss Ly, you’re an absolute gem.” I’m flattered by his sweet compliment.

“Thank you, Mr. Bra
dley. I can see where Carson gets his charm from,” I repay his compliment with one of my own. I think I just made his evening with my flattery because he has a contagious grin on his face that can lighten up this entire room.

“Shall we
, my dear? Carson is waiting for you in the ballroom,” he offers me his arm, and I happily take it. We stop at the top of a steep, curved stairway and wait for our names to be announced. I’m more anxious than ever to see Carson, knowing that he already told his parents about me. “Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bradley accompanied by Miss Lillian Ly.” Carson’s mother walks confidently over to us and links onto Mr. Bradley Sr.’s other arm. She’s purposely not looking at me, but I’m not sure why. I immediately get the feeling that she doesn’t like me. She’s big city glamour with flawless hairstyle and makeup. Her classy purple and black embroidered tulle gown probably came directly from Milan. Mr. Bradley has a proud smile spread across his face, escorting two elegantly dressed women in his arms. I’m thankful for his support because I don’t trust myself to make it safely down the steps in my three and a half inch Manolo Blahnik’s. I have no problem admitting that I wasn’t born graceful, which is why I’m a scholar and not an athlete or dancer.

I finally spot Carson’s handsome face among the
receiving line. I breathlessly admire how strikingly he stands out from everyone else in this room. My heart is hammering as the distance between us grows shorter. He locks his brilliant, hazel green eyes onto mine, and I feel his isolated attraction for me. The chemistry between us is so intense that just a single look from one another is all we need to stir the magnetism between us. Everyone else fades away in our private world.

He’s
sharply dressed in a black fitted tuxedo with a violet cancer ribbon attached to the lapel of his jacket. I formally shake everyone’s hands down the line until I reach his with heart-palpitating anticipation. He gently pulls me into his chest and whispers, “I look forward to rocking your boat tonight,” with no trace of humor on his suave face. I’ve had little practice compared to him and fail miserably to control my dignified composure. My face flushes crimson red as I offer him a timid smile. He presses his moist lips against my cheek and leaves one tender kiss. “Your beauty is an added gift to what you already offer me,” he compliments me with appreciation in his sparkling green eyes. I’m bubbling over the top from his response, but the feeling diminishes immediately. Our private moment of tenderness is abruptly interrupted by photographers. Continuous camera flashes from all directions blind me, creating bright white spots to appear in my vision. “I’ll be with you soon.” He kisses the back of my hand and releases me to greet the next guest. I reluctantly let him go, not wanting to be alone in a crowd full of arrogant strangers.

Mr. Bradley Sr.
walks over to me and guides me to his table with his arms around my shoulders. “Come sit with us, dear, while Carson welcomes his guests.” I gratefully follow him to his table. He pulls my chair out for me, and I sit down next to his wife. She appears more reserved with her feelings than he is, making me feel very unsure about her sentiments for me. The uncertain expression on her face doesn’t help matters either.

“L
illian, it’s nice to meet you,” she attempts to break the ice between us with a hint of tartness in her tone.

“It’s nice to meet you
too, Mrs. Bradley,” I timidly reply, praying she won’t eat me alive.

“W
hat are your plans after you finish your schooling and residency? Where do you see yourself living? How does Carson fit into your future?” she rattles off a series of very personal questions, demanding answers with her staring eyes. I feel interrogated as Carson’s mother grills me.

“I hope to organize
non-profit health clinics for underprivileged neighborhoods. As to where I’ll live, I guess it’ll all depend on where my job takes me. I really care for Carson, so I definitely see him in my future.” I give her my most honest response and hope for the best. My voice is on the shakier side even though I tried my best to keep it steady. Why does this woman intimidate me so badly?

“Impressive, you
r ambitions are incredibly high for someone your age.” There’s something in her tone that triggers anxiety and uneasiness in me.

“Thank you
, Mrs. Bradley,” I reply. She must have issues with my age or maybe she’s just being an overprotective mother. Her concerns are justifiable, but it still gives me angst.

The
emcee welcomes all guests to this charitable event and invites Carson to take the floor. He confidently emerges from the crowd and graciously greets his guests. Looking out to his audience, he finds my admiring eyes locked on him and his impressive stage presence. His eyes secretly smile back, singling me out like a spotlight. The event commences with a welcoming dance. Carson explains the tradition that started eight years ago to his audience. Names of female and male guests are randomly picked to couple them for the initial dance. This is a great opportunity for everyone to meet new people and develop friendships or business connections.

A tall
, curvy, brunette woman draws two guest names from two separate crystal vases etched with cancer ribbons. She hands the tags to the emcee, and he calls the couples’ names out loud. Carson’s name is announced first along with a Bianca Sorte. I look over at him with disheartened eyes. He appears upset, but hides his reaction well behind his impenetrable, public persona. I continue to patiently listen for my name. After the eleventh couple’s names are rattled off, I finally hear mine and then, “Hayden Carter, number twelve.” It can’t possibly be the same Hayden from elementary school. How coincidental would that be?

The
emcee instructs guests to meet their partners on the floor to begin the first dance. A tall, strapping man impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo and lilac bowtie advances towards me, breaking my death-grip stare of Carson. “Lily, is that you? I could never forget your beautiful face.” He picks me up, spins me around and gives me a heartfelt embrace. “You look as gorgeous as you did at prom.” His rock solid confidence dissipates as soon as he utters the word, ‘prom.’

I brush
it off quickly to smother his embarrassing memory. “Wow, look at you Hayden Carter, all matured and so handsome. You’ve even grown muscles too,” I giggle and tease him. “If only some of those high school girls you fantasized about can see you now,” I remind him. It’s so comforting to see a familiar face, especially Hayden of all people. I hate that we didn’t keep in touch over the past four years. Besides for Emi and Belle, Hayden is probably the next closest friend I have back in Indiana.

“Lily, I only had eyes for you
, but I was too shy to tell you. You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known. I wished I would’ve told you then, the night of our prom,” His eyes look modestly down to his feet.

I
immediately change the topic due to the awkward direction its heading. “So what brings you here, Hayden?” I curiously ask him, wondering how he ended up here at this function. The last time I spoke to his sister, I think she told me he was finishing up is Master’s degree at MIT.

“My
software company is a major sponsor and contributor for Mr. Bradley’s invaluable cause. My father died three years ago after losing his fight with lymphoma.” Gloominess shadows his spirited expression as he recalls his father’s death. I sense heartache in his voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Hayden.”
My heart goes out to him. I didn’t even know his father was sick. His little sister never even mentioned it when she use to come over to my house to sell Girl Scout cookies or have me tutor her in math because Hayden didn’t have any patience for her.