Surrender to Me (2 page)

Harper
and V have a strong dislike for one another, I dare say hatred. The feeling is
reciprocated, and they only ‘get along’ for my sake. I know if I wasn’t around,
they both would happily murder each other and not think twice about it. This is
going to be an awkward couple of weeks.

“I
have a chauffeur booked to drive us to the hotel. You went to all this trouble
for nothing,” Harper says sarcastically.

“Well
you can go with your driver as I’m only here for Ava,” V rebukes while reaching
for my travel bag, and throwing it over her shoulder smugly.

“V!”
I scold.

“What?
He’s obviously got his knickers in a knot about the driver, I am only trying to
be helpful,” she replies shrugging.

She
is not trying to be helpful at all.

Harper
kisses the top of my head, knowing he has lost this battle with V.

“I’ll
meet you at the hotel,” he says, and walks off as he spots the driver with his
little sign.

“See
ya, jackass!” V shouts, waving mockingly at Harper, who glares at her over his
shoulder.

“Veronica!”
I chew out.

“What?”
she replies innocently.

“You
could have at least waited until he couldn’t hear you.”

“Why?
I don’t care. I want him to hear me. What’s he going to do, hate me more than
he already does? Pleasseee, that ship has sailed,” she laughs while making a
beeline for the exit, and I follow with a small smile on my face.

This
is my friend, the little firecracker that is Veronica Donovan. I really don’t
know why I am surprised, as she was actually a lot nicer than I thought she
would be.

We
finally find her car after roaming the parking lot aimlessly for twenty
minutes, and as I am attempting to jam my luggage into her tiny VW, I notice a
sparkly something blinding me as it catches the sunlight.

Her
engagement ring.

“V,
your ring is stunning,” I gasp, looking at her beautiful, white gold solitaire
engagement ring.

“Thanks.
Isn’t it just beautiful? Lucas picked it out all on his own. He knows me too
well,” she replies while holding out her hand, looking at the stunning diamond.

I
flinch, wishing I could say the same thing about Harper.

“Where’s
Lucas?”  I ask, hopping into the passenger seat.

She
starts up the car, which she has had forever, and I love this car as it brings
back so many memories- good memories.

“Lucas
is organizing the entertainment. I have no idea what he’s got planned, but
that’s his one and only job, so he better not screw it up,” V replies with a
playful smirk as she looks into her mirror.

I
know that look.

“V?”
I question as I look over my shoulder, wondering why her eyes are twinkling in
mischief.

But
she ignores me and frantically makes a right hand turn, zipping out into
traffic and cutting off Harper’s driver.

What
am I going to do with this girl? Good to see some things never change.

“Why
are you dressed like that?” she asks looking over at me, scrunching up her
face.

She
never ceases to surprise me with her candor.

“Like
what?” I reply, knowing exactly what she means.

“Like
you have a huge stick up your butt. Where’s your Converse? Don’t get me wrong,
you look smokin,’ but a little too proper for me.”

Looking
down at my clothes, I know they are prim, but I feel guilty not wearing them,
as they cost way too much money to just sit in my closest, collecting dust.

“I
like my clothes. Besides, I need to wear stuff like this for work.” I cringe as
soon as the words escape my lips as it’s a lame ass excuse.

“You
work in a kitchen, cooking Ava.” V looks over at me with that damn incredulous
look in her eye. “Yes, I respect it’s a restaurant they charge you for the air
you breathe, but seriously, you wear an apron most of the time, so what’s the
go?”

I
knew V would start this, and I was actually going to change before I saw her.
But being the spur-of-the-moment kinda gal that she is, she foiled my plans. I
pay no attention to my subconscious, which is yelling at me to analyze why I
would do that.

LA
has already given me a headache!

“You
haven’t answered my question,” V says, tapping the steering wheel with her
pointer finger, awaiting my response. 

She
won’t let this slide, and I really don’t want to do this with my best friend
who I haven’t seen for months. I am tired and my excuses are transparent, so I
decide in this circumstance, honesty is the best policy.

“Because
Harper bought them for me.”

V
slaps the steering wheel angrily, which results in her swerving abruptly. I
hold onto the door handle for support, while checking my seat belt is buckled
in tightly. At this rate, I will be arriving at The Four Seasons with a severe
case of whiplash!

“I
knew it! Seriously, we’re back here again? I was afraid you’d say something
like that. Ava, have you not learnt your lesson?” V spits while blowing out a
frustrated breath.

Turning
to look at her with a gaze that clearly states I am in no mood to talk about
this, she surprisingly stops with the inquisition.

And
that lasts for about thirty seconds.

“Well
thank God I still have time to convince you that Harper is still the jerk he
always was, before you go and do something stupid and marry the bastard. He’s
maybe a little better dressed, but he’s still a jerk.”

Luckily
she doesn’t notice my stiff upper lip, or my finger with the faint engagement
ring indentation. The missing diamond in question is stowed away in my purse,
which I stashed when I went outside to make my alleged phone call.

Welcome
home Ava, I internally mumble while staring out the window, at the place I used
to call home.

Chapter 2

Four Seasons

V
drops me off in front of the intimidating
building that is, The Four Seasons hotel. She looks extremely unimpressed with
my home for the next couple of weeks. A concierge walks down the long
undercover walkway, discreetly fanning his nose, as V’s old VW is smoking out
the place. A few snooty guests look at us appalled, and I have an urge to poke
my tongue out at them, but resist-only just.

Giving
V a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek, she says, “Don’t forget we have dress
fittings tonight okay.” And here comes bridezilla.

“Yes
I know, you have reminded me like fifty times, I’ll be there,” I nod,
reassuringly.

V
looks at me apprehensively. “Are you sure? I know the wedding is going to be
hard on you because of Jasp...”

Quickly
cutting her off, not wanting to hear his name, I reply, “Of course I’m sure. I
need to try on my dress. And by the way, it better not be a pink puffy
meringue,” I warn playfully, cocking my eyebrow at her. 

V
only laughs, thankfully ignoring the J Bomb slip.

“Hey,
I forgot to ask you. Who is the best man?” I query, totally shameful for not
showing more interest in my partner to be.

V
gives me a strained smile. “Oh…um…” V lost for words, never a good sign.

“It’s
Lucas’ brother Abel,” she says in a rushed breath.

“Abel?
He’s like fourteen. Isn’t he a bit young for all the responsibilities that come
with being a best man? He better not try and feel me up like he did the last
time I saw him.” I smile, thinking back to the memory of a pubescent Abel
trying to pull the moves on me.

However
V doesn’t seem to find this funny. She only nods and lowers her eyes.

What
is she up to now?

Before
I have time to question her further, she gives me a quick goodbye hug, before pushing
me out the door, and taking off faster than the wind.

Okay,
that was weird, even for V. But she is probably just nervous and on edge about
the wedding. I know I am, and that’s because of a certain someone.  But I only
have to see him on the day of the wedding, and hopefully he will be hidden
amongst the crowd, so I won’t even have to look at him-much.

I
wait for Harper, as thanks to V’s NASCAR driving, we got here in record time.
His car approaches ten minutes later, and as Harper steps out, he looks like he
belongs here, amongst the rich. I however, I’m not sure where I belong. Being
back here is resurfacing insecurities I wish I could bury.

“I’m
glad you got here in one piece with Veronica’s driving,” Harper smiles, giving
me a quick kiss on the cheek.

As
we head into the hotel, I ogle the sight before me in complete awe, totally
getting why your Madonna’s and George Clooney’s stay here. This place is
amazing. The high ceilings are bright and elegant, and there is a slight
classic, glamorous feel to the place.

Harper
picks up our keys and we travel the elevators to our suite, appropriately
named, The Royale Suite, as this room is indeed fit for royalty.

There
are two double doors leading out to balconies overlooking Hollywood Hills, and
the view is breathtaking. The two seater brown velvet couch, and the two red
recliners in the living room look so comfy, I am tempted to curl up and read a
book in them.

A
beautiful stylish brown rug covers the dark hardwood floors, and a very elegant
coffee table rests upon it. The intricate designs suggest that the table is
antique, and probably very expensive. The mantle is white marble with lovely
trinkets sitting upon it, giving the room a homely feel. Above the mantel is a
huge plasma TV, which is mounted to the wall, and beneath is a fireplace
covered with a glass pane. The fireplace is finished off with an exquisite rose
colored marble, giving the room a splash of color. 

Stepping
into the hallway, I enter the vast bedroom with another balcony overlooking LA.
The color theme of the room is a light cream, with a splash of brown. The bed
of course is king size, and is scattered with cream and brown throw cushions.
The bedroom has its own bathroom, with a double shower, and a humongous
bathtub. I look around shocked. I don’t even want to go out and look at the
kitchen. This place is a palace!

Harper
comes up behind me, kissing my ear. “Nothing but the best for my girl,” he
whispers.

I
really am flattered, but this is all too much as I would have been happy anywhere,
nevertheless, I appreciate the gesture.

“It’s
beautiful Harper, but I would have been happy staying at my parents,” I say,
still looking around the room.

“Don’t be
silly, I told you I was going to spoil you. I stay true to my word,” he
replies, leaning in to kiss my neck.

I
should be grateful, and I am, but Harper believes making up for his aloofness
and detachment can be done so materialistically. If he could guarantee he would
sleep in that huge bed with me, every night, snuggling with me while watching
movies, then I’ll eat my words, but I know he won’t.  I know this first hand,
as it hasn’t been uncommon for me to find Harper curled up on the sofa in his
work clothes, in the early hours of the morning. And this happened even before
we were engaged. It happened as soon as we moved to Singapore, and sadly, he
hasn’t changed. When I questioned where he was at such a late hour, it’s always
the same excuse; a meeting ran late, or he had to meet with clients, as
Singapore is the city that never sleeps. You want to test drive a Ferrari at
3am, Singapore is the place for it.

So,
this is now my life. I may be a different person in fancier clothes, and close
to becoming a qualified culinary wiz, but am I happier now?

Looking
around the room, I sigh, as all these nice things, they mean nothing if you
don’t have anyone to share them with.

“Hey,
where’s your ring?” questions Harper, grabbing my hand.

Spinning
around to face him, I lower my eyes shamefully. “Oh, I took it off. My hands
were all sweaty, and I didn’t want it to slip off.”

Harper
looks at me, and I am unsure if he believes me as he only shrugs. “If you don’t
like, I can exchange it. Get you something bigger?”

“No!
Please, its big enough,” I reply quickly, and berate myself when I see a hurt
look pass over Harper’s face.

“Okay,
but I don’t like you not wearing it, especially while we’re here. I really must
insist you wear it.”

I
know why he is insisting, and that reason is the same reason why I won’t wear
it. Just thinking about that reason makes me anxious.

Harper
senses my nervousness. “Babe, go down to the spa, and book yourself a massage.
You’re all tense. I have to go take care of some business anyways, and I’ll be
a while, so go treat yourself.”

I
knew this was coming. “Harper, you promised you wouldn’t be working the whole
time we were here.”

“Ava,
we only just got here…” Harper turns to straighten his tie in the mirror.

“Exactly
my point,” I interrupt before he can finish.

He
looks at my reflection in the mirror while addressing me. “I was going to say,
we only just got here, so let me take care of what I have to, sooner rather
than later, and then we can spend all our time together.”

“Okay,”
I reply unbelieving.

He
turns around once he finishes with his stupid pristine looking tie, and kisses
my cheek while grabbing his jacket, and is out the elegant door before I can
say goodbye.

I
slump onto the bed annoyed, as I don’t know where Harper is off to, as he never
clarifies what his ‘business’ entails.

But
I trust him.

What’s
a marriage without trust right?

*****

As
expected, Harper has taken all day, and I am sitting alone in this awe
inspiring room, bored out of my mind. I pick up my Blackberry and text V:

Can
I come over now?

What
better way to spend the afternoon than with my best friend. I am trying on my
dress tonight, so I may as well head on over now, and it also gives me a chance
to see my cat Oscar, who I have missed dearly.

She
replies after a few minutes:

As
long as u r alone, sure thing kiddo

I can’t
believe my best friend and fiancée are arch enemies. It makes living in a
different country a blessing.

Yea,
just me, c u soon

Taking a quick
shower makes me feel human again, but now I am faced with the dilemma of what
to wear.

Zipping
open my suitcase, I groan while looking at the flashy garments sitting before
me. Everything is so pricey and…silky.

Reaching
for the only thing I don’t hate, I step into a tight black pencil skirt, and
slide into a very elegant gold camisole. It doesn’t sound very stylish, but it
cost $1200! I was there when Harper insisted he buy it for me. It is by some
designer whose name I cannot pronounce, but out of all the fashionable
expensive things I own, this is my favorite. Slipping on my black platform
wedges, which again cost way too much for shoes, they are thankfully comfy, and
add some height to my frame. I grab my bag, and am out the door within twenty
minutes. Feeling refreshed after my shower, and smelling like lemongrass and
lime after using my designer body wash, I wonder, when did my life become all
about designer clothes, and designer hotels and designer body wash? I feel like
an imposter at times, as this is not who I am. The simple things in life give
me most pleasure, but now, I can’t even remember the last time things weren’t
so elaborate.

Lost
in thought, I step out under the entrance and curse myself as I don’t have a
car. It is too much of a favor for V to drive out here, fighting the mad rush,
even though I know she would do it. So I decide to cab it. Looking up the
street, about to hail a cab, I see a driver approach me. What the hell?

“Ms.
Thompson, my name is Roberto. I am to drive you wherever you wish.” I look at
Roberto and scrunch up my nose.

“Really?”
I ask, somewhat surprised.

“Yes,
Mr. Holden gave me strict instructions to escort you to any destination you
require.”

“How
did Harp… I mean Mr. Holden get to wherever he was going?” I ask suspiciously.

No
way would Harper walk, especially in his expensive Italian shoes. Roberto only
looks at me like he isn’t to disclose this private information.

“It’s
okay Roberto, I’ll just catch a cab,” I reply annoyed.

Harper
thinks he can just boss me around, and this Roberto is probably Harper’s little
informant.

“Oh
Ms. please, I insist. I have been given strict orders by Mr. Holden to drive
you,” Roberto says uneasily.

I suddenly
feel very sorry for this balding, middle aged man as he looks to be shit scared
of Harper. 

“Fine,”
I sigh, giving up on arguing with him.

We walk over
to the Black BMW 730ld Saloon, and he opens the door for me very graciously,
but totally uncalled for. Stroking the black interior once inside, I know
Harper would have insisted for the best car to be driven around in during our
stay.

“Where
to Ms.?” Roberto asks, looking over his shoulder at me.

I
look at the LA skyline; it’s so different from Singapore. Singapore has been my
on/off home, but looking at all the familiar landmarks, I know Los Angeles will
always hold me prisoner with her beauty.

Giving
Roberto V’s address, he nods happily and we’re on our way.

I
try to make conversation, but I think Roberto’s strict orders also included not
talking to me. Giving up, I look out the tinted window, and although I am happy
to be home, I’m also scared to face the next two weeks.  I am frightened to
face old memories, and more importantly, I don’t want to deal with the
decisions I have made. Living in Singapore, just Harper and myself, I could
pretend that I was happy with this new life. But seeing V, and being back here,
I know I won’t be able to keep up with this act for much longer.

Finally
arriving at V’s, an hour after being stuck in peak hour traffic, I tell Roberto
to go back to the hotel as V will drive me back tonight. He is hesitant, but I
don’t give him much of a choice when I walk off, putting an end to our
discussion.

Walking
up the stairs to the house I used to call home, I feel nostalgic. I have so
many good memories here. So many memories I have been trying so hard to force
down, but all of a sudden, they are bursting open at the seams.

Taking
a steady breath, I ring the doorbell, as this isn’t my home anymore. V yells
for whoever it is to come in, and when I open the door, my mouth drops in
astonishment.

V
has been robbed. And the thieves have replaced her belongings with endless
wedding paraphernalia! Looking around the once inhabitable living room, all I
can see is red and white- everywhere!

I
can just make out V’s head amongst the chaos, and she is examining something
that looks like salt and pepper shakers. But these aren’t your standard salt
and pepper shakers, no, they are red and white, and are in the shape of a bride
and groom. I wonder what they are for.

Her
long hair is tied messily into a bun, with a pen holding it securely in place.

I
don’t think she has seen me, so I may be able to escape without detection.

“Don’t
even think about it. Get your ass over here and help me. That’s your job as
Maid of Honor. You are to stop the bride from having a meltdown.”

Damn.

Trudging over
and feeling a little claustrophobic with all this wedding stuff on display, I
really don’t know if I’ll be any help with V’s meltdown, as I am headed that
way in about two seconds.

“Sit,”
she commands.