TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) (45 page)

I’m being blinded by camera flashes. The mood shift is unsettling and I’m grateful to Ayden for his

meticulous planning. I wouldn’t have been happy eating here, not because of some outdated form of

snobbery but simply because I hate crowds.

Maintaining a safe distance from birthday cakes and balloons, I smile and keep moving, until I spot

them. Ayden’s bodyguards are standing in the shadows; close enough to keep him in view but far

enough away not to be seen, unless his dinner date makes a dash for the powder room, that is.

In that split second my smile fades and a frown replaces it, causing my face to contort and ache

under the strain. When I take a look at myself in the mirror, I’m alarmed by my own reflection; fear

has me in its grip. How will I ever shake free of it?

I sit a while, thinking things through before allowing cold water to trickle through my fingers;

regardless of my efforts I can’t hold onto it. I must let it go. All I can do is watch it disappear. I hope

it’s not an omen. Using my lip gloss brush, I follow the contour of my lips in the hope of creating

shape and plumpness from sharp edges. There is none.

I make a point of not looking up as I return to our secluded table. Ayden is not here. I gaze around

but there is no sign of him. I focus on the view and see my reflection; how sad I look on this, the night

before my wedding. That singular thought is enough to bring a lump to my throat.

“All set?” Ayden asks, reaching for my hand.

Purposely I keep my eyes down as I step clumsily from my chair to arrange my dress. “Sure.”

Taking his hand, I turn side on, harnessing enough self-control to stifle tears. Somewhere to my left a

balloon bursts, making me flinch and my grip tighten on his hand. He must have felt it.

Thankfully, there are several diners in the lift with us but, even so, our descent to street level seems

without end.

Outside, the cool night air greets us with a satisfying gust that wafts against my face, softening the

worry lines that had begun to form. Better still, the air conditioning in the limousine is fresh enough to

tamper down my fear just a little more. I feel safe within the confines of this sleek motor vehicle.

More importantly, Ayden is safe too.

Instinctively Ayden tucks me under his left arm as we make our way back to our hotel. His hand

grips my shoulder just a little too tightly to be reassuring; it feels more like he’s holding onto

something he knows may be snatched from him at any moment. It’s a worrying sign.

“Are you tired?” he asks, brushing imaginary flecks from his trousers.

“No. I’m just thinking.”

“About our two friends at the restaurant?”

I turn my head to face him. “How did you know I’d seen them?”

“Because the beautiful, contented woman who left me to go to powder her nose appeared to have

stayed there; a beautiful woman returned but the contentment was absent from her smile. Or at least

the one I saw reflected in the glass.”

I can offer no more than a flat smile. “I didn’t want to say anything.”

“You didn’t have to Beth. It was written all over your face.”

“I’m sorry.” I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. “This is such an unforgettable night, the

highlight of a memorable day. I don’t want to ruin it.”

With his free hand, he envelops my face. “You couldn’t even if you tried Beth. You mustn’t worry.

They are there as a precaution and nothing more. You’re perfectly safe and so am I.” His lips brush

against mine. “This time tomorrow you’ll be Mrs Stone. I think it’s only fair we should celebrate our

last night of freedom don’t you?

“What?”

“I mean, after tonight I will be unavailable.”

I shrug his hand free from my shoulder. “Keep talking like that and you’ll be back on the market

sooner than you think.”

He’s laughing and I’ve rediscovered my smile. He’s right, we should be celebrating; not the fact

that we’re still single but having found each other after such a long, long time of waiting and wishing.

“Okay. Where should we go? There must be somewhere in the town where we can dance.”

Ayden lowers the glass between us and the driver. “The lady wants to dance. Take us somewhere

classy.”

“I can do that sir, but what kind of dancing does the lady want to do?”

Ayden turns, hold up his hands, gesticulates.

“I don’t know. To a nightclub where there’s dance music. Something with a beat.”

“Did you get that?” Ayden asks the driver. “What about Tao?”

“Yes, sir. Tao it is.”

“Ring ahead and arrange a table will you?”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

The glass panel slides back into place. Our driver makes a quick call and our car slows before

making a U-turn. I have absolutely no idea where we’re going and neither do the occupants of the car

following us. No doubt they will be a little put out by our detour.

I’m fascinated by Asian culture, so this is quickly turning into the cherry on the top of an already

outrageously wonderful day. Striding forward, Ayden takes my hand and we pass under an enormous

red archway. We are expected. The nightclub is called Tao; it’s an eclectic mix of all things Asian,

another world. I love it.

We stroll through a barrel shaped corridor filled with perfumed candles and enormous bowls of

scented water into the Tao Lounge; it’s a sensory paradise. The room is full of people milling around,

some standing but most sitting, either in the semi-circular booths or on the plush cream sofas to the

far side. Making for the bar, I take in the sophisticated elegance of the room. It has a subtle serenity

about it, overseen by the army of enormous Buddhist statues looking down upon smartly dressed

guests, urging them to talk in whispers.

Ayden pulls out a high backed stool by the bar. “Wait here, I’ll only be a minute.” He kisses my

cheek then disappears from view. Something tells me he doesn’t need a toilet break. I picture him

moving to a quiet area where he can make a call and be heard.

Minutes pass. I spend them checking out the impressive collection of bottled spirits neatly arranged

on the back shelf. An observant bartender is asking me what I want to drink and I’m holding up my

hand and miming:
no thank you.

I sense someone behind me and I close my eyes. I’m not in the mood to be hit on. Not tonight. I feel

a soft hand on my arm and turn sharply to confront the owner of the offending hand. And then …

“Charlie!” Her name leaves my lips like a two syllabled screech that has her collapsing into a fit of

laughter. I jump from my chair and throw my arms around her and feel an avalanche of tears about to

cascade down my cheeks. “What the hell …?”

“Seriously Beth. Do you think I would let you jet off to Vegas to get married and miss it?”

“I had no idea you even knew.”

“Well, you can thank you know who for that.“ She takes hold of my hands and takes a step back.

“Just look at you. You’re friggin’ gorgeous!”

I accept the compliment and hug her tightly, unable to contain an aching sob that has been wrestling

with my heart all evening. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She takes a tissue from her bag and pats my eyes. “Hey. Now stop that or you’ll set me off. It’s

taken me three hours to get ready and I don’t want this masterpiece running down my cheeks.”

We laugh like sisters and sit opposite each other on two bar stools.

Feeling a little embarrassed, I explain, “I don’t know where Ayden is.”

“He’s with Jake,” she states confidently. “We flew here together in Ayden’s jet.” Her hand rests on

mine. “He’s got a lot of class that future husband of yours.”

“Yes, he has.” I smile and nod.

“Do you love him Beth? I mean, apart from the obvious attributes …. I mean, do you really love

him?” She holds me captive with a serious stare.

“Charlie. I love him more than life itself,” I state, remembering my conversation with Patrick.

“Well, that’s alright then. You’re getting married and I’m going to be the maid of honour. Yay!”

I stroke her hair and nod my head. “Yes, you are Charlie.”

I follow her expectant stare and see the man of my dreams approaching, accompanied by Jake

Harrison.

Ayden rest his chin on my head and plants a soft kiss on my hair. “She found you then?” He grins

cheekily.

“Yes, she did. Thank you for flying her out.” I pull his face down to mine by his tie and our lips

touch. As he pulls away I see the glossy wetness flash and fade in a shadowy haze, and consider what

it would be like to never again feel that mouth against mine. Without thinking, I slip my left arm

inside his jacket and pull him into me, unwilling to even contemplate that terrifying thought.

Jake throws me an all knowing smile. “Hi Beth. I see he got you here.”

“He did. By foul means, I might add.”

He throws back his head and laughs loudly, causing a group of young professional women to turn

and stare. “That’s what I like to hear.”

When our booth becomes available we hurriedly make our way over. Charlie and I scoot into the

back of the semi-circular seat and our two escorts perch themselves on the ends, clearly desperate to

talk about something other than cocktails and wedding dresses.

As ever, Charlie brings her own little weather front; she can turn a storm in a tea cup into a full

blown tornado in less time than it would take most people to boil an egg. Such is her love of life’s

little dramas.

Ayden rests his chin on his right palm and feigns interest for as long as he is able. I catch him

checking his watch and wonder how I can draw this unforgettable night to a grand finale, thus ending

his suffering.

I reach out and take hold of his hand from beneath the table, intertwining our fingers. No amount of

fondling or idle banter will rid me of this ominous feeling that something unpleasant is about to

happen. It’s like emotional toothache.

Having consumed two bottles of Louis Roederer Crystal, three quarters of our party are

effervescent. Clearly the bubbles have gone to their heads. I marvel at Ayden’s transformation. When

has he been this relaxed and playful? Never. He has loosened his tie and he and Jake have regressed so

far back, they resemble pubescent boys on a stag night. If I take one thing from this evening, it will be

the memory of Ayden right now. Where is that Minstrel man with his hard shell and soft interior; the

one who was so unapproachable and unlovable? He’s not here.

I throw back the remaining mouthful of champagne and edge over to him. “I thought we came here

to dance.”

In an overly animated gesture he stands, outstretching his hand to me in an exaggerated bow. “My

darling wife-to-be wants to dance.” He kisses my hand. “And dance she shall.”

In a matter of minutes we are ascending one floor up and preparing to step from the elevator into

Tao Nightclub. When the doors open a wall of sound hits us like a tidal wave; the bass sounds settle in

my stomach like hard rocks and keep me weighted to the ground for several seconds.

We step into the crowded area and I hold onto Ayden’s hand tighter than necessary, for fear of

becoming lost in the throng of beautiful people. The bar is our first port of call, although we surely

don’t need more champagne.

While Ayden and Jake go in search of a table, Charlie and I acquire a couple or bar stools. They

give us some kind of reprieve from the horde of male admirers who seem to have amassed around us.

“I’m going to powder my nose,” Charlie yells above the sound of booming house music.

I’m about to say, “… Can’t you wait until they get back?” But she’s gone in a flurry of red hair and

high heels. I’m left alone for the second time tonight at a bar, only this time surrounded by several

hundred carved wooden monks. At least they won’t be expecting sparkling conversation.

When I turn on my stool, I can do no more than feast my eyes upon oversized Buddhas and red

velvet furniture. Accents of Asia are everywhere. I’m gawping at fish tanks and acrobats swinging on

wires, losing any sense of time and place as I am swept away by the thunderous beat of the music. I’ve

not seen anything like it.

“Beth!” Charlie calls. “Come with me.” There’s an urgency in her voice that causes me to lurch

forward on my stool.

“What’s happened, Char?”

“Just come with me. You’ve got to see this!”

She snatches at my hand and forcibly drags me through the crowd towards the dance floor. All I can

do is offer apologetic smiles as I catch elbows on route.

To my utter astonishment, I see a circle of people. In the centre of that circle are two handsome

men, dancing; one of which is Ayden Stone.

“What did I tell you … can you believe it?” shouts Charlie above the cheering and the clapping

which is building as the circle increases, becoming deeper by the second.

Of all the incredible experiences I have had today, and there have been many, this is by far the most

enjoyable. I have travelled across the world, taken a helicopter ride, dined at The Top of The World