Star Promise by G. J. Walker-Smith
It was too much for the close-minded king to grasp. He threw his head back and laughed. “Of course he did.”
“It’s true,” I insisted.
“Do you speak fan language, Charli?” he mocked.
“Luckily for you, I do,” I replied smugly. “Some of the gestures are simple. If the woman rests her fan on her right cheek, that means yes. The left cheek means no.”
“Ah,” he crowed. “But what was the question?”
“It’s simple body language,” I replied. “There is no question.”
After a few minutes of unrestricted shuffling, the dance floor suddenly became crowded with oversized dresses and man-tights. We were barely moving so I spoke quickly, determined to get to the end of the tale before Jean-Luc called it quits. “If she places the fan near her heart, it means you have won her love. If it’s over her left ear, she wants you gone – you’re done.”
“It doesn’t sound terribly accurate, Charli,” he complained. “Lots of room for misinterpretation.”
I smiled, enjoying the feeling of victory that came with making him think outside the box. “What do you think Fiona’s fanning is saying right now?” I asked curiously.
He huffed. “I have no idea.”
I craned my neck, looking up at him. “I dare you to turn around and look.”
Never one to back down from a challenge, he turned both of us around to face the table. “She’s scratching her head with it,” he noted. “What does that mean?”
My reply came quickly. “It means she’s totally miserable, her wig is itchy and she wants you to take her home.”
Jean-Luc looked down at me, almost smiling. “You may be right.”
“I’m always right,” I said smugly. “But she won’t leave unless you woo her away.”
“Couldn’t you have just suggested that in the first place?” he asked. “There was no need for theatrics.”
“Au contraire, monsieur.” My accent was so appalling that both of us grimaced. “Because of my theatrics, you’re now acquainted with Jean-Pierre Duvelleroy, the French fan maker.”
***
I was Cupid in a big dress. Jean-Luc went back to the table, whispered a few sweet nothings in his wife’s ear and helped her to her feet. After too many kisses on the cheek and orders to have a good time, they left.
I looked at Adam, who was clearly plotting the rest of our evening in his head. Judging by his smile, his plans didn’t include Cossack trousers and a four-course meal. “We’ll leave,” he suggested. “I will take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Adam, do you know your father paid ten thousand dollars for this table?”
He shrugged. “He wouldn’t care about that. They bailed too, remember?”
I put my hand on his leg. “You’d really take me anywhere?”
“Anywhere.” His voice was low and gorgeous.
“The bathroom?”
A sly grin crept across his face. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“To make a few adjustments,” I clarified. “This corset is really tight.”
30. GOOD ODDS
Adam
There were at least a hundred people seated in the ballroom. As far as I was concerned, these were good odds. I’d been on the lookout for Olivia all night, but hadn’t seen her since the stare-down in the foyer. Even on the move, the chances of running into her were slim, and if by chance we did I was doubtful she’d give us the time of day anyway.
Breaking through the double doors into the vast foyer was as good as a receiving a rush of fresh air. Charli must’ve felt it too. Her walk slowed and she made a grab for my hand.
“This way, I think,” I said, pointing toward a corridor to our left.
Figuring she’d need help adjusting her underwear, I offered to venture into the bathroom with her. “I could make a few bucks,” I teased. “I could stand in there and be a professional corset loosener, for a price.”
“Not in those pants, peasant.”
With a cheeky grin she shoved the door open with her back and tried to make her way inside. A smooth entrance was never going to happen. Several layers of her skirt didn’t make it through before the door closed, trapping her.
“Adam, help me,” came her plea from the other side.
I leaned close to the door. “I would Charlotte, but I’m just a simple peasant.”
“Excuse me,” interrupted a horribly familiar voice from behind. “You’re in the way.”
If my brain planned for me to speak, it took too long. Olivia pushed her way past and bumped the door with her shoulder. The fabric of Charli’s skirt disappeared as the door opened, and a second later Olivia did too.
Our charmed life was about to be ripped to pieces, and it was all going down in a hotel bathroom.
31. CONFUSION
Charli
It was ridiculous to think I was going to be able to loosen the laces down my back by myself, so I didn’t bother trying. I did what I needed to and spent a long minute in front of the mirror. I couldn’t be comfortable, but was marginally hopeful of making myself appear that way.
I didn’t really pay much attention to the woman standing off to the side. I assumed she was waiting for someone, or for a chance to use the mirror I was hogging.
“I won’t be a minute,” I said, smiling at her.
“Take your time, Charli,” she quietly replied. “I’ve already been waiting forever.”
Surprised that she knew my name, I turned to look at her. Momentarily forgetting that I was wearing a big flouncy dress too, I was struck by how out of place she looked. Her black velvet gown was more Vivienne Leigh than Marie Antoinette, but she was impeccably put together. I tried hard to place her face, but couldn’t. I had no clue who she was.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
I got no reply.
I was at the door when the woman made a move. She stepped in front of me, reached for the handle and twisted the lock. That was the moment I realised that no one else was in the room. I was alone with a potentially crazy lady.
“Open the door,” I demanded. “My husband is right outside.”
She lurched for the handle when I did. I contemplated screaming.
“Please Charli,” she said. “Don’t call Adam in. He won’t be pleased.”
“Who are you?” I snapped. “How do you know me?”
Crazy lady reached behind her neck and undid the clasp on her necklace. “I met Adam and Bridget last week,” she explained, holding her locket out to me. “I teach ballet.”
I kept my hands by my sides. “Minuet Ballet School?”
“Yes.” She dropped her hand, and began winding the chain around her fingers. “Adam read the prospectus folder my receptionist gave him while I tutored Bridget.”
“So?”
She stared at me, her blue eyes wide and worried. “All of my information is in there – my complete résumé,” she continued. “He realised something very important, Charli.” She held out the locket. “Please take it.”
Curiosity was killing me and I’d never been good at playing it cool. I reached out, keeping my eyes on hers. “What is it?”
“Open it, please.”
I took a second to study it first. It wasn’t a pretty piece. The front was etched with a tacky floral pattern, and the thing was huge – about the size of a small makeup compact. Opening the stiff lid took effort. Holding onto it once I saw what was inside took even more. The photo was rough, and probably always had been. It was crudely cut to fit the inside frame, and faded with age.
“Is this you?” My voice was barely there.
“Yes.”
The brunette girl in the picture was about fifteen, smiling, fresh faced and pretty as she posed with her arm around a handsome boy’s shoulder. I didn’t need to ask who he was. I would’ve recognised the shaggy blond surfer boy anywhere. It was my father.
“Alex gave me that necklace.” She put her hand to the base of her throat as if she missed it being there. “I’v
I tore my gaze from the piece of history in my hand and forced myself to look at her. “You’re Olivia?”
She nodded, looking as distraught by the notion as I felt. “I’m your mother, Charli. I’ve thought about you every day.”
I couldn’t return the sentiment. I rarely thought of her at all, and if I did it was only to wonder what she looked like. I didn’t feel like I was getting a true picture at that point. It was likely that her hair wasn’t usually coiffed into a foot tall mass of curls, and she probably didn’t swan around in period costume either.
I snapped the locket shut and held it out to her.
“Keep it,” she urged. “I want you to have it.”
Probably wondering what was taking me so long, Adam knocked on the door and called my name. “I’m okay,” I said through the door. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
As if confusion wasn’t muddling me already, Olivia asked a question that made even less sense than finding my long lost mother in a hotel bathroom.
“Are you frightened of him, Charli?” she whispered.
“Who?” I gasped. “Adam?”
I couldn’t quite place her expression. It was a cross between pity and fear. “He got quite nasty when he found out who I am,” she said quietly. “He warned me to stay away from you.” She glanced at the door as if she was worried Adam would bash it in. “I begged him to give me your contact details, but he refused,” she added.
Adam’s voice sounded distant, but his fist was loud. Maybe he was about to smash his way in. “Charlotte, open the door.”
“Wait, Adam,” I demanded, putting my hand on the door. “Please.”
“He knows I’m in here talking to you,” Olivia said morosely. “He saw me come in.”
I shouldn’t have been giving any credence to her words. I didn’t know her from a bar of soap. She was a stranger who’d busted into my life claiming to be my mother. What she thought of my husband was inconsequential.
My eyes dropped to the locket. It was tangible proof of who she was, and a tiny glimpse of the beginning of me. The confusion that came with that realisation was crippling.
I ran my thumb over the gaudy etching. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I mumbled.
“I loved your father, Charli,” she declared with reverence. “Giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I want us to know each other. It’s everything I’ve dreamed of.”
Another sentiment I couldn’t return. “I’m not sure what I want,” I muttered.
“Just promise you won’t let Adam stand in the way,” she begged. “He’s gone out of his way to keep me from you for a week. It’s been horrendous.”
When Olivia took a step toward me, I took a giant step back. I wasn’t just trying to get away from her. I was trying to escape the whole situation.
“Adam would never stop me from seeing you, if that’s what I choose to do.”
“He’s made it impossible so far,” she replied.
Everything darkened around that one sentence. It gutted me to think Adam had kept this secret from me. I had no idea why he would do it.
“He cancelled Bridget’s ballet lessons,” she added. “I begged him not to. He told me that having me in your life would be of no benefit.”
When she burst into tears, I almost moved to comfort her. But I stayed put, because I needed comforting more.
Adam wasn’t above lying to get his own way – he pulled it off for a whole year when we were first married. Perhaps New York brought out the worst in him. Or maybe he was just a jerk. I didn’t care either way at that point. He’d stumbled across my mother and then dared to keep it a secret from me. It was controlling and nasty beyond measure.
“Please don’t let me lose you a second time, Charli,” sobbed Olivia. “I couldn’t stand it.”
“I need time to think,” I said weakly.
Olivia reached into her purse, grabbing a couple of tissues and a business card. “Call me,” she pleaded, thrusting the card at me. “Day or night.”
I nodded, but wasn’t sure I meant it.
Teary and upset, she unlocked the door and wandered out. Like the most powerful of hurricanes, Olivia Fielding had dropped in, torn up my whole world and then left.
32. ACCIDENTAL VILLAIN
Adam
I paced the corridor, doing all I could to stop myself from kicking down the bathroom door. When it finally opened, Olivia swaggered out. Charli was nowhere to be seen.
I stood and waited for her to pass me, fearful of what I might do if I approached her. I didn’t get the baleful glare she’d hit me with earlier. I got an ingratiating grin that made my stomach turn.
“Such an emotional reunion,” she exclaimed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “Poor Charlotte is a wreck.”
Her tears were as bogus as the emotion in her voice, showcasing another of her talents. She was also an actress.
“What did you do?” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Olivia dropped the wounded mother ruse instantly. “Played my hand, Adam,” she said slyly. “It’s your move now.”
***
The desperate need to get into the bathroom was all but gone. I stood at the door for a long time, dreading what I might find on the other side. When I called Charli’s name and got no answer, I pushed myself to open the door.
Women’s bathrooms are far better decked out than men’s. It was no wonder they spend so much time in them. I found Charli in the lounge area, slumped on a chaise lounge in a puff of heavy pink fabric.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” Her voice was flat and empty. “Get out.” Her head fell forward, shifting her focus to the oversized pendant in her hand.
I made my way over to her, pushed her dress aside as best I could and sat beside her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
After a long moment of silence, Charli picked up the necklace and dangled it in front of us. “Do you know what this is, Adam?”
“No.”
“There’s a picture of my parents inside,” she explained. “My mother just gave it to me. I just met my mother.”
I didn’t know how to acknowledge the news, so I didn’t. I commented on the necklace instead, and even that wasn’t honest. “It’s pretty.”
Charli huffed out a sharp breath. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I’m not sure what else to say, Charlotte.”
“You knew about her a week ago.” The disgust in her voice was clear. “You kept it from me. Why would you do that?”
“I tried to talk her into meeting with you, Charli.” My voice took on a completely different tone as I pushed for understanding. “She was adamant that she didn’t want to meet you. I didn’t know what to do.”
Charli jumped to her feet, furiously waving the necklace at me. “Olivia has worn this every day since before I was born. Why would she do that if she didn’t care?”
I was beginning to realise that Olivia was more toxic than I had first thought. The ugly necklace was just an extension of her venom. She wasn’t wearing it the day I met her. It was nothing more than a prop; but there was no way of explaining it without making the situation worse.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
I did know, which made looking Charli in the eye nearly impossible. Her mother was evil. Plain and simple.
The necklace bounced off the cushion as she threw it down beside me. “Olivia said she begged you for my number.” The words raged out of her. “How could you refuse?”
I exhaled, trying to keep my anger in check. Yelling back at her wasn’t going to help. “I gave her your business card,” I insisted. “Mine too.”
She shook her head, making the wispy blonde curls at her shoulders bounce. “You’re lying to me.”
The accusation was a spear through my heart. I couldn’t allow her to accept Olivia’s version of events, but a simple denial wasn’t going to cut it. It hurt that she believed her without question, and I developed a
“So you didn’t refuse to let Bridget join her class?”
Every ounce of concentration I possessed went toward wording my answer. Before I even spoke I knew it was game over.
“I did refuse,” I admitted. “I don’t want Bridget in her class.”
I hate the moment when anger suddenly turns to tears. It usually took a lot for Charli to reach that point, but not tonight. “Why, Adam?” Her fists thumped my chest as she answered her own question. “Because having my mother in my life would be of no benefit, right?”
Olivia had really pulled out all stops. Every single word I said had been twisted to make me look like the villain. It was impossible to deal with that level of malice, especially considering I had no idea why she was gunning for me in the first place. I grabbed Charli’s wrists, mainly to stop her whaling on me. “You need to calm down,” I told her. “There are two sides to this story, and for some reason you’re only listening to one.”
I felt her body go limp beneath my grasp. “Nothing you say will change the fact that you kept this from me,” she said weakly. “I will never forgive you for that.”
I tried to see further than her teary brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She pulled her hands away. “Me too.” She snatched up the pendant and made her way to the door. “Where are you going, Charlotte?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to be near you right now,” she whimpered. “I need time to think.”
“You can’t just leave.”
“Sure I can,” she retorted. “I’ve done it before.”
***
When everything falls apart, my first instinct is to pull those I love in close. Charli had put herself out of reach, but Bridget was well within my grasp.
The Parker Royale Hotel had to be cursed. I’d never experienced anything but conflict there. The long line of chauffeured town cars waiting on the street was one short. As inconvenient as it was, I was relieved to notice that ours had gone. Wherever Charli had run to, it wasn’t on foot.