Book II: Chapter Fourteen

The Venue, Pre-Drinks Party

Kendra felt like she was floating on air when she materialized in the room, champagne bottle and glasses in hand.

She smiled at her guests, enjoying the rush of adrenaline spiking through her body. She felt exhilarated. Thrilled. On top of the world!

“Everyone, can I get your attention please?” She chinked her glass, and watched Leonor with pride while everyone gathered around the table. No matter what tomorrow would bring today was the climax of months of preparation and hard work.

“Today is undoubtedly one of the most amazing days of my life, and I have each and every one of you to thank for it. So, thank you for all your fat checks, you’ve made a lot of kids’ dreams come true-” She filled the glasses and presented them to her friends.

“To family! May we always cherish the people around us, and always hold them close to our hearts!” She raised her glass, and a chorus of “to family” boomed in the crowd. She took a careful sip, and cleared her throat.

Oh boy this was going to be the hard one.

She knew by morning, Le Good Life’s fashion show would be covered in the society pages of major newspapers; lifestyle shows on TV will be talking about it for weeks to come, and of course there’d be more fashion shows like this one, more charities would benefit from all the money raised.

No one deserved credit and recognition more than Leonor. She made the show a complete success, but it was her friendship Kendra would be eternally grateful for.

Over the past few weeks Leonor had become the friend she needed when Victoria was too caught up in her drama with Storm; she was there when she needed to cry and vent about not being able to bear children for Dean. Leonor was always awake to answer her call at 3 in the morning when her husband snored peacefully beside her and she felt like the walls were caving in on her…She was her ride home when she was too drunk to get behind the wheel of her Ferrari…

Kendra could go on, but her guests were growing uncomfortable with her awestruck silence; Out of the corner of her eye she saw them shuffling their feet impatiently, and exchange confused stares.

“Better get on with it.” She snapped herself out of her daze, and turned to the leggy model. But words just failed her. She pulled the other girl in a warm embrace, tears glistening in both their eyes.

“You’ve saved my life in more ways that you’ll ever know. Thank you and I wish you all the best in your future endeavors, all the happiness in the world, and more money than your bank manager will ever know what to do with!” She murmured at last when they finally drew apart, and the last comment brought a chuckle from the crowd. Everyone knew Kendra’s obsession with money.

Raising her glass again for what was obviously not the last time that evening, she cried emotionally, “to Leonor, You’re a life saver!”

Her words were echoed in the room.

“Lee, speech, speech!” Someone cheered in the crowd, and Lee caught the mischievous glint in Drake’s eyes.

It was him. I’ll make him pay later. She vowed crossly.

For someone who wasn’t camera shy, she was bad at public speaking. She could make love to the camera, have foreplay with her Dolce and Gabbana outfits, and set the catwalk on fire, but she hated speaking in a crowd. It made her feel inadequate, and unpolished.

The crowd paused, waiting for her to say something. She took a quick sip from her glass, to still her anxiety, before looking at the sea of faces. She smiled when her eyes met her brother’s.

“You can do this.” Alfonso mouthed his encouragement. She blinked twice, their secret sign that she was okay, and she could handle this.

She thanked everyone, especially Kendra for giving her a chance, the agency, and her friends. Even Haru made it in her speech.

“But a special thank you goes to my brother, for believing I could be as good as our mom. Without him, I wouldn’t have dreams. To Alfonso, my best friend, my everything! ” She raised her glass at her brother, and everyone turned to the back of the group to see the man being honored.

There were a few interested stares from the women in the room, but Charisse marked her position firmly at his side, anyone who wanted a piece of Alfonso, would have to go through her first.

Storm, easily bored by all the glitz and glamour, was suddenly interested in the leggy model’s speech when he heard her brother’s name was Alfonso.

He hadn’t wanted to take a chance after Boyd’s veiled threats, so he’d asked his team to do a quick sweep of the venue, and check out the models and everyone involved with the show. He’d looked at the models' files briefly, and he remembered Leonor’s last name was Paloma.

Could it be? If it was, God was fighting on his side. He wouldn’t have to go looking for the man responsible for all this mess. Moses had come to the mountain, it would seem.

Storm was convinced if he heard a “thank you” or “without you I…” one more time he’d scream, but he was feeling jolly suddenly. He wanted to break into song, and celebrate his good find. Instead, he raised his own glass, and toasted to Kendra, hailing her for being such a strong pillar of the community and making a lot of people’s dreams come true.

Everyone assumed he was referring to Leonor’s dreams coming true. But in fact, it was his own dreams he was talking about. Kendra had unknowingly brought him to the man who’d robbed him of his peace and sanity these last few months. For that he’d always be thankful for this pretentious affair.

He looked at the man now carefully. A replica of his sister. They looked good looking enough to belong in the plastic world his sister-in-law loved so much. But something about their eyes disturbed him…

He smiled broadly when the ‘praise fest’ broke apart a few moments later.

“Who are you Alfonso Paloma?” He wondered silently, watching Drake make eyes at the leggy model, never mind that Daniella, his girlfriend of two years, was hanging on to his arm.

Storm’s eyes wandered to a corner of the room where his ward, Charisse, was engrossed in conversation with public enemy number one.

He couldn't believe how close Alfonso had always been, he’d literally been right under his nose. He’d heard from Victoria, Charisse was seeing some IT freelancer. He wished now he’d quizzed his wife more, and did a background check on his ward’s new boyfriend.

He was so tempted to pull Alfonso aside and get down to business, but he knew he had to exercise caution. The last thing he wanted was to send Alfonso running.

He walked around the room with Victoria on his arm, refilling everyone’s glasses, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. But it didn’t. Not at the party at least.

Storm wasn’t the only one with secret plans and hidden agendas. Haru had seen something he liked earlier in the evening. If only he had not been a total bitch to Leonor throughout the preparations for the show, things would have been perfect now. It was safe to say he was smitten with Alfonso. He’d spotted him the moment he waltzed through the Venue’s doors and he could not keep his eyes off him since.

But Charisse was on to him. She may have lived a sheltered life, and she may be doe eyed when it comes to matters of the heart, but she knew a predatory eye when she saw one. And Haru’s screamed ‘vulture’ from a mile away.

Could he be more obvious? She thought bitterly, watching Haru give Alfonso a ‘come hither’ look.

 “I think you have a fan,” she whispered in Alfonso’s ear. Her cool breath on his skin sent tingles down his spine, and he found himself wondering about the night she spent in his bed; he’d denied himself what he’d so desperately wanted. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice. He wanted her. Pure and simple.

“As long as that fan is you, I don’t mind,” he whispered back, caressing her cheek. He didn’t want anyone else in the world. Since they met, he wanted to spend every waking moment with her, and he planned to do just that as soon as the mess with the files was cleared.

“Leonor’s choreographer,” Charisse chuckled, and he looked up, startled.

“No way,” he mumbled, feeling very uncomfortable suddenly.

“He’s been checking you out since we got here, hanging on to your every word, I’m sure if we gave him a napkin, it would be sopping wet with all his drool,” Charisse murmured, before walking off, leaving him dumbfounded.

Haru saw his opportunity then and followed Alfonso to the buffet table. He was just about to make his move when his sister showed up and gave him a look that sent him scurrying away.

He found himself sitting with Daniella and Rachel, and as they all got talking they discovered they had so many things in common! They agreed to keep in contact, with Haru suggesting the latest gay hot spot in Downtown was a good place to hook-up.

On the dance floor Hugo couldn’t believe he was doing this for the 150^th time.

“Will you marry me?” He asked softly, but loud enough for her to hear him.

“No…we’ve talked about this,” Cassie, not missing a dance step, declined his proposal for the 150^th time.

But he wasn’t deterred. He knew persistence prevails in the end. He didn’t win the Architecture of the Year award three years in a row by luck. It had taken him a lot endurance, patience, and perseverance to get to the top. It wasn’t easy, anything worth keeping was never easy, and that’s why he worked a hundred times harder to keep Cassie.

“One day you’ll say yes,” he murmured before dropping a passionate kiss on her lips. Cassie just smiled, feeling dazed from his kiss. She loved him with all her heart, but marriage was huge and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it for herself. She’d watched Victoria and Kendra these last two years; they seemed content for the most part. But that was just it, she didn’t want contentment. She wanted every day to be like now, electrifying, spontaneous, and exhilarating. And she was so afraid the moment she said yes to Hugo, she’d kiss all this adrenaline rush goodbye.

“You’ve been smiling like a Cheshire cat since your toast to Kendra, mind telling me what’s on your mind?” Victoria dragged him to a secluded spot in the corner of the room. She’d had it with Storm, and his ‘way too pleased’ smile.

“I’m attending the biggest show in Statham Island history,” he mimicked Kendra’s voice, and Victoria slapped his arm playfully. “Isn’t that reason enough for me to be happy?” He added softly, in his own voice now.

She held his eyes, searching, questioning. And then he had to smile at her, and she forgot everything she’d planned on saying.

Not too far from his older brother, Dean was ecstatic with the way the evening was turning out. He was thrilled the fashion show was behind them. Maybe now they could work on their baby. He knew in in his heart the doctor was wrong; they would have a child, and he couldn’t wait to get started.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He drawled, pulling her close to him.

“I know,” Kendra slurred merrily. Dean wasn’t bothered by her vanity. In fact he loved her all the more for it, it seemed.

“Now that this is over, what do you say we get a second opinion?” He broached the subject tentatively. He knew he was taking a huge gamble, bringing this up now and it could have horrible consequences for him and their guests. He didn’t even know why he’d asked. It just slipped his tongue and he wished he could take it back. He held his breath, his grip tightening around her, preparing himself for her attack. But to his dismay it never came.

“Okay, I’ll call the doctor tomorrow,” Kendra smiled up at him instead, and wrapped her legs around him, slowly rubbing them up and down his back, hinting at things still to come that night.

“Get a room you two,” Charisse scolded her guardians as she took a seat at the bar, not too far from them.

She dumped her plate on the surface, and stared at the cake for a long time. It looked too perfect to destroy. But that was exactly what she was going to do.

“I’m Leonor,” Alfonso’s twin smiled at her just as she was about to take her first bite.

“I know. I’m Charisse, and I loved the show. I thought you were pretty cool,” she replied softly.

Awkward silence washed over them. She didn’t know what to say to her boyfriend’s sister. She could talk about the weather but somehow she doubted it was a topic a glamorous person like Leonor would enjoy. Or maybe, she could talk about the stock market, and give her tips on investing the huge bonus she just got.

“Oh dear,” she thought anxiously; she had to make a good impression here.

“Would you like some cake?” She blurted out instead, when saw the longing look in Leonor’s eyes as she stared at her plate.

Leonor was caught off guard. She was starving, and she knew if she didn’t walk away from her brother’s girlfriend she’d chomp the cake in two minutes flat.

Her only meal was two crackers a day for the past two weeks. She’d artfully messed around with the food on her plate, mixing up the variety of colors to make it look like she’d eaten, whenever they went out with Kendra.

As dog hungry as she was, she was petrified of gaining weight. If and when she overindulged, she took laxatives the next morning to purge herself of all the extra weight.

“I’m fine thanks,” she firmly shook her head and pranced off.

Lee found a quiet corner. She closed her eyes, blocking off memories. Before she had the twins, Rosalie, their mother was a successful, highly sought after, and highly paid size 0 catwalk model. But years after giving birth, she’d struggled to get back into the scene because her weight had ballooned out of control, and no matter how hard she tried to shed off the kilos she just couldn’t. Sadly, that signaled the end of her career as catwalk model. 

The twins were too young then to understand, or to even know what was going on, they just knew their mother was fragile, sick, and had to take lots of medication which made her sick most of the time. They didn’t know it was diet pills, and laxatives, and they were oblivious to the fact that she forced herself to throw up by shoving her fingers down her throat.

Rosalie hid her condition well, and if the then twelve year old Leonor hadn’t accidentally walked in on her while she was making herself sick, they would never have known she had a problem. The rich married man their mother was involved with ever since she could remember, made sure anorexia did not make it on their mother’s death certificate. They probably would have believed the doctors when they said it was cancer that had killed their mom.

Cancer…That’s what her death certificate said it was…

But they knew better…She knew better.

Leonor often wondered if the married man was their father. On their thirteenth birthday, she and Alfonso had flat out asked their mom if he was. Rosalie had relentlessly denied it, refusing to divulge their father’s identity; something she’d carried to her grave two years later, leaving Alfonso with a deep identity crisis and her, with a profound feeling of incompleteness.

“Earth to the biggest star in the world!” Alfonso waved his hand in front of his sister’s face, and she smacked it away, an annoyed glint in her eyes.

“What?” She demanded crossly.

“I’ve been talking to myself for the past five minutes, where did you go?” Alfonso asked, taking a huge bite from his burger. At that moment, she resented him just a little. He could eat anything, and he wouldn’t have to worry about putting on weight, he worked out for two hours minimum, every day. But even if he didn’t, he’d still look good because he had a fast metabolism. Whereas, she had inherited the fat gene, Lord knew how when their mom was a size zero before they came along.

“Are you okay?” Alfonso asked, sensing her listlessness. He was afraid of this, her dark moods, her deep sense of listlessness. She always got this way after a major show. She once described it as an emptiness no amount of money would ever fill and he couldn’t help her when she got down on that road. He hoped she would find another project soon, and keep herself busy; otherwise it would be weeks of drinking, and drugs, the wild parties. Weeks of living with a stranger, until one morning, when Leonor herself would wake up and decide she’d had enough. Just like that, she’d snap out of it.

“I’m fine,” Lee replied quietly, and smiled at him, but he wasn’t convinced.

“I’m proud of you. This is your biggest day, something you’ve wanted since you were five and you watched mom put on that long silver gown, do you remember?” He asked wistfully.

“Do you think she’d be proud of me?” Leonor answered his question with her own. She was twenty-three, and still looking for approval, checking for confirmation, craving affection. Shit, how fucked up was that? She shook her head, sobbing loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Alfonso was instantly at her side, worry in his eyes.

“Nothing. I’m just feeling emotional that’s all. It’s been a long day,” she smiled tearfully and got up to make her escape. She was a fucking mess, and she had to get it together before the gala dinner.

“She loved us. You know that right?” Alfonso assured her gently.

“Yeah she did, but not as much as she loved him!” She retorted over her shoulder.

Alfonso knew who she was referring to by ‘him’. It was the married man. Never got his real name, or maybe he did, he just didn’t remember it now. But he always knew him as their mom’s special friend; knew he was married by the ring on his finger. He suspected he was their father, but never had any fucking proof. He always wished he was his father, Lord knew the man acted like he was…playing soccer with him, watching cartoon network, coming to check on him when he was sick…Their mom’s special friend…what was his name again?

He remembered though, the special friend was some big hot shot in Statham Island, a town two hours from Veronaville where they grew up, and that’s how he’d come up with the harebrained scheme of moving to Statham Island.

If the special friend wasn’t their father, maybe he’d know who their dad was, and he’d point him in the right direction. But almost, six months after moving to the island, there was still no luck finding the mystery friend. His only hope now was the sealed files.

He may not have his name or address, but Alfonso knew their father was one rich motherfucker, with connections in the right places; their needs were always taken care of…He made sure of it, whoever he was. Alfonso figured if he was that fucking prominent, he must be dodgy too, and may have earned himself a nice record with law enforcement. That’s why he picked Amanda…She didn’t forget her digitag; he’d swiped it from her after he figured out how to break into the BAU’s databank with the help of the very talented Sergio.

While Alfonso was haunted by ghosts from his past, Dean was trying to squirm his way out of the gala dinner.

“Can’t we just skip dinner, and go straight to dessert?” He suggested, artfully running his hands on her back. He wanted take her someplace private, and strip off the damn dress, it looked incredible on her, and it was nice to touch. But he wanted to run his hands all over her naked body, feel her, caress her, and have his fill of her. He wanted her desperately, and he didn’t feel like sitting through three hours of boring speeches.

“Not a chance, but I promise I’ll give you lots of dessert when we get home,” Kendra purred, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

 “Oh but you’ve promised me too many times, so I insist on tasting the dessert first,” Dean smiled.

She laughed at his cheesy line, but she loved him all the more for it. She dragged him to the vacant couch, and gave him a mind blowing taste of the desserts still in store for him.

“I miss you,” Victoria whispered. She was a little drunk, but she knew what she was saying.

“Come here,” reading the look in her eyes, Storm murmured huskily, and dragged her up on his lap to cover what would quickly become apparent. He kissed her relentlessly, playing with the zipper on the back of her dress.

“Don’t you think it’s time we gave Starr a little sister?” Victoria’s eyes were bright with desire.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Storm replied, caressing her breasts before moving lower.

“Jesus, not here,” She cried softly, not stopping his advancing hands though. She squirmed a little on his lap, trying to find the right position; she wanted to feel him, inside her and she was practically begging him to make love to her right there.

“We could go to one of the private rooms, no one will know,” He suggested. She nodded, brushing her hair.

“You go first, I’ll meet you there,” she replied, blushing like a school girl.

“We’re married, no one will care,” Storm growled. He wasn’t up for games. He wanted her, and he was going to have her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled her to her feet and dragged her from the room. She tried her damndest to ignore Hugo and Cassie’s knowing looks as they walked past them.

After his puzzling talk with his sister, Alfonso went looking for Charisse. He was tired and restless and he wanted to get out of there. He knew his twin would be pissed at him for not attending the fancy dinner, but at that moment he couldn’t care less. He hated thinking about his past; it always left him in knots and that’s why he worked hard at avoiding it.

“Hey, I was just about to send a search party,” Charisse beamed at him, and his heart squeezed a little. Would she still look at him like that when she found out he wasn’t the man he’d led her to believe he was?

“Had enough of the high end couture, and plastic boobs?” He asked, his voice ringing with a false lightheartedness.

“If I see any more plastic, I’ll turn into Barbie I bet,” she joked back.

“Come on, let’s head home,” he linked their hands and led her out of the Venue. He smiled when she didn’t complain. He was convinced she’d want to attend the silly dinner, and spend hours listening to tired jokes made by potbellied, balding men.

“Does your sister live like this every day?” Charisse asked with a wary look in her eyes. He ignored her question, trying hard not to worry about Leonor, but he could feel it, a bad storm was on the way. Not just for his sister. For him too. This time he’d bitten off more than he could chew, and the walls were slowly caving in on him.

The tears she’d been hanging on to for the past few hours poured forth as soon as she locked herself in one of the private rooms. She cried for a long time, until she felt all hollowed out, until there were no tears left anymore. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, yet she was as miserable as a sick dog.

She was tired of trying to make the pieces fit; it was no use, something was missing, and for years she’d thought she’d find it by following in her mother’s footsteps. She’d thought she’d feel better about herself if she got that Gucci dress, that Louis Vuitton handbag, if she strutted herself on stage with thousands of jealous eyes, ogling her, wishing they were her. But, at that moment, in the lonely room, with the glass walls closing in on her, she knew the joke was on her. No one wanted her broken life…

She looked up, and smiled sadly when she saw the private stash of booze. She’d sit here forever, drink herself to death, or until the dark cloud  passed, whichever one came first.

Fuck the gala dinner…Fuck Kendra and her fashion show. Fuck Alfonso for still thinking their mother loved them…But fuck the man who never wanted her…Never wanted to acknowledge her as his own…Fuck him for making her, and leaving the broken, mangled mess behind.

Yes, she’d drink herself to a mindless stupor…