The Fake Fiancée

Chapter 2

The venue of the event is tastefully decorated, surreal, and reeks of money.

The rich were raising money for manatees or sea turtles or some kind of endangered marine life in an Upper West Side art gallery. They were scribbling checks with one hand while downing signature cocktails and stuffed mushroom caps with the other.

“These are divine,” a woman in black sequins sighed, plucking another appetizer from my tray. “The only reason I come to these things is for the food,” she confessed.

I smiled at her. “In that case, don’t miss the brief toast points.”

I made a lap around the far side of the room, smiling politely and pointing out the restrooms when asked.

I moved on, circulating like a ghost through the crowd until my tray was empty. Back in the cramped kitchen, I restocked. Jana, my boss, slid through the door with a tray of dirty glasses.

“Another hour, and we start packing up,” she sang. Her blonde hair was streaked with turquoise today.

“And Estella, at the far end of the hall, a woman is requesting champagne,” Jane added.

I was tired already. Can this night just end? I thought. I couldn’t wait for that hour to end. I picked up the champagne to serve the woman as requested.

I bumped against a man dressed in a suit, his clothes drenched from the champagne giving the white shirt a nude color.

“I am very……”

The man's nostrils flared, his glare hostile as he cut me off from my apology. “Will you shut up? Can't you see? Are you blind?

“I am very sorry sir”. I tried apologizing again.

The man stood, his fist clenched to his sides, rolled his shoulders back, and glared at me.

“Care to say it again” he asked.

The room felt like it was closing in around me. In my mind, I was growing larger and larger, and my nose stung. Tears prick the backs of my eyes. My job is gone, and I have no stream of income again.

Everyone was looking at the “tea”. I was embarrassed. The man was still fuming.

A man also dressed in a suit dashed across. He appeals to the man to let go.

Trying to save myself any more embarrassment, I leave and escape towards the balcony.

The blast of wind was strong enough to make me wobble a bit, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the wind snuck around the opening of my uniform and wrapped me in its chilly embrace. I closed the balcony door behind me and dragged in a deep, frigid breath.

Gripping the railings tight, I burst into tears. The hospital bills, her health is deteriorating badly. I don’t know if it’s worse when she doesn't recognize me at all or when she's coherent for a little while and then forgets who I am. And she thinks my father's alive. It's not an unusual occurrence.

On a good day, she’s coherent enough for us to have a normal conversation. There have even been a few days when she’s been her cheerful self throughout the entire visit, though those days have been dwindling, of late. She grows more withdrawn and confused as the day wears on, which is why I prefer to come in the early part of the day to see her. How much longer will I be able to do that? How long can I keep pretending that the mother I knew isn't all but gone in the flesh?

The ball of emotion in my throat grows bigger. I swallow around it and scan her features—pale cheeks, thin lips, and hollows under her eyes. Vestiges of her beauty cling to her features, and if I stare hard enough, I can still see the animated mother who’d drive me home from school, and play the piano in the mornings so I’d always wake up to the sound of one of her favorite sonatas, encourage me in the kitchen and recount what a bundle of joy I am.

I feel a tender, velvety touch against the skin around my shoulder blades. I'm startled. I was so lost that I did not hear any movement around me. I whip back my vision blurry. I wiped my eyes, trying to see who touched me.

I find a pair of darkest brown eyes staring at me. It's creepy but calm and soothing. What are you doing up here? I wondered.

Getting a closer look at the fellow, try to place the face.

Oh, the stranger that tried to appeal to the man. Recognition dawned on me.

“Thank you for your assistance in pacifying the man”. The words fly out of my mouth.

“Are you fine?” he states.

“I'm good; I just need a moment for myself.”

“Are you sure you are not crying?” he asks this time.

I wipe my face again, trying to clean my tears again.

“I'm fine, pretty good.”

“I am sorry for what transpired there.”

Why is he apologizing

“Oh, never mind, you did nothing.”

I take in his features again, the eyes drawing me closer again. They are like a sea of thoughts. He was tall and ridiculously tall. Tall enough to make me take a wary step backward and looming over me. There was even a touch of it on his sharp jawline.

His shoulders were broad, like an athlete's shoulders. The suit was tapered and fit snugly, showcasing his broad chest. The fabric hung on him smartly and looked like it would be buttery soft, too.

“What's your name?” I'm brought back to the present.

“My name is ……, Es…..Estella.”

“Estella Goldbloom.”

“Estella, that's a sweet name.”

“My mother named me,” I replied.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I'm Edward.” He says.

We shake hands in acknowledgment.

He goes on then “ Don't you think it's a bit chilly and late to be out here? Let's head in.”

My present worrying is brought back. I can't go back in, and I can't tell you that as well. I have to take my leave.

“Well, I don't think I'm needed anymore today. I will take my leave.”

Edward replies with a shocking statement.

“ Maybe I need your help.”