Mind the Gap

Chapter 8

The day of Sophie’s big party was cloudy, wet and cold. For the weather alone, this would have been a shitty day. But it was the phone call that I answered without checking the caller ID that was about to ruin it. Assholes have a way of doing that.

“I’m getting tired of this game, Lia. When are you coming home?”

“Jesus H. Christ, Jeremy. Why do you keep calling me?”

“I keep calling because my f*****g fiancée has run off to traipse around London instead of being home with me.”

God! This man infuriated me like no other. Well, maybe except for the Dark Lord, but that was a whole other level of infuriation and tended to set parts of my body below the neck into a tailspin. The only thing The Asshole can manage to get into a tailspin is my anger.

“Jeremy, I don’t know how many different ways you need to hear this, but we’re done. f*****g your boss, on your desk, when I walked into your office ruined what we had. So stop calling me. I live here now. I’m not coming back to you.”

“Stop being a b***h. Me screwing my boss was no reason for you to leave. In fact, you probably could have stayed around to see just why I’m still screwing her.”

And there it is…the reason I refer to him as The Asshole. Now that I’m removed from him and the six years we had together, I can see exactly how much of an asshole is he. Of course, it also reminds me of how much of a f*****g i***t I was for being so blind to some massive character flaws on his end.

And right now, I’m reminded of the fight Sophie and I had a month ago about Jeremy. He wouldn’t keep calling if I didn’t keep answering. And maybe, if I actually lashed out at him with an ounce of the anger I hold towards him, he was back off.

“I’m going to say this for the last time Jeremy, and then I’m not answering your phone calls anymore. f**k you. Continue to f**k your boss, I don’t care.  You can screw whom ever you want, whenever you want and I still won’t care. Stop calling me.”

With that I calmly pressed the done button on my phone and threw it down on my bed. From previous experience, I knew Jeremy would call me a few more times so I picked my new, fabulous iPad up from my nightstand and headed into my bathroom. If I was going to be spending hours with the upper echelon of London society tonight, I was going to soak in my gigantic tub.

Two glasses of wine and an erotic novella later, I was stepping out of the tub and preparing for Sophie’s party. Or ball. I wasn’t sure what I should be calling it. Taking the time to perfect my makeup and curling my long brown hair into ringlets and then pinning back into a romantic ponytail, I waited until the absolute last minute to carefully roll on my thigh high stockings and put on my dress. After checking myself over in the mirror, deciding that was as good as it was going to get, I slide on the elbow high gloves Kate was insisting I wear to hide my cast. I’ll admit, they did a fabulous job of pulling everything together.

“Come on, Lia. The car’s downstairs.” My brother said through the door and in between the pounding of his fist.

“Coming,” I said, more to myself than anyone else and headed out towards our front door.

“I hope I remember all the rule of etiquette. I don’t want to offend anyone tonight, Seb.”

“You’ll be fine.” My brother said not so lovingly to his wife.

“Oh good. You’re ready.” Kate grabbed her clutch and started heading towards the door. “I don’t want to be late, Lia. Who knows what it will be like when we get there.”

Cocking my head to the side, I rolled my eyes when my brother looked at me. “Kate, we have to go to Whitehall. I’m sure it’s going to be a wait. Just relax. Everyone is going to be late.”

“But we’re the Americans,” she whispered as she practically bunched the down button for the elevator. “Everyone will be watching us.”

“Oh, please. This isn’t Regency era London, Kate. Sophie’s family is just like us. Stop making a big deal out of this.”

Of course, I knew that wouldn’t stop Kate from stewing in the corner of the elevator or in the car on our way to Whitehall, which was of course packed. When she saw the line of cars you could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. My dear brother was going to have his hands full with her tonight and it was a job I was glad not to have.

After forty minutes of waiting, our car finally pulled up to the entrance of Banqueting House. The history of the building dates back to 1619 when James I commissioned Inigo Jones to design a new banqueting house to replace the one that had burned down. It’s known for the Peter Paul Rueben paintings on the ceiling. I’d never been here before, but I’d read up on it and was excited to see the magnificent paintings.

The line at security was long, but we managed to get through it and up the stairs in to the main hall, where we stood in another line.

“What’s this line for?” Sebastian asked as he pulled on his bow tie, making it crooked. Shaking my head at him, I straightened it while answering.

“Sophie said they are announcing the guests as they come in. I guess that’s why there’s a line.”

“Announcing?” Kate asked a decibel higher than she normally talks. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, at a loss for words, which in and of itself was surprising.

“Now she’ll really be handful,” Sebastian said with a smirk as we watched Kate incessantly fiddle with her hair, her jewelry and her dress. She was so preoccupied, she didn’t even notice we moved to the front of the line until the gentleman in the doorway asked for our names and checked it against a mysterious list attached to his clipboard and then whispered to the main standing inside the doorway in what I assumed was the Kingsley livery.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Benedict.”

Sebastian practically drags Kate through the doorway and to the immediate right. I can only assume a bar is there, because Kate is definitely going to need a drink.

Walking forward I smile at both men and turn my attention into the glorious room in front of me.

“Ms. Amelia Benedict”

I nodded my thanks and walked into what was called the Main Hall. It was stunning. From one end of the room to the other were the most beautiful pieces of art. The paintings were in various sizes and were absolutely breathtaking. With the soft yellow lighting that was beamed onto the columns on either side of the room and the maroon velvet curtains covering the window, the visual effect of the room was awe inspiring. I understood why this was one of the most sought after venues in London.

“Lia! Thank Christ you’re here.”

Sophie’s oldest brother James is rushing towards me, stopping momentarily to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing server’s tray. “Hi Jamie.”

“Don’t start with the f*****g Jamie thing Lia.” He throws back the entire contents of one flute. “You’ve got to reign her in. Mother is has already had to retire to the ladies room.”

“The party just started. What the hell could she have done already?” I snatched a flute off a passing tray, since it was obvious the future Duke of Inverness wasn’t going to get one for me.

“You have no idea.”

 “Enlighten me, my Lord.”

“She talked Father into allowing her to hire a DJ downstairs.”

“Yay!” I said bouncing on my feet and clapping as well as I could with champagne in one banging into my cast. “That’ll be so much fun. Remember in New York when we rented out that warehouse for her twenty-first birthday?”

“Yes, I remember. Loads of alcohol and women willing to give it up to a lonely man visiting a strange country so he could spend time with his baby sister.” He gave me this long off stare that would make almost anyone else think he was being nostalgic. I knew he was full of s**t. “And by the by, f**k off with the ‘My Lord’ shit.”

“By your command, My Lord.”

“Come with me,” he says as he gently threads my casted arm into his and leads me through the throng of people milling about the tables places down the middle of the room. I tried to take in everything as we go by, but Jamie is walking too fast and seems to be on a mission to get me somewhere. What I could see had me a little bit jealous of the fact Sophie’s parents would do something like this just to try and marry her off.

“Where the bloody hell are they?” Jamie mumbles as we get stuck in a group of women who are gushing over each other’s gowns. “Oh, there.” He changes direction and drags me to the left, towards one of the large windows. The lighting is low and I can’t tell who we are in such a hurry to find.

“Found her then?” I hear behind me and recognize the voice immediately as Anthony, Sophie’s second oldest brother. Someone I haven’t seen since I moved to London.

Quickly dropping Jamie’s arm, I turn around to find the one Kingsley brother I have the slightest crush on. “Anthony!” I throw myself at him and he manages to catch me with one arm.

“Careful, Two, this is a fifty year old Highland Park.”

“Where the f**k did you get that?” Jamie yells. “I’ve been stuck downing glasses of this God awful champagne while you’re sipping scotch that costs seventeen thousand a bottle?”

“What’d you sell?” I ask. Anthony sells real estate. Very expensive real estate. Properties that Sheiks and other royalty like to slap down millions and sometimes billions of dollars for. If you’re not going to inherit an Dukedom, making millions selling real estate ain’t a bad job either. I also knew Anthony only pulled out the Highland Park when he sold something big.

“Private Island in the Bahamas. Gorgeous property with a stunning mansion, guest and staff quarters. A certain football star and his pop princess are very happy.”

“Well done, brother. That is cause for a celebration. But first we must bring Lia over to mother so she can assure her that Sophie will be well in hand this evening.”

“Really Jamie?” I should have known I was going to be put in charge of babysitting the guest of honor. Little do they know I have no control over Sophie either. They all need to learn to just let her do her thing. The less they react to it, the more she’ll behave. Half her s**t is for shock value. “It’s her party, let her have fun. I don’t see your parents throwing a ball to find you a wife.”

“Bite your tongue, woman. I’m only thirty-five. There’s no need to marry yet.” Jamie looks horrified at the thought of being tied down to a woman.

“Back at ya, brother. What makes your parents think Sophie’s ready to marry either?”  Both of Sophie’s brothers stare at me like they’d never considered this before. “I’m pretty sure if Sophie was interested in that, she’d taking dating a bit more seriously. When she’s ready, she’s ready. Same as you three.” I pointed to the three Kingsley men standing in front of me.

Putting his hands up in front of him, Jon tried to separate himself from his brothers. “Hello, darling Lia,” he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Please don’t lump me in with these two. I think this ball is a ridiculous idea.”

Out of all of Sophie’s brothers, Jon was the one I was closest too. Mostly because he was the closest in age to me, being only eleven months older than Sophie. Jon tended to be a little bit sarcastic and more down to earth than his brothers. His approachability and the fact that he was often right there in the thick of trouble with Sophie and I in New York seemed to seal a bond between us.

“So,” Jon says as he puts his arm around my shoulder. “What’s this I hear about you practically shagging some stranger in your entryway?” I could feel the heat of embarrassment encompass my entire body as Jon walks us away from his brothers and towards the bar closest to us. “You deserve it after everything that fucker did. But what do you know about this bloke?”

I knew my face was red, since I could feel the heat to the top of my head. I knew Jon was asking from some sense of brotherhood and not wanting to see me get hurt. But I wished people would let me be. Jeremy may have ended up being a big mistake, but he wasn’t always the asshole he turned out to be.

“Don’t look like that, Lia,” Jon said as he hands me a glass of white wine. “I’m not saying this to be a complete prick, but as someone who loves you and doesn’t want to see you with a broken heart. You deserve better than you’ve had.”

Raising my glass, I let the cool, crisp liquid slide down my throat. I wasn’t sure how I should respond to Jon, especially since I knew he was saying what he was out of love. But I was tired of everyone deciding they knew better than me.

“I may not know a lot about him, Jon, but he was nice to me when he didn’t need to be. He took a complete stranger to the hospital and stayed with me when he could have dumped me off. So I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt.” I take another sip of my wine before continuing. “It’d be nice if those that supposedly love me trusted my judgement.”

“We trust you, Lia. It’s the men we doubt.”

The crowd around us starts buzzing and pushing towards the front of the room. It was almost like being at a high school dance just as the popular crowd graced everyone with their presence. Except now, woman started adjusting clothing, boobs and hair so they were all displayed properly.

“Bloody hell. This is not going to go well. Come on.” Jon quickly, but gently, grabs my arm and pulls me away from the bar. We quickly head towards the center of the room when we’re intercepted by Jamie and Anthony.

“What’s going on?” I had to ask because something was obviously going on. The guests where beyond excited, but clearly the Kingsley men weren’t.

“Things are about to get a bit lively, Two,” Anthony said with a slight smirk on his face. He looked rather amused and he was clearly trying to hide his amusement behind his glass of scotch, but I saw it.

“Don’t start anything Jame that will land you in a pile of shite with Father.”

I was so busy looking between Jamie and Jon that I missed the most recent introduction at the door. But when I heard the next name and the way the woman in attendance started pushing and shoving I had to see why. I was expecting a woman with a horrendous hat or dress, or some member of the aristocracy drunk or high and making a spectacle of themselves as they walked in. I didn’t realize what I was about to get was a reminder of exactly how much I’m out of my element and just how much I didn’t know about the man who, just yesterday, had changed my world with the brush of his lips.”

“Lord Marcus Wellsely, Marquess of Duoro and Lady Elizabeth Sussex”