Abigail
We were on our way to the benefit for St. Jude's, and I was so nervous I could hardly stand it. Jana Reynolds had taken me on as her own personal project. She had been wonderful. She even made me an appointment with a stylist at her salon so that I could get my hair and makeup done, and she paid for it even though I tried to take care of it myself.
Kristen had gone with me to choose a dress, but we were in contact with Jana the whole time, and she helped us select one based on photos we sent her from the dress shop. I went with a deep red, almost wine color because Jana and Kristen both agreed that it suited my hair and skin. I thought I might go with baby blue to try to bring out my eyes, but everyone seemed to think red was the choice.
They liked the contrast and said it complimented my eyes just as much as the blue one I tried. I was happy because I loved the dress so much—I just loved the way it fit. It made me feel like royalty. It was sleeveless, but it had a high neck and back. The bodice was fitted with a lace overlay. It was fitted down to the waist and, because the fabric was slightly stretchy, it hugged my curves in just the right way. The long, flared skirt barely brushed the floor as I walked. It was modest yet tempting, and I felt as confident as a girl could, given that I had never been to anything like this and knew no one besides Jana, Bill, and Ash. I was technically Ash's date, but I rode with Jana and Bill since he had to be there ahead of time to set up and prepare.
I had listened to Ash's recordings on my phone, and I had heard him play at his house, but it was a miniscule amount that only served to show me how a cello worked. He even let me try it, which was fun even though I had no skills. He was willing to play more for me, but I purposefully refrained from letting him because I thought it would make tonight extra special. As we drove toward the ballroom, part of me wished I had listened to him play before. I was so very nervous that, in the back of my mind, I thought maybe if I had already heard him play, I would be able to calm down a little bit.
I was so excited that I was trembling.
I normally wore hippie deodorant without antiperspirant, but tonight, I borrowed Kristen's heavy-duty stuff, and I was so glad I had. I had all sorts of delirious thoughts and fears on my way to the venue. What if my deodorant fails? What if I spill on my dress? What if I rip it? What if I trip and fall? What if I break a heel? What if I fart? I knew that wasn't a lady-like thing for me to wonder, and I should probably be ashamed to admit that it even crossed my mind, but it was an actual concern. I had listened to enough of Ash's recorded cello music to know that, at certain moments, it got really quiet. It was a genuine fear of mine that, during one of these quiet moments, I would accidentally… well, fart. Or my stomach would growl really loud, or I would fall backward in my chair, or drop my fork, or some other loud, embarrassing thing like that. I was so anxious about the evening that my mind entertained silly fears and concerns such as these.
On the outside, I kept quiet. I smiled and tried to appear as confident and elegant as possible, but on the inside, I was ninety to nothing with thoughts of things that could possibly go wrong. I was like a swan floating on the surface of the water. Above the water, the swan is just sitting gracefully, looking like she doesn't have a care in the world, but below the water, her feet were paddling like crazy. I knew I was only afraid because I wanted to be perfect for him. I knew I was putting all sorts of unnecessary pressure on myself.
The benefit was bigger and more elaborate than I imagined. At the entrance of the ballroom, there was a check-in table. We gave our names to a hostess, and she checked the list, smiling at me with newfound appreciation when she saw that I was Ash's guest.
"Photos are right this way," she said, coming around the table to usher us to a separate room.
I walked with Jana and Bill, but I quickly noticed that I wouldn't be taking a photo. There was an elaborate set-up with a backdrop and huge studio lights, where couples or groups would stand and pose. The hostess explained that after we took our photo, someone else would be there to give us our gift bag and show us to our table.
I knew I wasn't going to get in a photo with Jana and Bill, so I figured there was no use in waiting in the line with them. "I think I'll skip the photo," I said, talking mostly to the hostess who was still standing there.
"Oh, of course," she said. "If you'd like, I'll show you to your table."
"Is she with us?" Jana asked.
The hostess looked regretfully clueless. "I'm not sure," she said.
"We don't have to take a picture," Jana said.
Bill looked perfectly happy with that statement, but I shook my head and waved them off. "I'll be fine," I said, giving Jana a reassuring smile. "I'll try to find Ash. We'll see you guys in there."
"Ash?" The hostess said as we walked away. "Is that what he goes by?" She glanced at me as we walked, and I gave her a little smile and nod. She stopped at the second hostess table on our way out of the photo room and checked the list to see where I was sitting. She grabbed a gift bag that I assumed was for me. "I had the chance to meet him earlier," she said as we continued walking together. "We all had to be here early, and I went over to the stage when he was setting up."
"Oh, okay," I said cordially, since I didn't know what else to say.
"He's really nice," she added. "I didn't expect him to be so young, and… I don't know… fashionable."
She was saying Ash was hot. She was being discreet, but she smiled at me in such a way that I knew what she was getting at. I didn't know whether to be proud or jealous.
The main room was extravagantly decorated. There was a stage at the far end. The round tables that covered the floor between where I stood and the stage were draped with white tablecloths and decorated with beautiful centerpieces.
"You're at one of the VIP tables since you're a guest of Mr. Winters," she said.
We walked between the tables, heading closer and closer to the stage. Some people were already sitting in their seats, and I made eye contact with a few of them. I smiled. Some people smiled back, but not all of them. What I found was that the men gave me genuine smiles, but the women's were more forced. I told myself it was because they were all worried about breaking a heel or dropping a fork like me, which was probably the truth.
"This is your table," the hostess said, smiling and extending a hand as we approached. She handed me my gift bag, and I took it with a thankful nod. "The silent auction is right through those doors," she explained, pointing.
"Mr. Winters will either be in there or backstage. You're welcome to wait here or mingle around. There are more hostesses in the silent auction room. They can explain how it works."
I gave her a nod. "Thank you," I said.
There were already two people sitting at the table, a man and a lady. They were on the other side, but the man got out of his chair so that he could lean over and extend a hand to shake mine.
"Manny Lopez," he said. "And this is my wife, Claudia."
"Abigail," I said.
Claudia stood up and walked around her husband to greet me. She had on a teal sequin gown that fit tightly and flared at the bottom like a mermaid. She smiled at me as we greeted one another, and it seemed entirely sincere, which was a relief. We had a short exchange where I apologized for making her get out of her chair.
"Did I hear her say you're here with Ash?" Manny asked.
I nodded. "Do you know him?" I assumed he did on account of him using his shortened name, but I asked anyway.
Manny gestured to the stage. "I have the honor of playing bass with him," he said.
"It's going to be a wonderful performance," Claudia added. "I heard them during rehearsals, and it was outstanding. Ash is so very talented."
I smiled at her, and gave her a little nod. I felt awkward, though. I felt like I wanted to thank her for saying that, but I wasn't sure if I had the right to do so. It almost felt like I was taking too much ownership.
"I'm really excited about hearing you guys play," I said, hoping that was an appropriate response.
I was officially overthinking everything.
I looked down at the table, noticing my name card. I set my bag in my chair. "I think I might go try to find Ash," I said.
"He's not backstage," Manny said. He pointed toward the auction room. "The lady running the event asked him to go in there."
"Is he busy?" I asked, not wanting to interrupt.
Manny shook his head. "I think she just wanted him in there to draw people to the auction."
The auction room, like the rest of the event, was much larger than I anticipated. There were people everywhere—laughing, talking, mingling, and looking famous. There was music playing, and as I scanned the room, I noticed that a small jazz band was set up in the corner. Again, I was shivering with nerves, but I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and glanced around, looking as cool and confident as I could.
Then I caught sight of him. Ash. My chest tightened, and I drew another deep breath. He was absolutely dashing. He had on an all-black tux. Everything was black—his jacket, shirt, vest, and tie, and everything was fitted to perfection. He looked like a movie star, a prince. I was so happy to see him that I stopped in my tracks near the doorway and just stood there and watched. He was standing on the right side of the room, talking to someone I couldn't see from where I was standing.
"Hello, and welcome," said a woman's voice. I turned to find someone standing there, smiling at me. She held out a brochure, and I instinctually took it from her. "Thank you for visiting the auction room," she continued. "This pamphlet will explain a little more about the items up for bid. The volunteers all have on these corsages. Just let one of us know if you have any questions."
"Thank you," I said with a nod.
By the time I looked back at Ash, I could see who he was talking to. There were several people standing near him, but he was looking at a woman who was wearing a bright red dress. He had turned slightly, and I could see her more clearly than I could see him now. She was blonde—not like Kristen, but platinum blonde, like Marilyn Monroe. Her dress was floor-length and her neckline was so low that I could see skin all the way down to her bellybutton. There were two slim chiffon panels covering her chest and I could see her entire leg peeking out of the sheer skirt. I didn't know it was possible to look that elegant and show that much skin at the same time.
I was instantly jealous of her, simply because of her proximity to Ash.
I saw Ash turn to talk to someone else—a man who was standing near him. He moved to shake the man's hand and then proceeded to greet a few others who were standing close by. He stepped away from the woman in red, but she stayed close, making conversation with someone else who had joined the group.
I watched them for a few more seconds before realizing that I needed to walk over there, otherwise, he might never see me. Again, I took another deep breath. I repeated different words in my mind as I walked.
Confidence.
Security.
Grace.
Love.
Happiness.
Breathe.
Slow breaths.
Shoulders back.
Smile.
Confidence.
Happiness.
Ash.
Oh, Ash.
The closer I got to him, the more everything else faded away—my fears, nervousness, and insecurities seemed to vanish as I zeroed in on his flawless face. His dark hair was combed neatly away from his face and to the side in a slightly more polished version of his signature style. His black tux fit him perfectly. It made him look tall and broad across the chest. He was sharp and striking, and with everyone standing around vying for his attention, it seemed like a scene from a movie.
Finally, he glanced my way.
Seconds seemed like hours as I watched him notice me and then realize who I was. He smiled cordially at me before doing a double take, after which his smile broadened immensely. He looked relieved to see me, which caused my heart to swell.
"I'm sorry, if you'll please excuse me," he said, nodding at the people standing around him. I was just close enough to him by that point that I could barely hear what he was saying enough to put it together with the movement of his lips.
He skirted around the back of the group, looking like he was in a hurry to get to me. We closed the remaining distance between each other, not stopping until there was only a foot or so of space between us.
We were so close I could smell him—feel his presence in the air. The tension between us was tangible. He scanned me from head to toe, taking his time, looking at my hair, then my face, then my dress, all the way down to the floor before his eyes met mine again.
I just watched him.
He was so gorgeous.
I was breathless under his scrutiny.
"Good evening, my darling Abigail," he said with an easy smile.