Chapter 2 - The Night Before

I make my way into the foyer of the Ritz Carlton, handing my white fur wrap into the cloakroom, I pop my ticket into my purse and make my way further inside.

It’s a black-tie event, so naturally New York’s wealthiest have gone all out, everywhere I look diamonds sparkle around women’s necks catching the soft lighting of the chandeliers above them, as they hang on to the arms of their escorts. Men in tux’s clink whiskey glasses and boast about how much money they’ve made this quarter. Soft Jazz plays in the background; the band hasn’t started yet, and waiters move through the crowd offering drinks and canapés.

I grab a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and take a long sip while I scan the room for my father and steel myself for the evening ahead.

I spot my father, standing with three men who are familiar to me, I’ve seen them in my father’s office on previous visits, so I assume that they work for him in some capacity, what they do I have no idea. He feels my eyes on him and beckons me over with a wave of the hand. Here we go.

‘Ivory,’ he says by way of greeting.

‘Hi dad,’ I give him a nod and a tight smile. We don’t hug, I don’t remember a time when we ever have.

‘A little late, aren’t we Ivory?’, he asks, raising his eyebrow in question. It never takes me long to disappoint him, I’m pretty sure I do it just by breathing. I turn to his colleagues and extend my hand to distract attention away from myself.

‘Ivory Hastings, a pleasure.’ I shake each of their hands in turn, doing my best to ignore how they eye me from head to toe, lingering a little too long on my hips and breasts to be discreet. I clear my throat loudly to get their attention, yip my eyes are up here boys, as all three of them grin at me shamelessly.

‘You have a beautiful daughter, Mr Hastings,’ one of them states, somewhat reluctantly turning their gaze to my father. He’s tall, lanky, blonde hair with way too much product in it, greased back so it sticks to his head and a crooked grin.

‘Thank you, Mason,’ my father replies, slapping lanky on the back like he’s done him some great favour by saying I look nice. My father turns back to me expectantly.

‘Ivory, be a good girl and dance with Mason,’ he says, giving me a gentle nudge towards lanky. He reaches out to me automatically and takes a firm grip of my elbow.

‘But dad, the band hasn’t started,’ I protest, while trying to prize my arm away from lanky. Just at that moment, the band is announced, I swear the universe conspires against me. My father smiles victorious, as I am led to the dance floor.

Lanky, or rather Mason grips my waist and pulls me close to him. He reeks of cheap cologne, and it burns my nostrils. We sway back and forth awkwardly; he clearly can’t dance.

‘You really look quite stunning, Ivory,’ he whispers into my ear, pulling me tighter, his clammy hand on my lower back, which is bare and I’m seriously regretting wearing this damn dress.

Enough of this, time to put this guy in his place.

I turn and swirl out of his arm, then step back in and start to waltz as he clumsily tries to follow my lead, I move us around the floor as he stumbles over his feet, his face reddening in embarrassment.

We pass my father as he glares at me from the side of the dance floor. I eventually slow down, allowing him to catch his breath and as I do I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder.

I turn and take in a broad chest in my view, I raise my eyes slowly to meet a set of piercing blue eyes, woah! This man is a god, tall and muscular, a shadow of hair on his face and a smile that turns me into a puddle on the floor.

‘May I have the next dance, so your date can catch his breath?’ he asks, as he tries not to laugh at a red faced and furious Mason behind me.

I take a quick look over my shoulder as I tell the handsome stranger, he’s not my date, earning me another glare from Mason as I take the stranger's hand and he pulls me into his embrace, allowing Mason to limp off to lick his wounds.

He’s so big, I feel surrounded by him. He places a hand firmly on my back and begins to move me around the floor. He’s a skilled dancer and it’s easy for me to follow him. I peek up at him through my lashes to find him staring at me intently.

‘Thank you for the rescue,’ I tell him gratefully, making him chuckle. It’s low and gravelly, it makes me want to make him laugh more just to hear it, his eyes sparkle with humour and mischief.

‘You’re welcome. What’s your name?’ he asks softly as he leads me effortlessly around the floor and drawing some attention from the other couples around us.

‘Ivory Hastings,’ and he nods as we continue to move together in synchronization.

‘What’s yours?’ I ask, wanting to know more about my mystery saviour.

‘Bryant,’ he answers, giving me a smile, then spinning me out without warning only to bring me back in closely to him and making me laugh out loud.

The music ends and he takes a step back but keeps a tight hold of my hand as leads me off the dance floor to polite applause over to the bar, I’m out of breath and thirsty.

He orders me a large glass of water, while I pull my compact out of my purse to make sure my hair and makeup are still in place, my face is flushed, and my eyes are bright.

Once I’ve checked everything is in order, I slip it back into my purse as he hands me my drink.

‘Here you go, drink up, don’t want you to get dehydrated,’ he says wryly, as he passes me my drink and I smile.

I drink half of it in one go, while he watches me with some amusement and sets my glass down on the bar.

We spend the next couple of minutes watching the other dancers in comfortable silence, the party is now full swing, and I can’t see my father anymore.

‘So, what brings you here tonight, Bryant? I ask, intrigued.

He turns to me, giving me his full attention. ‘Business,’ he says casually, leaning against the bar with one arm.

‘Successful?’ I ask.

‘I think so,’ he says, smiling mysteriously.

The room is warm and stuffy with so many bodies, I need some air, but I don’t want our night to end yet.

‘I need some air; would you mind escorting me outside?’ It really is too warm in here.

‘Of course,’ he replies, immediately offering me his arm.

We make our way out of the large function room and out into the foyer. He steers me towards the door and out into the night air.

The cold air licks my skin, however, doesn’t cool me down, I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I feel dizzy and my vision blurs. I lean into Bryant for support.

‘Are you ok?’ he asks, looking at my face seriously.

‘I don’t feel well, the street is spinning, and I feel faint,’ I reply weakly, feeling my legs buckle underneath me.

He holds me in his arms and holds me up like I weigh nothing. I can feel the muscles of his arms and chest ripple with the exertion. He leans forward and whispers into my ear.

‘You’re going to be ok, don’t fight it, he whispers.

‘Don’t fight what?’ I ask, my voice slurring, I grab hold of his shirt to try and hold myself upright.

‘I’m sorry beautiful, I had to,’ he says, as I look up at him through blurred eyes while he brushes my hair away gently from my face.

‘Y-you did this,’ I accuse, feeling darkness close around me, I only just make out his response before being pulled under.

‘Yes, I did.’