Michelle Monkou - The One That I Want

Cameras didn’t stop flashing. Were they all so fascinating, to need every facet of their life on record? He tried to shield his eyes but couldn’t manage that and see to walk. Feeling more than a tad self-conscious, he retreated between a gap in the lineup. The rest of the family all dealt with it like pros.

Dresden concentrated hard on not barfing onstage. Alongside him, he witnessed Fiona, like her cousins, charm the audience with her testimonial of love and devotion for her grandmother. Their sincerity stirred up warm, cozy feelings about family and legacy. While they lauded Grace’s impact to their lives, he related the same feelings to his memories of his adoptive parents. Nothing would change where his loyalty resided. Except, a deep-seated fear formed that he could fall under the spell of the Meadowses.

Meanwhile, the guests continued cheering through Fiona’s speech. They were the fans for the home team, fully engaged at a pep rally. How would he follow her blaze of glory with his version as the new Meadows? What emotional bloodletting would he have to perform for the guests’ satisfaction?

The anxiety had him wishing that he was back at the bar admiring a particularly sexy woman in her red-hot minidress. Timing wasn’t on his side, but he’d make do with the temporary opportunity.

Damn, it was his turn. Fiona offered a final wave before she left the podium to rejoin the line of grandchildren. His nerves popped and multiplied in the pit of his belly. Too many thoughts to process and no time for second-guessing. Dresden rubbed his palms along his pant legs and blew out a shaky breath.

The short walk to the podium felt a mile long. But nothing more delayed his face time with the guests. He tried to smile. Tried to make his face relax. Tried to hold it together.

He dug deep and imagined standing in front of a freshman class. This was nothing more than teaching the early history of Canada. If he was lucky, he’d have to deal with only a few glazed stares.

“Tonight I’m here with the Meadowses to celebrate Grace’s birthday. Thank you for the invitation.” He inclined his head toward the head table. “Right now...” He paused, trying to direct his words so that only positivity flowed. “This has been...quite a year.” A few chuckles joined in with his weak laughter. He scratched his forehead, although there was no itch, just an unease that wouldn’t stay buried. “A lot to take in. And we will move onward and upward. So, um...enjoy the meal.”

Then he took a step back from the podium. With a loud exhalation, he looked over at Fiona. Sorry. He mouthed the word before looking back out over the crowd. A soft buzz of chatter gradually filled in the silence after he finished.

He sought one person’s judgment—Laxmi’s. He was sure Grace regretted his stumbling debut to her friends. That was why he’d rather deal with Laxmi and her series of pointed questions about his behavior than Fiona’s or Grace’s disappointment.

Without pausing to analyze the consequences of the next steps, Dresden walked briskly off the stage. His strides lengthened and picked up momentum toward the exit. Escape. Freedom. All he wanted right now was cool air filling his lungs.

He reached the hotel entrance out of breath, but grateful, and pushed open the door. The temperature had dropped significantly, adding a frigid edge to the already frosty condition. His face tightened against the wind but he needed the briskness to take his mind off his actions.

“Sir, do you need a taxi?” An attendant stepped up, ready to hail a cab with his whistle.

“I guess I should get one.” Dresden looked around for the limo. He’d gotten out of the vehicle without ensuring that he had a ride after the party. And there was no sign of the car or driver.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take the runaway to his hotel.”

The attendant nodded and left him at the curb.

Dresden slowly turned in the direction of Laxmi’s voice. She greeted him with a cocky smirk and headed over to the valet service booth. A red coat shielded her body against the cold. Like the red dress, the perfectly matched coat complemented her skin. And, oh, man, that strut she had was always a pleasure to watch.

First, he didn’t know if he wanted to be rescued. Second, should she be his knight in a hot minidress? But he didn’t want to ponder the dilemmas for any real answer.

A spectacular red Ferrari Sergio roared into view and pulled up beside them. Dresden watched Laxmi tip the valet before sliding behind the steering wheel.

Did she plan for every part of her life to be in sync? The sports car matched its owner—brash and eye-catching with compelling power moves. As she fluffed out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders in a thick, curly black curtain, he knew she had the “it” factor for an expensive car ad.

“Oh, come on. I’m harmless.” The limited-edition roadster’s engine revved like a signal for him to get in and enjoy the ride.

“I’m not supposed to take rides from strangers.” He tried not to fall under her spell. All night he had tried, but as his hand closed on the door handle, he knew he couldn’t go on unless he surrendered to this woman.

An exciting shiver ran along his spine. She pressed a red lipstick to her bottom lip and smoothed on a fresh coat. He followed its path over the curves and valley of her lips. To survive the moment, he looked around for a distraction.

Seeing the valet looking longingly at the car instead of drooling over Laxmi worked for Dresden. Not that he could claim to be jealous of someone he didn’t know.

“Didn’t envision this gem as my getaway car.” He got into the tight space and pushed back his seat to match hers.

“And I never imagined that I’d be racing off with such a worthy prize.”

“Prize? Guess that’s what I am...to them.” He looked toward the entrance. The way he’d left, the things he’d said or hadn’t said—all of it ran on a continuous loop. There was no coming back from this. Should he never have said yes to Fiona’s invite? Now he’d made a mess of things and embarrassed Grace on her birthday. He swore under his breath.

“Want to head back in?”

“No. Actually, I did what I came to do. No more. No less.” He shrugged off the denial that popped up.

“At least sleep on it. You might think differently in the morning.”

“Are you the getaway driver or my therapist?” So what if he sounded ungrateful?

* * *

Laxmi didn’t consider herself the most observant person. Her client, Tonea, tended to accuse her of being clueless most of the time. Tonight was one of the occasions when clarity arrived and stuck around long enough for her to pay attention to her new drinking buddy—Dresden, the missing Meadows.

She sensed that he had been equally nervous about attending the party, of course, for different reasons. His reluctance to engage was understandable, but also a welcome distraction. Plus, he was so darn fine that she couldn’t resist flirting.

But when he went onstage, she saw the panic. She recognized the signs of feeling out of control, looking out at the crowd for approval and hoping to impress. His panic got the better of him and he bolted.

As soon as he left the stage, Laxmi shot out of her seat and followed. Maybe she was looking for an excuse to also leave, but there was a part of her that was genuinely interested in Dresden.

Even if he met her concern with full-out suspicion.

* * *

“I’m Fiona’s friend. So, she matters and, by default, you matter.”

“Then let me relieve you of that obligation.” He reached for the door handle.

But his head hit the headrest as Laxmi pushed the gas pedal. Tires squealed. Pedestrians skipped out of the way, hopping onto the curb. Their departure from the front of the hotel turned into a blurred flash of buildings and lights.