Page 29 of Liberating Bells
“Oh, I got that in the mail today. Izabel’s Historical Society is hosting a gala and silent auction,” I explain with a shrug.
“That soundsfancy,” Josie says, her lips pulling up into a smirk. “I see she had the decency to invite me too. So are you gonna ask me or what?”
I smile at my friend. “What, are you expecting a prom-posal?”
Josie waves me off with a brush of her hand. “No, I think a simple‘Please, Josie, will you be the Cinderella to my Prince Charming and come to the ball with me?’will do.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “How about just, will you go with me?”
She gives a big dramatic sigh and then grins. “Okay, fine, you’ve convinced me! But I’m not going anywhere near any type of glass slippers!”
11
RYAN
Josieand I roll up to the banquet hall where the gala is being held this evening. I park the car and leave the keys in the ignition. Strutting around to the other side, I pull open the passenger door and hold out a hand for my date. She places her dainty hand in mine and steps out, her floor-length red dress swishing around her.
I nod to the valet, and they hustle to move my car out of the driveway. Tucking Josie’s hand into my elbow, I give her a grin.
“Ready for this?” I ask her.
She smiles back, her white teeth glinting against the red stain of her lips. “Only if you are.
I straighten out my tux with my free hand and nod forward. “Let’s do this.”
My heart is racing. I don’t think I’ve ever attended a function this fancy in my life. I’m immensely glad Josie is next to me, keeping me steady. This seems more her scene than it does mine.
We walk through the doors, and I’m blown away by the intricacies of the event. White gossamer banners are draped across the ceiling, covering twinkle lights crisscrossed across the exposed beams. Round tables are dotted across the floor,each with their own satin tablecloth and blue and purple flower centerpieces. On the other side of the room, in front of a stage, a large floor area remains open. A band is set up on the stage, softly playing melodies.
Josie and I aren’t late. We’re fashionably on time, yet a few couples stand on the dance floor already, swaying gently to the music.
On one long wall, rectangular tables are filled with a variety of gift baskets and other high-priced items—the silent auction. People are meandering down the line, observing, and reading what each item contains. Across the room, staff members set up the buffet table, all dressed in black uniforms.
I tighten my grip on Josie’s hand as I look around and spot my friends at a table at the other end of the room.
“Oh, there’s Izabel,” Josie whispers in my ear, bringing me to a halt. My head whips around, looking for her. Andthere she is. “She’s beautiful.”
Indeed, she is.
Izabel walks toward us, her hand tucked into Mark the Asshole’s elbow. She has a soft smile on her face, her eyes twinkling underneath the lights above.
She’s wearing a dark blue strapless dress that hugs her torso tightly. The gown is skin-tight until it reaches her hips, where it flares out like a waterfall, reaching the floor. Dotted along her top half are tiny rhinestones, making her glitter like starlight.
Her hair is pulled up tightly, with a few twirled strands hanging loose. What I wouldn’t give to have those pieces of her soft hair wrapped around my fingers. The brilliant blue hue of her eyes stands out against her blue dress as they similarly roam over me.
My mouth goes dry as the couple walks closer. When a waitress strolls by with a tray of champagne glasses, I hail herdown and grab one for myself and one for Josie. I keep my eyes on Izabel as I take a sip of the bubbly drink.
“Close your mouth, you dummy,” Josie scolds. “You look like a fish.”
I snap my jaw shut and stand up straighter, trying not to meet Mark’s eyes as he gives me a harsh look. Our conversation from a few weeks ago rings through my ears, my skin crawling as I remember his threat.
“Hi, Ryan,” Izabel says softly once she’s standing in front of us. My eyes trail over her body once more, drinking her in and noting any possible change in her since I saw her last—the night I kissed her. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell her honestly, meeting her gaze. “I know how much this means to you.” Then I shoot Mark a glare, and he frowns.
Izabel is beaming, the verbal daggers appearing to go right over her head. She turns to my date and offers a hand. “You must be Josie. It’s nice to officially meet you. I’m Bel—Izabel. I’m Izabel.”
I feel my chest swell with pride, and I slide my eyes to Mark, who is clenching his jaw so tightly I can see the muscles protruding out of his cheek.
