Hell on Heels(13)

The room had fallen heavy with sorrow, and I felt the air claw at my neck as I struggled.

Almost over.

“My brother told me once that alcohol had taken everything he’d ever loved from him, and yet still, he wanted it. It was the love of his life, it was his best friend, and it is what killed him. Henry was my angel with no halo and one wing in the fire, and it is in his memory that I started The Halo Foundation four and a half years ago.”

Applause ensued, and the pressure in my chest eased long enough for me to finally breathe.

“It is my hope that we can prevent what happened to my family from happening to yours. Addiction touches the lives of nearly every one you meet, and currently only one in ten addicts seek treatment for their disease. It is my hope that we can one day see that number be 100%.”

More applause.

“This year has been an incredible year for us. Through your donations, we have managed to integrate our addiction education program into post secondary schools across British Columbia, Alberta, and Ontario. It is our hope that in this next year we will continue to expand into the remaining provinces until we are in every school across Canada.” I paused to allow the clapping to subside. “It has also been a remarkable year for our Clean Teens initiative program. In British Columbia alone, we have helped over three hundred teens get clean this year.”

More applause.

“I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your continued support, and it is a pleasure to have you joining us this evening at the Fourth Annual Halo Foundation Gala.”

I exited the stage to applause as Kevin returned to the podium to thank our sponsors, the first of which was political candidate Beau Callaway.

The 2014 elected mayor, Jeffrey Huntsman, was not in attendance and would be finishing out his year in office, and the mayoral municipal election for which Beau was running would take place in November of next year.

Leaning against the railing to the stairs, I pressed my eyes tightly closed.

I love you, Charlie bear.

“I miss you,” I said to the voice in my head.




“To Charleston.” Emma raised her champagne flute in the galley of the hotel kitchen.

“To Charleston,” the rest of the team, including Kevin, Tina and Tom repeated after her.

The speeches had concluded and the party was officially underway. We were celebrating a job well done, and I was already emotionally exhausted.

“To all of you.” I lifted my flute of ginger ale into the air. “Thank you, for everything.”

We toasted, and Kevin wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Proud of you, Char.”

I leaned into his body and nodded.

“Where’s the dreamboat?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to go say hi yet.”

Kevin sighed. He knew me well.

“Want to dance?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the top of my head and emptied his champagne glass.

“We’re going to mingle.” He tapped his breast pocket, indicating he had his cellphone. “Buzz if you need us.”

Sliding his arm from my shoulders, he joined our hands together and we joined the party.

“Where’s your date?” I asked, as he spun me around.

Kevin rarely came stag to an event, and he was also a magnificent dancer.

Rolling his eyes, I saw him scan the crowd over my head. “He’s dull, but probably around here somewhere, boring some pour soul to death.”

“What do you mean he’s dull?”

Kevin dipped me and whispered, “It’s like having sex with a mime.”

Throwing my head back, I laughed.

“Actually, a mime might even be better.” He frowned and lifted us upright again.

“So why did you ask him to be your date?” I questioned, now having composed myself enough to speak.

It felt nice to talk about something other than Henry for a few minutes.

“Char, darling.” He winked behind his mask. “Mime sex is still better than no sex.”

I laughed again, and Kevin smiled.

He was trying to make me feel better, and it was working.

“May I cut in?”

Looking over my shoulder, all I saw was a wall of black Prada and hard man-chest.

“Sure thing,” Kevin drawled.

I wasn’t even able to mock him, because I was still looking up, up, and up. The man looked like something straight out of a Sylvester Stallone movie.

I felt Kevin’s lips on my cheek. “Relax, Char.”

Then his hands were gone, rougher ones taking their place on my naked back.

Even in my heels, this man stood at least five inches taller than me. His chest was broad enough that I was almost certain his suit had to be a result of a custom fitting. Brown hair in messy waves fell to just above his shoulders, and through his mask, I could tell his eyes mirrored the colour of coal.

He was intimidating just with the sheer size of him, but he was surprisingly graceful as he moved me across the dance floor.

I should have balked at the hands of a strange man on me so publically, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. There wasn’t even the smallest part of me that grew concerned over his potential identity. This excitement seemed to call to the part of me that revelled in the exchange of new highs.

That part of me was hungry tonight amidst the angst, and I was a woman who fed the addiction in her.