Midnight Lily(55)

"All right," she said, offering me a small, nervous smile. "Yes, okay, darling. Have fun. Mingle. The night is yours. Of course it is."

We entered the ballroom, and I looked around as my grandmother led us to our table. Men looked handsome in their stylish tuxedos, and the women glittered and shone, dressed in every beautiful shade of ball gown that existed. They seemed to know the art of easy mingling, some sitting at large tables and others standing to the side. Watching them socialize effortlessly made me feel like an imposter. The tables themselves were decked in orange tablecloths with bright red, purple, and dark orange runners that looked as if they were handmade, Guatemalan I assumed. And in the centers were large bowls of bright, tropical-looking flowers. The sweet, heady fragrance wafted in the air as I sat down in front of the place card that spelled out my name in elegant hand-written calligraphy.

"The raffle items are over there, if you'd like to come with me to look at them," my grandmother said, pointing to the other side of the room where I could see large baskets and other items on high-top tables. Guests walked the rows of items, many sipping colorful cocktails and glasses of champagne.

"Yes, I would," I said, standing.

"Good. And bid on a few things," my grandmother said. "It's for a wonderful cause."

I smiled at her just as an older woman wearing a long white gown approached our table, greeting my grandmother. My grandmother introduced me to her, and we said our hellos. "I'll meet you over there," I said to my grandmother, indicating the bidding area and nodding again to the woman.

"Yes, I'll be over in a few minutes," my grandmother said, turning back to the woman in white.

I wandered through the crowd, taking a tall glass filled with pink liquid off one of the trays and taking one long drink of the sweet, but tart, cocktail. I licked my lips. "Oh, excuse me," I said to the woman who was carrying the tray. "What is this?"

"A pomegranate martini."

It was delicious. I might just have two. I'd finish them quickly before my grandmother found me.

No, no I wouldn't. It was my birthday, after all, and I was twenty-one. I was allowed.

I walked up one aisle, looking over the baskets first then moving on to the vacations, and the tickets, and the other items that were described in detail on small placards. I wrote my name down on a basket full of spa items. Why not?

What about you? What do you like, Lily?

I don't know.

So maybe it was time to find out. I signed my name below tickets for two to a Broadway show performing at a theater in San Francisco, and then to a hockey game, and a day trip to Napa Valley, including a hot air balloon ride. I had money. Maybe it was time to figure out what to spend it on. Although, should I win, I might not be in San Francisco long enough to use any of it. I took another sip of the pomegranate martini. Looking over my shoulder across the room, my grandmother was still in deep conversation with the woman in white. And now another woman had joined them. She was gesturing wildly with her hands, and my grandmother and the other woman had astonished looks on their faces. I rolled my eyes. They were probably discussing the latest gossip at the tennis club my grandmother had joined.

"Oh look, a trip to Paris," a man said. I stilled, ice moving up my spine.

"Have you ever been?" a woman asked. With auburn hair swept into a chignon and wearing a black gown that dipped down her back, she was the picture of elegance.

"No. But I'd love to go someday," the man next to her said, a smile in his voice. My body froze completely. I knew that voice. Would know it anywhere. Oh God. Shock hit me like a physical blow and I backed up several steps, bumping into someone behind me.

My pulse jumped crazily, and I tried to apologize to the man I'd bumped into, but no words came out. He gave me a strange look but then smiled politely, moving aside. I looked back to the couple still in front of me. My blood was buzzing in my veins, and I felt like I might throw up. This could not be happening. Life could not be this cruel. Oh yes, Lily, it can. Life is pissing itself right now at the opportunity to be this cruel. Life is rubbing its hands in excited glee at this very moment.

They were both still looking in the other direction. He was laughing now, saying something in her ear, his hand on the small of her back.

He . . . Ryan.

Oh no, no, no.

It was definitely him. I would know him anywhere by the way he held his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the deep golden hue of his hair, the cadence of his laughter. The woman he was with tipped her head back and laughed along with him. Then she turned, and taking his face in her hands, she kissed him. Oh God. He appeared briefly surprised but then he was kissing her back. They were kissing, and I was standing there behind them, shaking, a martini tipping out of my hand. I sucked in a breath, my knees almost buckling, reaching my arm out, placing my glass on a table to my right. Or maybe I'd missed completely. I had no idea. Static filled my head and bile rose in my throat. My guts churned painfully. Run, Lily. All you have to do is turn and run. Do it now. Only I couldn't. I was rooted to the spot, unable to move, watching them kiss, his eyes closed, the lips that had once moved over my skin so lovingly now locked with hers.

"Lily, darling. There you are," my grandmother sing-songed loudly, coming up behind me, breaking through the painful spell I was under and causing me to gasp out loud. As if in a dream—a nightmare—I watched Ryan's muscles tense, and the girl pulled away from him, looking at him quizzically. The look on his face must have given her pause because she tilted her head, her lips moving. She must be asking him what was wrong. His head turned toward me, and I tripped backward again. He was turning. Oh, God.