Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (17 page)

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Authors: S. L. Wallace

Tags: #romance, #action, #dystopia, #political thriller, #orwellian

BOOK: Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!)
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My dress included a dark brown background
with emerald flowers embroidered over it. Keira thought it enhanced
my eyes. Coming in from each side, two triangles arrived at a
point. The forest green skirt was dark at the top and grew lighter
at the bottom.

When I finished, I handed the paper to Zuri.
He carefully studied my drawings before looking at me with fresh
appreciation. Then, he conferred with Calista for a few minutes and
directed us to the next room.

Zuri added white highlights to Keira's short
black hair. Then she received a trim. As a finishing touch, he used
a beaded pearl band to draw her hair away from her face.

While Zuri worked on Keira's hair, Calista
began on mine. She refreshed my golden blond highlights before
expertly shaping it with a trim.

Then, we each received a facial followed by
a makeover. Zuri and Calista took care to show us the products they
were using and how to apply them. The makeup would be sent with us
so we could perform touch ups as needed throughout the evening.

We ended with a pedicure/manicure. The
reporter and his assistant moved away to pan across other famous
faces. When they stepped aside, I noticed the young woman who sat
next to Keira. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her.
Her long blond hair had been done up in an intricately woven
pattern that must have taken an hour, at least. Long dark lashes
accentuated her bright blue eyes.

“Kendra James,” she said in a condescending
tone.

Keira shot her a sideways glance.

“I've seen you on the news. Making quite a
spectacle of yourself, aren't you?” The woman studied the nails on
her right hand while the beauty technician worked on her left.

“You're in the news quite a bit yourself,
Adira,” Keira said.

Adira Armstrong. That's why I'd recognized
her. She was the eldest of the Prime Minister's daughters. Keira
had always said something shady was going on with that family.
Minister Armstrong had been in the ministry for over 20 years, far
longer than anyone else.

“Yes, well, I use publicity wisely.”

I held my breath. Why is she picking a
fight? Oh, Keira, please don't react.

“Why don't you just say what you mean?”

“Poor little orphan Kendra, trying to climb
up the social ladder. And I assume you're getting all dolled up for
the RFO benefit tonight? That's fitting."

I looked across the room. The man with the
vid'recorder had just noticed that something interesting was
happening. He tapped the reporter on the shoulder, and they began
moving back in our direction. I reached out and put my hand on
Keira's forearm. Please don't respond. She looked daggers at Adira
but said nothing.

Adira smiled sweetly. “By the way, you're
not his first, and you won't be his last.”

Her stylist stood. “You're all finished,
Miss Armstrong.” Apparently the staff didn't want a fight
either.

Adira hopped down from her chair and headed
to the front desk. As she walked away, she said, “Richard Burke was
quite a treat. I may just go back for seconds.”

I slid my hand down and gripped Keira's. Her
jaw was tense.

“Don't let her get to you,” I whispered. The
man with the vid'recorder had arrived. He zoomed in on Keira's
face.

Zuri winked at her, and she returned his
friendly smile.

At the front desk, Keira studied the bill
and then looked at Zuri. “You've made a mistake. We owe you more
than this.”

“Artist's special,” Zuri said. He smiled at
me.

***

Keira and I stood in front of the living
room window. A crowd had already gathered below, most certainly due
to Keira's call to Everyday Elite earlier in the day. Shortly after
5:30, Hisoka arrived. He skirted the vid crews scattered below.
They caught a few shots of him, but for the most part, they let him
pass with no fuss. Not more than a minute later, Guy arrived in a
white limo. That caused a flurry of commotion. I responded to the
knock at the door while Keira watched Guy interact with the
reporters below.

“Aimee, you look...amazing! Instead of me
posing for you, maybe you would pose for me?”

Keira turned her head slightly, clearly
holding back a grin.

I blushed and said, “Come in.”

Hisoka nodded at Keira and said, “Good
evening.”

She nodded too and turned back to the
window. “Oh good, they let him through!” Keira hurried past us to
the door. She flung it open before Guy had the chance to knock,
glanced at Hisoka and me and reached for Guy's hand. “We should go.
Your mother will be waiting.”

And just like that, they were gone. I looked
at Hisoka. The apartment sounded eerily silent with just the two of
us. Then the noise from the reporters picked up again. I went to
the window but turned when Hisoka coughed quietly.

“What is it?”

“We shouldn't be here, like this, alone in
your apartment. It isn't proper.”

“What about painting alone in the back of an
art gallery?”

“That's different. There are people out
front. It's a place of business, not your home. We don't know each
other well enough yet.”

Yet. I turned to look out the window. “I
just want to be sure they make it into the limo. Then we can
go.”

Despite his reluctance, Hisoka walked over
and looked out the window too. “How well do you know her?”

His question surprised me. “Very well. She's
like a sister.”

“And you've known her for a long time?”

“Years. Why do you ask?” I continued to
watch Guy and Keira. It looked like they were taking questions.

“She doesn't act Elite, does she? It's
just... Sometimes people aren't who you think they are, even those
you think you know well.”

“And?” I turned to look him in the eyes. Was
he about to confide, to tell me he was a spy?

“I don't think you should trust her.”

My eyebrows shot up. “She might say the same
about you!”

“Has she said anything about me?”

“Should she have?”

“No. She shouldn't.”

“Well good, because she hasn't,” I lied. I
glanced out the window. The white limo left. The reporters and vid
crews began packing up. I sighed and looked down. “We should get
going, unless you no longer want to.”

I felt his fingers on the back of my hand.
“Aimee, I only want what's best for you. Please, be careful.”

I turned my hand and closed my fingers
gently around his.

 

 

 

-Keira-
Redemption for Orphans

Hisoka Watanabe arrived first. He chose to
go around, instead of through, the crowd of news reporters on the
street below. I would have done the same except they were here for
me.

I was comfortable in the night, in the
shadows, living on the fringe of society, not in the spotlight. How
did Guy do this every day?

Did Hisoka just ask Aimee to pose for him? I
stole a glance over my shoulder and held back a grin. Mr. Quiet and
Uncomfortable is coming out of his shell! Aimee looked pleased.
Best to get out of here and give them some space.

I looked out the window again. Guy was gone.
I prepared for a hasty retreat.

The sea of reporters seemed larger on the
ground level than it had from upstairs.

“Miss James, is this your debut into Tkaron
society?” a reporter from Everyday Elite cried out.

“Well, I don't know about that,” Guy said
smoothly. He casually threw an arm around my shoulders. “She
recently attended the grand opening of Art Fantastique, and she's
already been featured on your show.”

“And what a stunning featured guest you
were, Miss James. Is it true that you...how shall I put this...you
work at an art gallery?”

“Well, I'm not Working Class, if that's what
you're asking.” I felt sick at the sound of my words. However, I
knew it had been the right thing to say when I heard chuckles in
the background. “My roommate is the owner, and I'm volunteering my
time, helping her out when I can.”

“So it's for a good cause?”

I nodded.

“Miss James,” called another reporter. “Is
it true that your roommate, Miss Aimee LaFleur, chose to go to
work? With Elite lineage, surely she had other options?”

I couldn't do this, not to Aimee and not to
the millions of people just like me.

“I have a question for all of you. If it was
a man who owned Art Fantastique, would you still think of him as
Working Class?”

They all stopped and stared. I turned on my
heels and hurried to the waiting limo. Guy opened the door for
me.

“Are you mad?” I asked as soon as we were
alone.

“No, I agree it needed to be said. I'm just
not sure that tonight was the best time.”

“And just when would be the appropriate
time?”

“It's a taboo subject around here so there
probably won't ever be a right time.”

“Exactly!”

“But not when we're so close,” he
whispered.

“Close,” I said, but hesitated when Guy
nodded toward the driver. Even alone in the back of a limo, people
were listening.

“Are you and Adira Armstrong close?” I
whispered.

“The Armstrongs are old family friends.” Guy
spoke carefully.

“So you know her personally,” I pushed.

“Yes, I do.” With a nod of his head, he
again indicated the driver. Clearly, we couldn't discuss Adira
here.

The limo driver joined the queue that led to
the Grand Hotel. When we were directly in front of the main
entrance, we exited and paused for photos. Vid crews linked to a
wide variety of news shows lined up along the main entrance and
recorded the procession of Elite filing into the building.

“Mr. Burke, a comment for the viewers?”

Guy gave a prepared statement about the
importance of supporting children who'd been devastated by the loss
of their parents. He concluded with, “Burke Investments will be
donating a sizable sum to the RFO.”

Then they turned to me. “Miss James, you've
suffered the loss of your parents, albeit as an adult. Is that why
you're here tonight, or is there another reason?” The reporter
looked meaningfully at Guy.

“I'm here to support orphans, especially
those in the orphanages who have no extended family support.” I
looked around. The room had become eerily silent. Guy smiled and
took my hand. I lifted my chin and held my head high as we entered
the ballroom. It was not yet crowded so I found an empty table in
the corner and sat down.

Guy sat next to me and turned his chair so
we faced each other.

“What just happened?” I asked.

“Perhaps a short history lesson?”

I nodded.

“Redemption for Orphans has been around for
a very long time. They do things a certain way. Women on various
committees think of ways to raise money to support Elite
orphans.”

“I know, but that doesn't explain...”

“You don't understand. Most of their focus
is spent on keeping Elite children out of the orphanages.”

That certainly explained their reaction. How
could Guy expect me to associate with these people?

He must have noticed the turmoil in my eyes
because he took my hands in his and commanded my attention. “Let me
do most of the talking tonight. Just listen and follow my lead.
And, about that other thing, we'll talk more later.”

“Talk about what?” A shadow fell upon us.
Adira smiled at me but spoke to Guy. “Richard, why don't you
introduce me to your friend?”

I narrowed my eyes, then stood and walked
away. Aimee found me studying the auction items a few minutes
later.

I looked around. “Where's Hisoka?”

She nodded in the direction of the buffet
table. “Getting me a drink. Why are you over here alone? Where's
Guy?”

“He's talking to that bitch we met earlier
today so I gave them some space.”

“No.”

“What?”

“She's dragging him onto the dance floor.
Are women allowed to cut in? I'll be happy to steal him back for
you.”

“It's probably not appropriate.” I stressed
the word “appropriate” and then sighed. “I'll wait for him to make
the next move. So, how are you and Hisoka getting along?”

“Fine, only...” She looked in his
direction.

“Only what?”

“He told me not to trust you, but I'm not
sure I can trust him. He's so proper about everything. What if I
told him something about my past that he found, oh, I don't know,
uncomfortable?”

“And you don't want to put him in that
position.”

“Right.”

“Aimee, you are simply too nice.”

Hisoka had returned. “Too nice? She must be
talking about you.” He handed Aimee a glass of wine.

“Why is my son dancing with her?” I'd
completely let down my guard. Now Beatrice stood next to us,
watching the dancers. I was a little taken aback by the emotion in
her voice.

“He said they were old friends. You don't
approve?”

“Old friends. Is that what he told you?”
Icicles could have formed on her words. “He's here with you, isn't
he?” She turned to look at me. “Miss James, my son isn't exactly
known for settling down, but it's about time that he did.” She
watched my expression carefully. “I see that doesn't surprise you,
yet still, here you are. So, are you going to do something about
it?” She nodded toward Guy and Adira.

“What do you suggest? It would be improper
for me to cut in.”

“Improper? Isn't he worth fighting for?” She
studied me and seemed to come to a decision. “Sometimes new blood
is exactly what an organization needs.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

At the same time Hisoka said, “I'll do it,”
and strode onto the dance floor. It was the proper and honorable
thing to do. Guy was left standing alone as dancers twirled around
him. He caught my eye and made his way across the room.

“Keep him close,” Beatrice whispered in my
ear.

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