Surrender to Me

Surrender

To
Me

Monica James

Surrender to
Me

Published by
THE EDGE Books

THE EDGE is an
imprint of Sparklesoup Inc.

Copyright ©
2013 Monica James

All Rights
Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
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First Edition.

Printed in the
United States of America.

“Today you
are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
Dr. Seuss

Mum and dad, thank you for being You

Chapter 1

Round Trip

“
L
adies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned
off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin.

In a few
moments, the flight attendants will be passing around the cabin to offer you
hot or cold drinks. Alcoholic drinks are also available.  We will also be
screening our in-flight movie in a few moments. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy
the flight. Thank you.”

So, here I
sit, staring at my reflection once again. I am still the girl with eyes too big
for her melancholy face. And, my frame is still so small my feet barely reach
the sticky floor. I still laugh at everyone’s jokes, even though I don’t see
the point of laughing at mindless nothingness. But this girl is not the same
person she was, when she made her maiden journey back home eighteen months ago.
I thought I would return a better, stronger woman, but sadly that notion is
still up for debate.

My
eyes look like they have seen a million tragedies, and sometimes I feel my life
has been one huge calamity. Time really does change a person; I know it has
changed me. But has that change been for better or worse? 

Speaking
of which.

If
anyone was to tell me six months ago, when I left Los Angeles for Singapore on
a scholarship to The Culinary Institute of America, that my best friend of
eleven years would be getting married to her boyfriend Lucas, I would have
said, ‘Get the fuck outta town!’ But here I am, sitting on a plane, headed back
to Los Angeles to help celebrate the union of two wonderful people.

Veronica
Donovan has been my best friend since I was twelve years old. We met under
miserable circumstances when her parents died in a car accident, leaving their
only child in the care of her Aunt Mary, who just happened to be our next door
neighbor. Our love for the same things warranted us being BFF. And still to
this day, we are just as close.

So,
when my BFF told me she was getting married, and I was to be Maid of Honor, I
did what any BFF would, I jumped on the first available flight to help her plan
The Big Day.

I
can’t help but wonder, if Veronica wasn’t getting married, would I have come
back to Los Angeles? Life in Singapore was hard when I first arrived, as it was
difficult going back to a place that held so many bad memories, but that’s why
I returned. Those bad memories were obstructing my future, my future with a
certain cerulean eyed boy named Jasper White. I wanted so desperately for those
bad memories to fade, and I thought they would, but life never turns out how
you plan. Once you reach a crossroad in your life, the path you choose sends
you on a spiral of the unknown. And I was happy to uncover that unknown, as
long as I knew the end result would lead me to Jasper. But, life has a funny
way of throwing you on your ass when you least expect it. I never thought I was
running away from Jasper, I thought I was running towards a future with him.

I
thought wrong.

My
face appears the same, maybe another year older. But that could be because I
have on a little more makeup than I am used to wearing. Kohl lines my upper
eyelids, highlighted with a hint of gold shimmer, and a light coral lip gloss
shines on my full lips. My freckles are hidden under a heavy dusting of
foundation and bronzer, giving my skin an unnatural golden tinge.

To
match my painted face, I am wearing a white stylish chemise and slim black
pants with heeled boots. Inside I am secretly missing my Converse, but they
would look silly with an outfit such as this.

I
guess I do look different from the girl that left.

But the
biggest change is not how I look, or what I’m wearing. No, the biggest change
is the reflection staring back at me, and that reflection is not mine. It’s of
my travelling companion, who is accompanying me in business class for V’s
wedding. With his slicked back sandy hair, and impeccable attire, he has the
attention of every female aboard this plane, but this is old news.

Running
my left hand over my face, I am startled when the BIG diamond, positioned on my
wedding ring finger catches the light. I doubt I will ever feel quite
comfortable with the size of this diamond. And I know a good number of girls
would kill to obtain such a jewel, but seriously, if this plane goes down, I
wouldn’t be surprised if this ring adds to the plummet with the weight of it.

Those
blue eyes assess me, and I know he can’t read me like he once could. As I said
before, I am a changed person. Whether that change is for the better, is still
up for discussion.

Staring
at the reflection of those eyes watching me closely, I realize they haven’t
changed since the first time I saw them.

And
those blue eyes belong to the man I am going to marry.

That
man being Harper Holden.

*****

"Ladies
and gentlemen, we have started our descent in preparation for landing. Please
make sure your tray tables are up, and your seats are in their full upright
position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened, and all carry-on
luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you, or in the overhead bins.
Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate.
The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to pick up any
remaining cups and glasses."

As
I am jolted awake, my eyes take in the smoggy Los Angeles skyline-I’m home.

Looking
over at Harper, I am amazed at how immaculate he looks. His manicured fingers
are picking some fluff off his Armani suit jacket, and not a hair is out of
place. This man does not look like he has just flown halfway across the world.
I on the other hand, probably look a mess.

“Everything
okay babe?” he asks.

And
that’s the million dollar question.

The
irony of life never ceases to amaze me. Flying back into LAX shouldn’t cause
such feelings of despair, but sadly it does. I really thought the next time I
returned to LA, it would be because I was coming home to stay, coming home to
Jasper.

But
again I was mistaken.

“I’m
fine,” I reply, wearing my bravest smile.

It
saddens me to admit that being back here causes feelings of despair, as this
city used to bring me such comfort. I mean I was running back here, only
eighteen months ago, to escape Singapore and Harper, and now, how the tables
have turned.

“Are
you sure? You look a little unwell,” Harper asks, taking in my pallor.

“I’m
just tired. It was a long flight, and I know V is going to make me her personal
wedding slave,” I joke, attempting to steer him off the topic of my obvious
anxiety.

Harper
reaches over to stoke my face with the back of his fingers. “It’ll be good
practice for our big day. This way you can do your homework as well as help
Veronica. It’s a win-win situation,” he says while giving me a genuine smile.

But
I squirm, as Harper and I are yet to set a date, and he keeps pushing for a
time within the next six months. I on the other hand, am just getting used to
the idea of becoming Mrs. Ava Holden, and have every excuse in the book to why
I am putting off penciling in a date. Whether its work, or school, or exams- I
can’t commit because I don’t know what my schedule will be like in six months’
time. I ignore the niggling feeling that these are just excuses, as there is
only one reason why.

Being
in business class has its perks, like being permitted off the plane first. It
is a nice change from being squished in coach, but the stuffiness of all the
wealthy passengers is trying. Harper, being one of the bigwigs of a globally
successful company, will not travel in anything but business class. I think
this is a little pretentious of him, but he says he’s worked hard to get where
he is. So if flying business class floats his boat, then so be it.

That
was the reason why Harper and I moved to Singapore in the first place. It was
Harper’s dream to move up the corporate ladder and one day rule his own empire,
and he is not far off from accomplishing his dreams. I am proud of his
accomplishments, as I know how hard he has worked, but I still think all this
business class and coach discrimination is unfair. Just because you gross
millions of dollars, doesn’t make you a better person than someone with a
modest income. I am humbled that way. In my profession everyone is equal, and
we all have to eat. I cook and create for everyone regardless of their race,
gender or pay packet, and hope they like my food enough to come back for more.

After
going through customs quickly, (another perk of business class) we arrive into
the noisy, chaotic LAX. Harper has organized a driver to take us to the very
snobbish Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles, which will be our home for the next
two weeks. I hear the likes of Madonna and George Clooney have stayed here. And
here I am, staying in the same hotel as these famous celebrities.

How
completely unnecessary.

Harper
takes a hold of my sweaty palm, and I tell myself they are only sweating
because of the stifling weather, not for another reason. Excusing myself
quickly, explaining I need to go outside to make a quick phone call to my mom,
I leave Harper to search for our driver.

As
soon as I exit the doors, the heat punches me in the face. Wow, it is hot. I
wish I had dressed in something more casual, but I find myself feeling guilty
for not wearing the beautiful outfits Harper has bought for me.

I
dial and place the phone to my ear, however before it connects, I subtly
terminate the call, and after twenty seconds, I let out a forced laugh. This is
all a charade, because I am not talking to anyone. Waving at Harper through the
glass as he is looking at me intently, he gives me a quick half smile, and I
turn my back on him, because Harper has eyes like a hawk. This is all
make-believe, because I am not out here to make a call. I hastily do what I
intended to by coming out here, and then head back inside. 

Harper
is still trying to spot our driver, which I presume will be holding up a
little, ‘Mr. Harper Holden’ sign, just like they do in the movies. It really is
uncalled for, as I would have been happy catching a cab. But the sight of
turning up to The Four Seasons in a cab is unheard of. Whatever-these exclusive
people and their rules are a foreign concept to me, so I am just along for the
ride.

I
notice some rich snob checking Harper out, and it doesn’t bother me as much as
it should, as Harper is handsome and never lacking female suitors. With his 6’3
frame towering over my 5’1, I look even shorter in his company. His thick, but
styled eyebrows complement his deep blue eyes, which sometimes appear grey if
reflected in a certain light. He has a strong jaw line which is always clean
shaven, and there is a slight cleft in his chin, giving him an almost
overconfident look. His sandy hair is always styled and slicked back, giving
him a very corporate look, even on the weekends. I guess that is because he is
always dressed in a suit and tie. Sometimes he loses the tie, but he is always
dressed to impress. I on the other hand prefer my well-loved jeans and
Converse, Harper however, does not, hence my outfit.

“Ava!”
I hear faintly, shaking me out of my thoughts.

Looking
around and seeing no one I recognize, I brush it off as just being the ghosts
of this airport. I recall promising myself that airports have caused me nothing
but pain and sadness, and I was to change that the next time I was here. So
far, I have failed miserably sticking to that affirmation. Although, this does
count as a happy time, I’ll be seeing V soon.

“Ava!”
I hear it again.

I
look around again and before I have time to speak, I am hit with a torpedo of
all things, Veronica Donovan. Well I guess I will see her sooner than expected.

She
is holding me in a death grip, and I hug her back just as tightly, as I love
this girl with all my heart.

She
lets me go, and there are tears running down her heart shaped face and over her
trembling lips. Her long chestnut hair is now black, and she has taken her lip
ring out, but apart from that, she looks exactly the same as when I saw her
last, which was the day I left. We promised to visit, but life, it got a hold
of me and didn’t let go.

I
am now also crying, as I didn’t realize how much I missed her, and her friendship.
She has the ability to make me laugh regardless of my mood, and that’s quite an
achievement when I get grouchy. Hence the name of my cat Oscar, who has been in
her care while I’ve been away. I don’t want to think about how I came about
owning Oscar. Too many tender emotions I can’t deal with.

“Oh
Ava, oh my God I have missed you!” beams V, holding me out at arm’s length to
look at me.

Taking
in my clothes, she whistles. “You look like my friend, but who are you?”

I
don’t want to read too much into that comment because sometimes, I wonder that
myself.

Avoiding
the topic of my attire, I chuckle lightly while asking, “What are you doing
here? Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” I quickly add.

Deep
down I knew my friend would be here. We both know one another too well, which
are the benefits of being best friends for as long as we have.

“Coming
to pick up my best friend of course!” she answers, wiping away her tears with
the back of her hand.

“You didn’t
have to do that,” says a slightly annoyed Harper who has sauntered over to us.

Oh
shit, here we go.

“I
know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. It’s the least I can do for my Maid of
Honor.”

It
hasn’t even been two minutes and they are already at it.