Unwanted Stars (28 page)

My dearest Auden

I spoke to Tabitha. Please give me a chance to explain before you make any rash decisions regarding our family. I know you are on tour until the end of the month but please come for tea when you return to London. There is so much to discuss. And it is long overdue.

All my love

Nan

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

All her love? Fuck that.

The mastermind behind my entire existence feels that a discussion is "long overdue." What an arrogant, self-righteous asshole my nan is! I'll say it's overdue! She encouraged my mother to give me away. She encouraged her own daughter to lie to me for twenty three years. Who does this shit? Who keeps secrets like this without having it overtake them completely?

Riding on the bus to Paris, I found myself drifting off, reading the email over and over again on my phone, pondering every experience I ever had with my nan. How much of it had been real? How much of it was based on guilt for what she'd done? The decisions she'd made and those she encouraged?

Before I left London, I threw away every last bit of my Clinique makeup. I needed to erase all the influence of Nan and Tabitha. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw them. I saw Tabitha in my lipstick, Nan in my eye shadow, Tabitha in my bronzer, Nan in my mascara. It was too much.

I'd switched completely to Mac which had cost me a fortune and didn't suit me quite yet. The colors were harsh, the makeup more dramatic (yes, I used that godforsaken word) than I was used to. Clinique had made me look natural, feel natural. I felt like me. But now I didn't even know who that was. I was a mess. And it was affecting my work.

Yesterday, Michelle called me, and it was not for a good reason. I'd snapped at two of the tour members when they asked me a ridiculous amount of questions in Switzerland. I was exhausted, I was mentally somewhere else, and I lost it, using a very unprofessional amount of sarcasm in my response. One of them had cried. The other glared at me before walking away. And I felt nothing. I was numb. I didn't care that I'd hurt them. I didn't care that I had behaved in an unprofessional manner.

But I was doing my best to care now, and I was even more pissed at Tabitha and Nan for affecting me this way. They were messing with my personal life, but they were also starting to affect my job. No freaking way.

Thank God I'd be seeing Campbell tomorrow. His plane was arriving first thing in the morning. It'd been over two weeks since I'd seen him, been enveloped in his strong arms, listened to him hum my song as I fell asleep. Being away from him, especially while going through all of this confusion, was unbearable. Part of me wanted to quit.

But I wasn’t a quitter.

They say, “This too shall pass.” And it had become my mantra for the past couple of weeks as I pondered my twenty-three years of life and wondered what the next twenty-three would bring. Forgiveness seemed impossible, but I also knew living in this agony wouldn't suit either. Just like everyone else, I wanted harmony, I wanted happiness. And harboring hatred was not the best method for achieving said happiness.

I decided to finally answer my nan.

Gemma,

Yes, there is much to discuss. But as far as being overdue? That has nothing to do with me. I can’t promise that I’ll come for tea, but I’ll think about it when I return to London.

- Auden

It felt good to break my silence and respond, but part of me felt like even sending that message was breaking down my resolve. It's hard to hate the ones you love and have always loved. As difficult a personality as Nan has always been—a little snooty, uppity and all that other high-society crap, I loved her. I truly did. I admired her and loved her as any granddaughter would. It was all so confusing.

And don't even get me started on my parents. I wasn't returning their phone calls. But to some degree, that was my M.O. Since taking this job, I hadn't called home nearly enough, so I doubted they suspected anything. And I was not about to call them to confront all of this. It was way too much to do over the phone.

Jason and Hadley's wedding was approaching next month. It'd have to happen then. Campbell had insisted on joining me, which I was secretly thrilled about. Time off had been requested, plane tickets purchased. And aside from the wedding activities, I'd have three days after Jason and Hadley left for their honeymoon to confront my parents. I didn't want to ruin the big day with any drama. Hadley deserved better than that. So did Jason, for that matter.

When we arrived in Paris, I did my best to sound enthusiastic when talking about the City of Lights as our bus cruised through streets. But enthusiasm--genuine enthusiasm and excitement—is impossible to fake. Part of me felt terrible for not giving these tour members the very best I had to offer, but I wasn't there with them. As hard as I tried, I just wasn't there.

After a quick trip to the Eiffel Tower, we arrived at the hotel and I was able to have some time to myself. All I wanted to do was have a cup of tea in my room, put my feet up, and fall asleep. Campbell would be with me in less than twelve hours and it was the only thing keeping me afloat.

When I walked into the hotel, I had to process what I saw before me. Campbell was standing in the middle of the lobby, wearing a basic black suit and limo driver cap. He was holding a sign that said AUDEN KELLY and a bouquet of gerbera daisies.

I stifled a laugh as I approached him.

"What on earth?"

A bellhop from the hotel took my bags from me and placed them on a cart.

"Merci?" I said, and it came out as a question. I was used to bringing my own bags to my room. This was very out of the ordinary. My tour members stopped to stare, some of them whispering about a ring, a surprise proposal, but I knew that wasn't the case. Campbell knew how fragile I was, plus it'd been only four months. For god's sake, people, get a grip.

"Are you ready, Miss Kelly?" Campbell asked, placing the bouquet of flowers in my grasp.

If anyone could make the numbness lessen, it was this man. What an incredible realization. Seeing him standing there, it was the first time I'd felt anything other than irritation or annoyance in the past two weeks. And for the first time I felt actual hope. That things might be okay as long as he was in my life.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around me for clues. He tipped his hat.

"The car's ready and waiting outside."

"The car? You rented a car?"

"You'll see," he said, offering his arm to me. I linked arms with him, the tiniest of smiles making an appearance on my sullen face.

Outside the hotel, there was an actual limo driver standing in front of a limousine. His hat was missing. Luckily, I knew exactly where it was.

"Merci, monsieur," Campbell said, passing the hat to the driver with a small bow of deference.

"Merci," the driver said with a smile before holding the door open for us.

When we sat inside the cool limousine, Campbell wrapped his arms around me. I pulled him close to me, feeling the warmth emanate from his skin.

"I can't believe you," I said in amazement.

"What?"

"I thought you were coming tomorrow."

"That's what I wanted you to think."

"I see."

"I thought you could use a little surprise."

"You were right. You know me so well," I said, snuggling into his chest as the driver turned into traffic. "So, where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said, sounding smug.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Nope. I'm the tour guide tonight."

"Wow, okay."

Minutes later, we pulled up to the Eiffel Tower. I didn't have the heart to tell Campbell I'd already been there that day. He was way too excited. He took my hand and led me from the car.

We walked, hand in hand, to the Eiffel Tower.

"My goal for this weekend is to make you smile. As much as possible."

"That's it?"

"That's it. I'm going to do my best."

"You've already done it," I said with the best smile I could muster.

"No need to fake them. When you smile, I want them to be real and genuine. I want to know I was able to place a smile on this beautiful face, even if for only a couple of days."

"Okay. No fake smiles. I promise."

"Want to go up?" he asked as we walked through the feet of the pillars past the ticket office.

"Of course. Don't we need tickets?"

"Trust your tour guide," he said, looking stern.

"Sorry, I won't say another word."

"Good."

"Let's take the lift," I said when I saw Campbell walking toward the steps under the awning for the Jules Verne restaurant.

"Maybe later. Come with me."

"You didn't," I said, tilting my head to him in disbelief. We were having dinner inside the tower at the incredibly fancy restaurant with gorgeous panoramic views. I'd never eaten there, even though I'd visited the tower several times with my tour groups. This wasn't something I'd do with them.

"I did," he grinned. "Come. We have reservations."

We climbed into the private elevator which delivered us to the spectacular restaurant. I'd never seen anything like it.

"You can see the entire city," I said in awe.

"I know."

"Bonsoir," the mâitre d’ said.

"Bonsoir, monsieur, fête de deux. Hutchins."

"Oui," the mâitre d’ said, marking us off his list. With menus in hand, he escorted us to a table with a fresh pressed white linen tablecloth. It was right next to the window, and the view was utterly spectacular. I could see buildings for miles as lights shined throughout the city, and I was mesmerized.

"You speak French, too?"

"A little here and there. When I visited the Ivory Coast, I had to learn as much as I could."

"Doctors Without Borders?" I asked.

"Yes. Great experience."

"I love that you like to travel just as much as me. I'd love to go to Africa too someday."

"Maybe you can come with me next time," he suggested, his words hopeful.

"Maybe," I said with a flirtatious smile, leaning my chin into my hand.

"There's one," he said, looking awfully impressed with himself. Was I being scolded? That's how Maya gave my niece warnings. I could hear her in my head. "Riley, that's one."

"Uh oh, am I in trouble?"

"No, I got you to smile. That's one. I'm already on a roll."

"I can't help it. Being around you makes me happy."

"Don't ever apologize for that," he said, taking my hands in his and kissing each of them gently.

"I won't," I said, turning serious. "This is really incredible. Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this."

"I know you did. And I needed to do this for you. I've felt so helpless lately. Especially being back in London."

"I know. The separation is getting harder, isn't it?"

"Yes, but we'll be fine."

"I know we will," I said, overcome again with the realization that he was absolutely right. We'd be just fine.

"That's two," he said with a boyish grin.

"You're really proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Of course." He nodded, looking down at his menu before reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve his reading glasses. I loved him in those glasses. So smart and sexy. It was a heavenly combination.

"Ugh, it's all in French," I said.

"I'll translate for you," he said peering down. "We can do the prix fixe menu. They'll bring three courses that complement each another."

"Perfect. Then I don't even have to order."

"Exactly," he said with a smile. "Would you prefer venison or chicken?"

"I'm not eating Bambi," I said, scrunching my nose up in disgust.

"Chicken it is.”

When our waiter greeted us, Campbell ordered a bottle of champagne and our dinner choices as I stared out the window at the Arc de Triomphe.

"This view is spectacular. I can't stop staring."

A steaming basket of bread was placed in front of me, with butter almost too beautiful to eat. But eat it we did, and it was magnificent.

"This tastes better than any butter I've ever had. What on earth did they do to it?" I asked, enjoying every morsel.

"I don't know, but it's fantastic."

The foie gras appetizer was delivered and I wasn't so sure about it, but I wanted to be brave. I tried it and quickly washed it down with a huge gulp of water. Campbell chuckled to himself as he enjoyed the dish despite my theatrics. Our soup was delivered next. Pea soup with crab. Didn’t sound that great, but it was incredible. I sipped it slowly from my spoon, savoring the mixture of flavors joining together on my taste buds.

Our final dish was the chicken, which was delectable. Velvety and rich, it was one of the most delicious things I had tasted since arriving in Europe months ago. Too full to finish, I placed my fork on the table and watched Campbell enjoy the rest of his meal.