Forever Starts Tomorrow (4 page)

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Melanie regretted her decision from the moment she entered the large, overly decorated room. The amount of flowers was probably enough for three other banquets, she thought, as she glanced at the opulent garlands of roses mixed with carnations and palm leaves. And that was just the beginning. The round tables, glittering with silverware on white silk tablecloths, were about as inviting as a dentist’s chair. The stage held a few pots of exotic-looking plants, their vibrant colors taking on an almost surreal air in the light of the sparkling chandeliers. The huge screen behind them displayed ever-changing images from the projects sponsored by the firm—people, forests, and animals—which were going mostly unnoticed. The room was already pretty full; the murmur of voices was mellowed by the classical music played by a quintet sitting discreetly in one of the corners. Groups of elegantly dressed people chatted animatedly, jewels glittering at the throats and hands of women, and Melanie was aware that she was not in their league. A few heads turned her way as she made her way toward the sitting area, not all of them with friendly expressions. They probably didn’t approve of her simple red dress, she thought with self-deprecating humor. The sheath dress and matching pumps were light-years away from the outfits here. It probably didn’t help that she let her hair fall loose down her shoulders, and a smudge of mascara and blush were her only concession to dressing up for the event.
Well, too bad
, she thought rebelliously, lifting her chin higher as she glanced around, hoping to see Sam. Her friend had left her on her own, some last-minute emergency claiming her time.
Not a big deal, really. I can manage fine on my own,
she repeated silently to herself, examining the tables, which held place cards with names. A polite waiter led her to her chair, his meaningless comments about the weather tempting her to smile. She’d just go and sit at the table full of strangers and wait for Sam to join her. Piece of cake. She didn’t know anyone but Sam and Brad, so she’d sit and enjoy the entertainment while waiting, maybe say hello to a person or two, if it couldn’t be avoided. Wasn’t that why she was there—to chat and be entertaining and convince people to support Brad’s company?

Melanie's table was right up at front, set for eight people, with a vase of red roses that looked almost too perfect to be real. She found her name staring at her in fancy cursive, golden letters on thick, cream-colored paper. Fortunately, the table was empty. She ordered a glass of mineral water, more for the sake of the waiter than anything else. It appeared at her seat almost instantly, the crystal goblet fizzing quietly like a dangerous animal that needed to be tamed.

She glanced around, trying to be inconspicuous. Damn it, Sam was nowhere to be seen. People were sitting down, mostly in groups, or at least pairs. By now, Melanie was hoping for anyone at all to join her table, the thought of sitting here all alone in full sight of the bunch of strangers starting to get to her. She had learned to control her shyness early on, growing a tough skin—a necessity in the house she grew up in. Still, being there on her own felt weird, especially since she was serving as a last-minute replacement for a woman who probably knew half of the room and would mingle and chat instead of sitting like a silent doll. So far Melanie had done nothing to earn the meal she was about to enjoy.

She caught a glimpse of Sam, looking all flustered. She was having an animated conversation with Brad in the doorway. In his pale-grey suit and crisp shirt, he looked surprisingly elegant, even though he seemed very nervous. She was hoping that things were OK. As much as she hadn’t wanted to come to the banquet, she wished both her friends the best.

She was so preoccupied that she didn’t even notice the man who approached the table until his tall frame blocked out the view. Later on, Melanie would try to recall what happened in the one brief second when she looked up into his face for the first time. Suddenly everything stopped, the noise of the room fading into the background. It lasted just a heartbeat, no longer. And yet, it felt like her world stopped spinning and configured itself into a new, alien order.  The center of her universe refocused and left her bewildered with the unexpected change. She blinked, and everything got back to normal, as if it had never happened. But it had, and every cell of her body was aware of something her brain couldn’t quite comprehend.

‘Hi, can I join you?’ The stranger smiled, the somber beauty of his elegant features broken up by a promise of warmth. ‘It appears that we are going to be table neighbors for tonight.’

She nodded, the movement a far cry from the suave image she was hoping to project. If anyone had told Melanie that a guy could literally take her breath away, she’d have laughed out loud—until that very moment.

‘Sure, save me from being alone here.’

He surveyed the cards, his smile widening.

‘I knew it!’ he said, gesturing toward her name card. He shook his head and she noted the raven blackness of his hair—hair that needed a cut, she thought, studying the strands, which grazed the collar of his mandarin-style shirt. Its pure whiteness contrasted beautifully with the olive tint of the strong column of his neck, giving him a slightly wild and unkempt air that was at odds with the other men in the room. Not that he seemed concerned at all, she mused, as he sat down and stretched his long legs with a sigh of pleasure.

‘You’re not Betsy.’ He was watching her carefully, the intensity of his dark eyes making her feel as if she were sixteen again, awkward and tongue-tied. ‘Last minute change of plans?’

‘Something like that.’ She smiled cautiously, not sure if she really planned on sharing more with a total stranger. Sam had warned her that there would be reporters around, trying to snap a few pictures and get a few lines’ worth of information about the event. That guy could very well be one of them.

He must have sensed her reluctance. ‘Sorry, I’m being very rude, interviewing you like that.’ A long-fingered, elegant palm stretched her way as he explained, looking chagrined. ‘I should have introduced myself first, of course. I’m Scott. Scott Masden.’

She shook his hand, trying hard not to look too surprised. So that was the famous Scott whom Sam disliked so much? As they exchanged polite, meaningless introductions, she watched him more carefully, her curiosity awakened. He looked… nice. A bit young maybe—he was probably not much over thirty. Given his stellar business reputation, she had expected some middle-aged man with a thinning hairline and a Valentino suit. Instead, across from her sat a tall, hunky guy who looked like a cross between a surfer and an independent-movie director.

‘Melanie.’ He said her name, the syllables rolling smoothly off his tongue. He had a beautiful voice, she thought, soft and beguiling—a voice one could listen to for hours. ‘I’ve never thought I’d be happy to hear about someone getting sick. But as they say, there’s a first time for everything, right?’ Something flickered in the depth of his eyes, and she felt her throat dry in involuntary response.

‘Tell it to Betsy,’ she managed, absurdly pleased with his comment—which was totally out of character for her.

‘I might, next time we talk.’ He waved a hand, and the waiter appeared, as if magically charmed by his sheer wish. He ordered water, taking his time to pick the right bottle. The waiter didn’t seem to mind, visibly impressed and eager to please. He returned almost instantly, Scott’s order handled as swiftly as if he were the only person in the crowded room.

‘So, how did you end up here?’ Scott sipped his water slowly and leisurely. Droplets of moisture clung to his lips, and suddenly Melanie imagined licking it off. She could almost feel the texture of his mouth under her tongue, the firm line of his lips softened by his smile. He’d taste cool and fresh, she thought. Then she snapped out of her trance. She blinked, embarrassed, and reached for her own drink, unable to look into his face. The sparkling water tickled the roof of her mouth, and she savored the slightly salty taste.

‘Helping out a friend.’ She finally found the courage to glance at him and was relieved that he didn’t seem to notice the way her mind was wandering off in his presence.

‘I mean, Betsy got sick, and my friends who are organizing this evening asked me to step in,’ she continued, glad to have something neutral to talk about. Just keep chatting, an inner voice advised her, until the rest of your table arrives and the speeches start. That way, there would be no time to stare at him with what bordered on a schoolgirl crash. Maybe he was used to it anyway. ‘I’ve been working in a similar field, and they needed someone to fill in the empty spot. To keep the conversation going, if needed.’

It was the truth. She probably shouldn’t have told him what had brought her here, him being one of the people she was supposed to entertain and mollify. She didn’t care. For reasons unknown, she wanted him to know the truth.

If she’d thought he’d find her revelation annoying, she was in for a disappointment. His grin deepened, and he looked even younger. ‘Awesome.’ Suddenly, he was leaning closer, his expression conspiratorial. ‘Can I be honest, too?’

Do I have a say?
She thought, amused.

He continued. The question, apparently, was rhetorical. ‘I was watching you from across the room, Melanie.’

OK, she should have found him annoying. In those short minutes that he was at the table, he’d managed to dominate it totally, the rest of the room fading into the background. The voices, the lights, the music—all of it slipped quietly away, leaving her in some kind of ridiculous limbo, her only connection to reality that tall, dark-eyed man with the smile of a fallen angel.

‘You did?’ Melanie cursed her own awkward tongue. What happened to being sophisticated and playing it cool?

‘I was just thinking how much I was regretting coming here.’ Scott didn’t seem to mind her awkwardness at all. ‘And then I looked over here, and saw you…’

‘You make it sound as if we were in some kind of a movie.’ She opted for laughter, her shaky voice making her cringe in embarrassment. There was intensity in his gaze that seemed to burn straight into her soul, too impatient and potent to be denied.

‘It’s better than a movie.’ He moved closer, fluid and swift, and she didn’t even see it until he was sitting close enough for their knees to almost touch. He was very real. His thighs were strong and muscular under thin, elegant fabric. They were real and warm, every inch gloriously alive. Melanie had to fight the urge to lean over and touch him, her fingers itching to trace the elegant planes of his face. She reached for her water, desperate to break the totally inappropriate reaction to a man who’d been a stranger only minutes ago. A man Sam had called a ‘heartless workaholic’ who cared about nothing but his work and money.

‘Movies are fake, Melanie.’ Scott’s voice interrupted her attempt to regain her sanity. She noticed and reveled in the details of his face from close up: the way his straight eyebrows rose ever so slightly as he spoke, his obsidian eyes framed by eyelashes that were definitely longer than those of any other man she had ever seen before. His mouth, firm and mobile, curved gently in a half smile as he spoke, and Melanie’s lips stretched in an immediate response, even before she realized what she was doing.

‘We are real.’ He gestured around the room, his long-fingered palm slicing the air with effortless elegance. ‘I was watching you sit here all by yourself, so delicate and yet so strong. You looked ready to take on the whole world, if needed. And I thought I wanted to talk to you, before someone else does. I can’t explain that to you now, but I knew right then and there that we were meant to meet. Call it karma, if you will.’

Nobody had ever talked to her like that. Ever. Not her ex-boyfriend Eric and not any of the other guys who’d wanted to date her. It wouldn’t have done them any good, anyway. She’d have laughed at their thickly laid compliments and moved on. Why couldn’t she do the same with Scott? She should politely give him the cold shoulder, of course. He was a stranger, for God’s sake! A handsome, convincing, and totally captivating man, but a stranger, and to make things worse, a man who didn’t care if he was out of line.

‘Look, I am very glad that you found me entertaining.’ She was determined to get the conversation on the right track. Which meant, no more revelations of any kind. ‘But for now, we need to focus on the speeches. They are just about to start.’ Melanie glanced around, realizing that their table was still empty, just the two of them occupying the space. Where was everyone?

As if responding to her call, the waiter appeared again, his expression flustered as he collected the place cards and left, the two remaining cards with their names the only ones on the table. She stared at the tablecloth, not quite sure what had just happened.

‘Looks like it’s going to be just the two of us.’ Scott’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up. He’s looking very pleased with himself, was her first thought, followed by a premonition that soon solidified into certainty. The small smile playing around his lips, which he tried unsuccessfully to suppress, gave him away. No words needed.

‘You asked them to move people around!’ She wasn’t sure if she should get angry or flattered. Anger won. She wasn’t the type of a woman who got swept off her feet by such macho techniques—not after having to live with her stepfather, who had been a controlling and overpowering man, who required her to seek his approval for every step she took.

‘Why would you do that?’ she demanded heatedly, ignoring the fact that the room was quieting down, the music replaced by a murmur of voices as people settled down in their spots. ‘Do you know how idiotic it’s going to look?’

‘Not really.’ He had the nerve to smile, his white teeth dazzling in his tanned face. She wasn’t going to dwell on the fact that his skin had a warm, Mediterranean glow that made her think of azure skies and white rocks jutting out of emerald seas.

‘I just thought that, instead of talking to a bunch of strangers we don’t even want to meet, we could use this opportunity to get to know each other a bit better.’ His eyes flashed with some emotion she couldn’t quite read. Nor did she try to. He was manipulating her, was all she could think, disappointment replacing her earlier euphoria. He might well be the most attractive and engaging man she had met, but if he thought he could control her and the situation, he was wrong.