The Pull of Destiny (34 page)

Popping her thumb out of
her mouth, Faith looked at me, her head to one side, and shrugged. “You look
clean.”

I couldn’t help laughing as
I resumed combing my hair. “Clean?” I repeated. “Are you trying to say that I
usually look dirty?”

Because if she was, then
we had a problem on our hands. Five year olds never lied, did they?

Looking a little confused,
Faith shook her head, her curly hair flying out behind her.

“No. I don’t think so. But
you look different,” she elaborated. “You look nice.”

Caught off guard, I
grinned at her in the mirror and was rewarded by a grin back. Always nice to
receive a compliment.

“Thanks, Faith.”

Unfortunately, Faith
wasn’t done. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she added, “Are you trying to
impress Celsi?”

God, why did this topic
keep coming up? Bad enough that I was about to embark on my first real date in
months, now I had to deal with this?

I twisted around to look
at Faith, who still had that inscrutably serious look on her face. The kid was
way too intense for a five year old. “What makes you think that?” I asked her.

“I don’t know. Are you?”

I shook my head before she
even finished asking the question. “Of course not, silly! The only person I’m
trying to impress is you.”

Faith rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry. You look nice. She’ll like you,” she told me reassuringly, as if
she was my therapist or something. “Mom’s calling you, by the way.”

And with that cryptic
answer, Faith let herself out of the bathroom as I gave my hair a final comb,
feeling baffled. Idly, I found myself wondering whether CiCi would even notice
that my hair was combed or that I was wearing aftershave and I almost slapped
myself.

Faith was right. In some
weird, unconscious way, I
was
trying to impress CiCi, and I had no clue
why. Maybe I was anticipating the night ahead of me a bit too much, but could
you blame me? CiCi was pretty, funny, smart and- real. Being around someone who
knew who I was, what I had done in the past and where I came from but didn’t
care was refreshing to me.

Plus, her hair smelt like
strawberries. And I had a weakness for strawberries, so that made her the
perfect date.

“Time to leave!”

Dad’s bellow echoed around
the penthouse more effectively than using the intercom. I checked my watch. It
was only 6.30. The gala didn’t start for another hour, so why was dad storming
around already, saying we needed to leave? What happened to being fashionably
late?

After slipping on my
sneakers (dress shoes? Just shoot me) I danced out of my room and almost
slammed into Hope in the hallway as she shrugged on her Chanel jacket.

“Luke, where’s your
jacket? And your tie? We’re about to leave,” she said, looking harassed.

“Why?” I asked, following
her to the living room where Faith was sitting demurely on a couch, her little
handbag placed on her lap. “The gala starts at 7.30. I know you guys want to be
early, but getting there an hour before everyone else is a bit much, don’t you
think?”

Now, I was just joking
with her, but dad, who happened to be eavesdropping right behind me, never did
know how to take jokes.

“We leave when I say so,
and I say we leave now,” he growled near my ear, obviously not realising that
he had enough skills to write a mediocre rap song.

Arguing with dad was
always pointless, but that didn’t stop me from trying. I just wanted to know
what was going on. Nobody told me anything in this house anymore.

“Okay, I understand that
much,” I started, turning to face dad, who was scowling as usual. “But why are
we leaving so early?”

A contemptuous expression
on his face, dad said, “I guess you have no idea that I’m the whole reason this
gala is taking place, do you?”

I shrugged. “I’m not
psychic,” I replied, sounding sullen to my own ears. “If you don’t tell me
these things, how do you expect me to know?”

“Well maybe if you decided
to take a bigger interest in what went on in this family rather than heading on
your path to destruction, you’d be in the loop,” dad replied. Involuntarily, my
eyes widened with astonishment. He had some nerve saying that I didn’t care
about what went on in our family when he was rarely home!

 What a hypocrite!

I grunted, deciding not to
push it. He was entitled to his own opinion, even though it was wrong, as
usual. Jeeze, what could I do just to prove myself to him? Everything I did was
wrong these days. “Whatever,” I said quietly, stuffing my hands into my pants
pockets. “So we’re leaving early because the gala is for you?”

Dad clapped, a malicious light
in his eyes. “Finally he gets it,” he drawled sarcastically. “Yes, we have to
be there by 7. Where’s your jacket?”

“It’s in my room,” I
replied, suddenly feeling tired again as dad looked me up and down, obviously
trying to find something wrong with my clothes.

“Why are you wearing
sneakers? And where the hell is your tie?” he demanded to know.

Running a hand through my
hair, I told him, “I’m not gonna wear a tie and I can’t find my dress shoes.”

I didn’t think it was a
big deal, but apparently it was.

“Stop playing around,
Lucas. We have to leave. Go get your tie, jacket and change out of those
ridiculous shoes right now,” dad commanded, sounding impatient.

“I’m gonna get my jacket
coz I have to,” I said firmly, staring dad in the eye. “But I’m not wearing a
tie.” Ties were so unfreakingcomfortable. Two hours with one on and I’d be
clawing at my neck, trying to get it off. “And I’m definitely not wearing those
ugly ass shoes.”

Pointed toes, shiny
leather? No thanks.

Hope was crouching next to
Faith, wiping her face as she tried to pretend that she wasn’t listening to our
little father/son moment.

“You don’t want to argue
with me, son,” dad said menacingly, taking a step forward. I stood my ground.
He was used to wearing ties, but I was worried about my own comfort.

“I’m not trying to argue
with you, dad. But you’re already forcing me to go to this thing; you made me
get a date, even though I didn’t want to. I don’t need to wear a tie. C’mon.
Give me a break.”

Fists clenched, dad
glowered at me. Why was he always in such a foul temper these days? I guess it
was true. The one thing money couldn’t buy was happiness. Dad was living proof
of that.

Eventually, after a couple
seconds of angry eye contact, he shrugged. “Your date better be worth it,” was
all he said as he turned away from me. “Go put your jacket on. We leave in
fifteen minutes.”

I stared at his back. “So,
are we going to pick up my date before the gala?”

That had originally been
my plan, before I realized that dad wanted the whole family to leave together.
So how was I gonna pick CiCi up?

“Send a car for her,” was
dad’s brusque reply as he strode out of the living room, leaving me feeling
slightly drained as I always did every time I talked to him.

Turning to Hope, I rolled
my eyes and shrugged. “Tell me the honest truth, Hope,” I said, sitting on a
couch. “If you were going on a date and a guy sent a car for you, would you
think he was just setting you up?”

Because that’s what I
would think. Yet dad had to make a simple thing so complicated.

“Call her and tell her
that there’s been a change of plan,” Hope suggested, whipping out a lint brush
from her purse and attacking my shirt with it.

“It’s so annoying,” I
groaned, putting my head in my hands. “Why the hell can’t I just go pick CiCi
up and meet up with you guys at the hotel?”

“Sweetie, this is what
your dad wants,” Hope said in a reverent voice.

Basically, anything dad
wants, he gets.

I fished my phone out of
my pocket and scrolled down the list of contacts till I found CiCi’s number and
pressed call.

She answered on the second
ring (yes, I counted) sounding out of breath. “Hello?”

“Hey, CiCi,” I said,
grinning to myself for no particular reason.

“Hi Luke! What’s up?”

“Um, slight change of
plan,” I said slowly. “Do you mind if I send a car for you? My dad’s issued a
decree saying that my family needs to be at the hotel at 7.”

CiCi giggled softly and I
tried to control my breathing.

“Issued a decree? Well, I
don’t think I want to mess with that,” she replied teasingly. She thought I was
kidding. I didn’t bother correcting her.

“Yeah, it would be better
if you didn’t,” I joked. “So, is that okay?”

“You know what; I’ll just
go with Robyn since I’m with her right now. That way you don’t need to waste
gas on something trivial.”

Picking her up was
trivial
?
If only she knew how much I was looking forward to just looking at her pretty
face. And if only she knew how much I was trying to hide that.

“That makes more sense,” I
agreed. “And trivial isn’t a word I’d use to describe you.”

“Really? What word would you
use then? Weird?”

I shook my head. “How
about ‘habit-forming’?”

There was a short silence.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she finally said, sounding hesitant.

“It
was
a
compliment,” I said and I meant it. “Habit-forming, like cocaine. Can’t get enough
of you. That kind of thing.”

CiCi laughed. “You’re a
trip, Luke. I’ll see you later, okay?”

I hung up just as Hope
started fixing my collar.

“You sound like you’re
looking forward to hanging with your date,” she said absently, brushing my hair
back from my forehead.

A grin spread across my
face as I said, “That’s because I kinda am.”

“She’s pretty. And she’s
nice,” Faith said unexpectedly. “Luke, are you going to dance with her?”

“That depends,” I replied,
twisting in my seat to look at her. “Will you let me?”

Faith nodded fervently. “A
slow song. And you have to kiss her hand, like Prince Charming kissed
Cinderella’s hand.”

Hope shook her head,
picking up the lint brush and sticking it back in her bag. “You watch too many
cartoons, Faith,” she said fondly.

“I know,” Faith nodded
complacently. “But will you kiss her hand Luke? Please?”

I shrugged. Whatever
floats your boat. “Sure thing, princess,” I agreed.

Faith nodded happily.
“Good,” she said, just as dad roared, “Let’s go!”

Waldorf-Astoria
Hotel

Despite the fact that dad
was so eager to be the first person to arrive, when we entered the hotel foyer,
there was already a large crowd of invited guests milling around. I wondered
whether all these early birds were being honoured too, or if they just liked to
arrive at events half an hour before start time.

Once we got to the grand
ballroom and were ushered to our table for 5 by an overeager concierge, dad was
swept up by a group of expensively dressed business men and taken to the
nearest bar. A few seconds later, Hope, after entrusting Faith to my care, took
off with a bunch of Manhattan housewives to stand in a corner and bitch about
people’s outfits. I’m sure I was the main point of conversation, but I didn’t
give a damn. I
was
wearing sneakers, after all.

Friends of my father kept
coming up to ‘chat’ with me and Faith, thinking that it would get them into
dad’s good books. They had no way of knowing that I was persona non grata right
now.

“What time’s Celsi gonna
be here, Luke?” Faith asked me, inquisitively looking up into my face.

“I don’t know, princess.
Probably soon,” I told her, smoothing back her hair from her forehead.

She smiled at me, poking
her tongue through the gap where her front tooth used to be. “Are you excited,
Luke?” she wanted to know.

Nodding honestly, I
grinned down at her. I
was
excited, even though I still wasn’t quite
sure why. “I sure am.”

“Me too.” Faith twirled
again and her dress fluttered around her legs. “Do you think she’ll like my
dress?”

I tugged playfully on a
ringlet of her hair. “Course she will,” I assured her. “Anyone normal would
love your dress, princess.”

Faith beamed. “I need to
go bathroom,” she whispered furtively, looking around to make sure that no one
was listening. “Can you come with me? Please?”

“I’ll come with you, but
I’m not going in with you,” I joked, waving my finger in her face as she
giggled. “Can you imagine what the ladies would say?”

A grave expression on her
face, Faith nodded in agreement. “Yeah, not a good idea. You can just wait for
me outside.”

She slipped her small hand
into mine and I let her lead me to the bathrooms. As Faith reached up to open
the heavy door leading to the Ladies Room, it opened from the inside and Wendy
and Joanna stepped out, chatting rapidly.

Joanna’s eyes sparkled as
she saw me. “Luke! Hi!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me and
enveloping me in her expensive perfume. The fabric of her black dress scratched
against my shirt as I hugged her back and whispered, “You look good enough to
eat,” in her ear. She giggled as she ran her hands up and down my back. I hoped
her boyfriend wasn’t anywhere near, or I was dead.

Over Joanna's shoulder,
Wendy shot me a cool look. “Girls bathroom, Luke? Really?”

I childishly stuck my
tongue out at her as Joanna stepped back, giving me a perfect view of her sexy
little black dress. A lot of effort had evidently gone into her look and I
appreciated it. She looked hot.

“I’m babysitting Faith,
blondie,” I told Wendy, who snorted.

Joanna knelt awkwardly
till she was face to face with Faith, who gave her a level look.

 For some odd reason,
Faith had never really liked Joanna, who had even stooped to bribing her with
candy when we started dating. Sure, Faith had eaten the candy (greedily, if I
might add) but she still didn’t like Joanna, no matter what tactics she tried.
Faith was weird like that. Some people she took a shine to immediately and
instinctively adored; other people she couldn’t care less about. Wendy and
Joanna fell into the second category. Wendy didn’t care since she didn’t like
kids, but Joanna was always on a mission to get Faith to be her BFF.

“Hi sweetie, you look so
adorable in your pretty pink dress! Did you pick it out yourself?” Joanna
gushed.

Faith nodded mutely at
Joanna’s question, which was worded in baby talk. It was painful yet hilarious
to listen to. I always suspected the real reason Faith disliked Joanna is
because she insisted on treating her like a baby. Faith was one of the most
adult five year olds that I knew (not that I knew many five year olds, thank
God). Joanna and her insufferable baby talk were just insults to Faith’s
intelligence.

“Wow, you have style,
sweetie! What do you want to be when you grow up? A fashion designer?”

Faith shot me an ‘is she
serious’ look that made me snicker. “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I
wanna be a cat doctor.”

“That’s adorable, you
smart girl! Isn’t that adorable, Wendy?” Joanna asked, looking to Wendy for
support. Yeah right.

Yawning, a bored looking
Wendy said, “I could take it or leave it.”

I always got the feeling
that Joanna sucked up to Faith for my benefit, maybe thinking that if she
finally hit it off with Faith (which was about as likely to happen as Dr. Khan
giving me good news about my aneurysm) it would win her points with me.
Sometimes I swear she forgot that she was the one who dumped me.

Politely, Faith replied,
“I have to go bathroom now.”

She tripped into the
bathroom as Joanna got to her feet, her knees popping.

“She’s such a sweetheart,”
she enthused.

Wendy snorted rudely. “The
kid hates you!”

Joanna turned to her,
taken aback. “She does
not!”

Tossing her shiny blonde
hair, Wendy said, “Whatever, Joanna.” She turned to me, her hands on her slim
hips. “Luke, I have to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” I said agreeably.

“Celsi Sawyer over my
cousin Lynn? What the hell, dude?”

Joanna shot us a confused
look. Hell, I was confused. How the hell had Wendy found out?

“What are you talking
about?” Joanna wanted to know. “What does Celsi have to do with anything?”

Sneering down her nose at
me, Wendy said, “I’ll tell you. Luke invited Celsi Sawyer to the gala as his
date.”

And that’s when the
proverbial shit hit the fan.

CHAPTER 15

wonderful
tonight.

Joanna turned on me, her
lips compressed into a thin line. “I seriously hope she’s joking. Did you
really?” she asked.

Before I could open my
mouth to answer her, Wendy did. “Why the hell would I be joking?” she asked,
lips twisted in a vicious smile. Wendy lived to make trouble. “Ahmed told me.
He heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, and yes, I’m talking about Celsi.”

Eyes wide, Joanna stared
at me. “Is it true?” she asked.

I nodded slowly. No use in
lying about it, they would have found out anyway. I just wished I didn’t have
to deal with the unpleasant questions that I was sure were coming. Nobody could
out bitch Joanna and Wendy, once they got started.

Wendy punched the air
triumphantly. “I knew it!” she crowed.

“Wait, where did Celsi
tell Ahmed?” I asked her, trying to get to the bottom of this perplexing
situation. CiCi and Ahmed barely spoke. I couldn’t imagine her telling him her
business.

“She stayed at his place
last night,” Wendy said breezily, leaning closer to me. She nudged me in the
stomach. “So spill. Why her? Is it a prank? A bet? What?”

Running a hand through my
hair, I ground out, “No prank
or
bet, Wendy, damn!”

Did she really think I had
nothing better to do with my life than plot and scheme against innocent girls?

Pouting, Wendy said, “I’m
just trying to figure out why you would ask
her
to the gala! She’s not
one of us!”

Joanna nodded, a frown
creasing her forehead. “Yeah, why would you ask her over me?”

“Jo, I told you why I
couldn’t ask you,” I reminded her patiently. Her scowl deepened.

“You didn’t tell me why
you couldn’t ask Lynn, who waited for your call,” Wendy said accusingly.

I debated on whether to
reply
‘because Lynn was as boring as hell and I’d rather have my aneurysm
implode than spend an evening with her’
but decided against it and
muttered, “I’ll send her an apology note.”