The Art of Starting Over

Epilogue - The Art of Finishing

ALLY

People start to gather early. The invitation said eight o'clock. It is still twenty minutes to eight and the hallway and courtyard are already hosting an impressive crowd of the bold, the rich and the beautiful. I fret with my dress nervously.

"Stop fidgeting. You look fine."

"Wow! You really know how to compliment a woman, don't you?" I say to Jeremy rolling my eyes.

He turns to me with a devilish half-smile and a familiar burning builds up deep inside my navel. Jeremy is a sight to behold tonight. He looks amazing in his black tuxedo and sinister glare, his bright eyes glowing at me in his clean-shaven face. My insides turn to gravy as he steps closer and leans in until I feel his hot breath below my ear.

"Do you really want me to compliment you in public, Sparky?"

I feel the colour rush to my cheeks. Good God, he makes me melt with just the lustrous tone of his voice. He bites his lower lip and stares me down through his icy blue eyes, perfectly satisfied with the effect he has on me. His mouth curls as he sees the lust in my eyes.

Cocky bastard!

"Didn't think so," he mutters knowingly before lifting his gaze back to the front door. His expression changes instantly.

"Oh boy," he sighs. "Here we go."

I turn around and see a middle-aged couple walking towards us. The woman is absolutely breathtaking. No other words can be used to describe her. Her jet-black hair is intricately assembled at the nape of her neck. She has a few fine wrinkles around her full mouth and brown, feline eyes but other than that, her skin is perfectly smooth and has that rich-person glow. Her magnificent long, maroon dress is made out of fine silk and perfectly showcases her figure. A simple, drop diamond necklace complements the low neckline.

The man beside her pales in comparison, however, there is an air about him that makes him somewhat attractive. He has light blue eyes and light brown hair that's lightly streaked with white.

"Who's that?" I ask curiously.

Jeremy's jaw clenches and he replies,"My mother."

I suddenly notice the resemblance and my heart starts beating very fast. I didn't know he invited his parents to the grand opening of The Alison. My mind goes back to the first and only time I spoke to her over the phone and I feel a faint sheen of sweat forming on my face.

"Good evening, my darling," Mrs Cordina says in a breathy voice when they reach us. "Looks like you've organised quite the gathering. The place looks marvellous."

The little hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge as I turn my attention to Jeremy, who looks like he's sucking a particularly sour lemon.

"Good evening, Mother. Uncle John," he adds without looking in the man's direction.

Uncle John?

Ah yes! I only saw Jeremy's father once but I remember the experience vividly. John is like the younger, less handsome but somehow more appealing version of Jeremy's ominous father.

"Jeremy," Uncle John acknowledges with a hint of humility in his eyes.

I feel Jeremy tense beside me and I slide my hand through his and squeeze it gently. His mother sees and eyes me condescendingly. Her eyes stop on our intertwined hands, then on my face, then go back to Jeremy.

"I'm afraid your father won't be coming tonight, Jeremy. He had an important business dinner to attend to. Probably with the new secretary," she says scathingly, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Then nodding her head vaguely in my direction she adds, "Care to introduce us?"