My company spared no expenses to organize this event. I assume Kyle really wanted to impress the big boss, and he went out of his way, and possibly budget, to do so. He must have spent every last penny for recreational activities on this. In all likelihood we’re not going to have a Christmas party this year; that is, if I’m still with the company by then.
I’ve been mulling the question of what to do next for a while now. I want to find something that will make me happy, something that will give me purpose. The only reason I’m staying is “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.
Being able to spy on Vanessa is definitely a plus for my mission, but by Christmas they will either be married or not, meaning that I’ll no longer need to spy on her. Whatever happens, a change of scenery will be good for me. I foresee that being in Vanessa’s proximity will become impossible either way.
But let’s get back to the present. The buffet tables have been set outside in the garden and offer a magnificent display of sophisticated finger food. Under normal circumstances, I would be overexcited at the prospect of splurging on such a feast without having to worry about my waistline, but today my stomach is on shutdown and I barely nibble on a couple of canapés to avoid fainting due to low blood sugar.
“You have barely touched anything,” The genie echoes my thoughts.
“I know, but I’m too nervous. Do you see them?”
“No, I have seen neither of them since breakfast. Let me get you a glass of Champagne. It will help your nerves a little.”
“You sure know how to treat a lady. I’ll wait here.”
I decide I’d better eat something else if I want to survive until the next meal. According to the event program, we’ll have team building activities and games until four-thirty, and dinner will be at six-thirty.
“So, where is the secret boyfriend?”
Vanessa’s voice makes me almost choke on half a cheese puff, and squeeze the other half in my left hand.
“Hi chwk Vanessa. He…hwk…went to get me something to drink.”
“Same for James,” she says. “I expect he’ll be here any minute.”
And with that my insides lock for good. I quit any attempt at eating anything else and throw the remaining crippled half of the cheese pastry in a trash can. I am trying to cleanse the squishy mash on my left hand when Vanessa very unceremoniously grabs my wrist.
“Is this a Rolex?” she asks in disbelief.
Okay, I have to admit that while boosting the genie’s accessories collection I bought a little extra bling for me as well.
“Mmm, yes,” I answer her very impolite question. Mrs. Van Horn should worry a little bit less about her precious daughter’s weight, and a little bit more about her manners, if you ask me.
“It’s very expensive,” she remarks, probably implying I can’t afford it. Even ruder!
“Oh, I know.” I’ve come prepared. “It was a present from Arthur.”
“Who?”
“My boyfriend, remember? Who else?”
“What does he do?”
“He works in finance.”
That shuts her up.
To avoid any further unpleasant conversation, I pretend to be busy selecting my next tidbit while fixing my gaze on the bar instead. I see James coming in our direction the moment he detaches himself from the drinks line. He’s stunningly handsome in a simple white shirt, military green chinos, and white sneakers.
I turn around, pretending to be completely absorbed by the pending choice of the next delicacy to eat. I still have my back to Vanessa when I hear him arrive.
“Hey babe, here’s your drink.”
“Is this water?” she spits meanly.
See? No “thank you”. She should definitely take that etiquette class.
“Yeah, the line for the booze was infinite,” James answers.
“Hello,” I say, turning around when I can no longer feign interest in the buffet.
“Hwk…hi.” It’s James’s turn to choke on his water.
I wave my hand once in an awkward response.
“Ally is waiting for her boyfriend to bring back drinks as well,” Vanessa kindly explains.
James raises his eyebrows in what seems a mix between surprise and interrogation; I don’t know what to say in front of Vanessa, so I simply keep my mouth shut while I briefly infiltrate James’s subconscious.
I don’t pick up any words, just a mix of contrasting emotions: shock, bewilderment, anger, jealousy, and melancholy. But what astonish me the most is that he also feels a deep pain, exactly like mine when I think about him with Vanessa, but mingled with something different…a sense of resignation and hopeless defeat.
I am sure that dumping me and seeing me with another man must be two very different things, but I don’t understand; he’s feeling desperate at the thought of having lost me for good! It doesn’t make any sense. I so wish Vanessa wasn’t here so that I could talk to him alone.
Finally, the long, embarrassing silence is interrupted by the genie coming back with our drinks.
“Your Champagne, darling,” he says, offering me a tall glass filled with the sparkling liquid.
“I thought the line for the wine was impossible,” snaps Vanessa again, eyeing James reproachfully.
“Indeed it was, but I have my ways,” the genie replies, showing off all his charm. “Arthur Pemberley, and whom do I have the pleasure to be speaking to?” His Queen’s English accent sounds so posh.
“Vanessa Van Horne, nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand.
“Enchanté,” he replies, kissing her hand in the French style instead of shaking it.
“May I introduce my fiancé James?” she says, giggling, visibly impressed by the genie’s gallantry but still stressing the word fiancé. For my sole benefit, I am sure.
“I believe we briefly met over breakfast. Nice to meet you properly. Arthur Pemberley.” He gives James a manly handshake.
“James Avery.” Is that a real surname? Good looking and strong handshake, but I can’t believe Ally could fall for such a moron.
I have to admit James is right. I dressed Arthur more to Vanessa’s taste than my own. He’s wearing a pale beige linen suit, something James would never wear, but the trick is working. It’s making both of them jealous, only in different ways.
“So what do you do, Arthur?” Vanessa asks.
“I work in finance. I was just recently relocated to the United States from London.”
Finance…what? She hates bankers! James’s brain chimes in.
I don’t hate bankers.
This encounter is driving James and Vanessa crazy. Yep, exactly as planned. Muahahah!
“So you just met,” Vanessa affirms, saying it as if it was the only possible explanation for our being together.
“Oh no, we go way back,” I chip in. “We met when I was in London many years ago. And when Arthur moved here, well, it was…it just happened,” I say in a dreamy voice, sticking to my act.
The small talk goes on a little longer; I don’t intercept any more comments from James’s mind, just a strong wave of aversion toward the genie. And the best thing is that he is jealous of me and not of his fiancée, who is openly flirting with Arthur!
Luckily, soon enough a speaker interrupts us, announcing the beginning of the afternoon’s activities, inviting everybody to go change into sportswear. I’m grateful for the intrusion in our conversation. Watching Vanessa trying to simultaneously mark her territory with my ex-boyfriend and seduce my fake boyfriend was too much. I hope I’ll find a way to get James alone later…
It doesn’t happen.
The afternoon passes in a whirl of ball games, boat races, and role games. I didn’t have a free second; I was either busy running away or toward a ball, depending on the game, paddling, or strategizing. Overall, it was a fun afternoon. The genie was a good sport, and we had so much fun during the boat race, even if we qualified second to last.
Admittedly, it wasn’t entirely our fault since we were in a team with Sally and her husband Josh, who has the bulkiness of an Atlantic whale, and even if I shredded him twenty pounds upon sight he still conserves the weight of a small elephant. Getting him in the boat was an accomplishment by itself, and by the end I was grateful we arrived without tipping over in the lake.
Anyway, he and Sally are really nice, down-to-earth people, plus Josh has as much liveliness as body fat, and it was a blast to ride with them. I kept chuckling and couldn’t be bothered to row that much. I let the genie do all the puffing.
On the other hand, Vanessa is very competitive. She and James ended up on the podium.
“What do you think?” I ask, twirling into the room in my new gown for the evening.
I am wearing a silver silk Marchesa evening dress, embellished with lace and some see-through details.
“I could not imagine anything nearer to perfect beauty.”
“Thank you,” I smile, doing a little curtsy. “I want James with his mouth open, gaping like a fish.”
I admire my reflection in the wardrobe’s giant mirror. It’s great to have a model’s body. Clothes fit me to perfection, and I never have to wear a bra anymore as everything stays exactly where it should. Unfortunately, there’s no magic that could spare me the discomfort of wearing high heels, I muse, putting on a pair of metallic leather Jimmy Choo sandals in silver.
I mean, I could have elongated myself a bit, but it would have been too obvious a change. I can have more hair, flawless skin, and no cellulite. On the other hand, nobody would believe I’ve suddenly grown two inches overnight.
“You are not so bad yourself,” I concede, eying the genie approvingly.
He’s gorgeous in his black tuxedo, white shirt, black bow tie (impeccably tied), and black leather shoes.
“I feel more comfortable in this kind of attire,” he comments. “I still wish I could wear a hat and bring my cane.”
“No hat for you, I’m sorry. But you can give me your arm and escort me downstairs.”
“Gladly so, but I suggest we wait until we are outside.” He smiles.
“Oh, right.” I’d been having physical contact with him all afternoon during the games. I had almost forgotten about the freezing rule.
To find our seats, we have to check a huge board standing at the entrance of the dining room. The moment I find our names, I start checking for James and Vanessa’s, but it’s no good. Their table is on the opposite side of the room.
So far this day has been a huge disappointment, James-wise. I got half an hour of interrupted small talking with him and that was it. If I don’t talk with him tonight, this whole weekend will be a total waste. My time is running out. At least we are at a table with Sally and Josh; if useless, at least dinner will not be boring.
And it isn’t. I’m enjoying myself so much that between the amazing food, the good wine, the great company, and the genie, who is a true charmer, I almost forget about James. Almost.
But as soon as the speaker takes the microphone to announce a round of karaoke, the heaviness of the situation comes back to me immediately and my feeble exterior cheeriness fades away quickly, leaving me in a gloomy mood.
There is a sign-up sheet being passed among tables for people to book a spot onstage. How tacky! I would never sing in public. I’m not a showoff. Hm, truth be told, I could never strike an on-tune note for the life of me; I am as off-key as it gets.
I am surprised to see how many people have the confidence to do it and sign-up on the list, Sally and Josh included. I must be openly staring at them, because they feel the need to justify themselves and tell me they’re doing a little duet they always like to do on such occasions.
“What about you?”
“Oh, no, no. Not for me,” I say, passing the sheet of paper along as fast as I can.
After half an hour of amateur karaoke, we had some good singers, some mediocre ones, and one terrible performance from a girl in human resources who probably doesn’t have a clue how bad she is. I’m becoming restless. I keep shifting in my seat and I’m bored out of my mind.
“I think I’ll go get some air,” I tell the genie.
“Do you want me to accompany you?”
“No, I’m good, thank you,” I reply, getting up.
“Next on stage we have…Ally Johnson from Marketing!” the guy in charge of the karaoke announces.
Did he just call my name? I stare up at the stage in confusion. If I were still sitting, I could try to hide and have them call the next name, but I’m already up and everyone is looking at me. They think I am about to sing!
I’m frozen to the spot. I feel cold drops of sweat trickle down my back. I’m vaguely aware of some people cheering and encouraging me to take the stage. How the hell did this happen? I look around, still confused, searching for an answer. The genie is looking at me, perplexed, Josh and Sally are giving me the thumbs-up, and everyone else seems to be getting impatient at my indecision. I scrutinize all the faces around me that are quickly passing from a benevolent, encouraging smile to a more of a what-is-she-waiting-for annoyed expression, until my eyes stop on Vanessa’s. She, contrarily to everybody else, has an amused expression with a devilish smile barely surfacing her lips.
They’re all going to laugh at you, Ally Johnson…you’re so going to make a fool of yourself.
Then I get I clear mental image of her writing my name on the karaoke list.
Oooh. The bitch! She did this to me!
“Come on, Ally,” the audience cries from every direction. “Go, girl.”
Crap, I have no way out. I’m done for, ruined. I’m going to sound worse than Cameron Diaz in My Best Friend’s Wedding singing “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself”!
Maybe I should choose the same song. The title is appropriate enough, and I could try to cute-out the public as she did, making them forget how badly I suck. Or…
“Get up,” I hiss to the genie, signaling him to come toward me. “Come here, hug me.”
He does as I say, and while he’s holding me close I whisper in his ear the only hope I have for salvation.
The crowd is applauding and cheering us on. “Kiss the girl,” someone shouts. I’m about to shush the howler when the genie surprises me and presses his lips onto mine in response to the challenge. My knees become a little weak, but I don’t even have the time to register what’s going on because he’s already releasing me and giving me a gentle push toward the stage, smiling at my affronted scowl.
He gives me that little wink again, and my stomach promptly responds with a tiny flip. No, I’m sure it’s just stage fright. I stride toward the stage, feeling a mix of pure dread and sheer excitement. Will it work?
I confabulate briefly with the band to choose my song.
“Are you sure?” the guitar player asks me. “It’s a very tough song, you know?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life,” I answer, grabbing the microphone and positioning myself in the middle of the spotlight, ready to sing Adele’s “Don’t You Remember”.
Not many people in the room are paying me attention; they’re still busy chattering at their tables, but the moment I open my mouth to sing the first few lines, the whole room falls silent and I see every single face turns toward me.
My voice surprises even me when I hear it, as I’ve never heard it like this before. It’s dark and heavy, full and bright, but soft and airy at the same time. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I trust completely in my vocal cords that seem to have a mind of their own as they spiral from one note to the next.
I note with satisfaction that Vanessa’s mouth is hanging open in utter disbelief. I want to look at James, but I wait until the chorus to lock my eyes onto his and sing the words I’ve been wanting to say to him since he left me. Asking him again and again if he remembers me, our story, our love…
I pitch the higher notes of the song, piercing the silence of the room, baring my soul and making it one with the words, finishing in a soft whisper infused with all my love and pain.
When I finish, the crowd stays still for a few seconds, awestruck, enchanted by my spell. The applause that follows is equally thunderous to the outright silence preceding it, and it goes on forever. I make a small bow and almost run out of the room, overwhelmed by my own emotions.
How did I do it? I cheated. I used my fourth wish to ask for the best singing voice the world has ever heard. It might seem foolish to use a wish like this, but any doubt I might have had dissipated the moment I started singing. I’ve never felt more free or powerful than tonight onstage.
From the hall, I decide to go outside. Some fresh air will be good to cool down the rollercoaster of emotions I’ve just been through. Once in the garden, I head toward the lake and stop on a covered deck over the water where the night air gently brushes my skin. I lean against the deck’s wooden railing, look at the moon glowing in the night sky, breathe in the scent of the water, and feel liberated.