Chapter Ten

 

 

 

Kelly was studying a sculpture of a child asleep in her mother’s arms—one of three works at the exhibition that were the results of preliminary studies Alexander Valentine had done for the sculpture that would grace the foyer of the women and children’s hospital—when the ping! ping! ping! against the side of a champagne flute brought the buzz of polite conversation to a halt. There was a soft hum followed by a loud pop and crackle over the sound system, then the director, Candice Holland’s, voice filled the room, breathless with excitement.

“May I have your attention, please. It’s my pleasure to extend all of you Hendricks Gallery’s warmest welcome to what is, without a doubt, our highlight of the year—the Valentine exhibition and auction for the benefit of the Cascadia Hospital for Women and Children. It’s even more my pleasure to welcome you now that you’ve all opened your checkbooks so generously. A little reminder that the silent auction for the pieces marked will go on all week, and let me just say, the money is pouring in.”

There was a round of enthusiastic applause, which the woman patiently waited for before she continued. “When we were approached by Mr. Valentine’s people, we were both elated by the offer and astounded by the sheer generosity of the man to donate so much of his exquisite work for such a good cause. I can tell by the buzz and the energy in this room tonight that everyone here is as excited as I am. But never mind the energy. Never mind the excitement. Let’s talk cold, hard cash, shall we?” There was an even bigger round of applause, and when the room quieted once again, Ms. Holland looked down at the small piece of paper she held in her hand. “Remember, half of the art on exhibit here tonight is being sold in the silent auction. That should excite you all terribly, when you hear that tonight, we’ve raised over five million dollars, the Horse and Rider in the grand foyer alone going for a cool three quarters of a million.”

The resulting applause was thunderous, and Kelly was elated to know that it had been her favorite sculpture that had brought the most.

Kelly had moved into the main exhibition hall where she could see the woman standing at a wooden podium on a small stage that had been set for guests of honor, but at the moment, Ms. Holland was the only one on the stage. Kelly missed what the woman said next in her eager glance around to see if she could pick out the elusive Alexander Valentine. As the crowd pushed closer to the stage, phones poised at the ready to get the first ever glimpses and photos of the artist, she knew they were doing exactly the same.

In the crowding of the stage, however, Kelly couldn’t keep from noticing that the area to the left of the platform had been cleared by plain clothes security all the way back to the side entrance. Kelly’s uncle owned a security company, and she’d spent lots of time with him and his daughter when she was younger. She knew how to recognize plain clothes security, though in this case it couldn’t have been more obvious. What the hell was going on? She returned her attention to the rambling Ms. Holland, who was saying how excited everyone at Hendricks was to be the gallery in which Alexander Valentine would make his first public appearance.

Then she rattled on about the man’s illustrious career and how excited they all were that the exhibition would be held over for the public for two weeks because, as Mr. Valentine had said, art should be for everyone.

“Get on with it, already,” Myrna whispered as she moved to stand next to Kelly.

It was then that Kelly noticed Dillon Mathews, Alex Valens’ PA, standing at the door to the left of the stage, and the niggle of a suspicion rose in her chest and made her pulse jump. She grabbed Myrna’s arm. “What the hell’s he doing here?”

Before Myrna could comment, Candice Holland cut to the chase and welcomed Alexander Valentine. Dillon Matthews then pushed the door to the left of the stage open and stood back as none other than Alex Valens, dressed in a black tux that looked like it was made for him, broad shoulders squared, face the epitome of calm, walked into the room to a thunderous round of applause.

“I’m stupid,” Kelly said, taking a step forward on legs that no longer felt quite like they were connected with the floor, feeling like all the air in the room had been sucked out of that side exit when Alex Valens, AKA Alexander Valentine, walked through it. “I’m so fucking stupid. How could I be so damn stupid?”

She took another step forward with Myrna at her elbow, hissing in her ear, “Stupid? What’s stupid? Why the hell are you stupid?”

“Alex Valens is Alexander Valentine.”

“Are you serious? You can’t be serious. You’re serious. Holy shit!”

She received a glare and a shush from the rotund woman in front of them, who looked like she was dressed in a tapestry, then the entire room fell silent except for the snap, snap, snapping of cameras and smart phones, which, Alex…Alexander…er…Lex took calmly, standing for a moment in what could only be considered a pose, as though he were born to it. For a second, Kelly wondered if the man had been lying to her about his haphephobia, but the left side of the stage remained clear and Candice Holland had been very careful not to touch him when he stepped onto the stage. There hadn’t been so much as a handshake. A sudden knot in Kelly’s stomach tightened to a fist and, for a second, she couldn’t breathe. Dear God, what the hell was the man doing here? She took another step forward then froze like a deer in headlights as he looked right at her, offered a sincere smile and cleared his throat to speak.

 

When the door opened, when Lex heard the applause, saw Dillon’s reassuring but worried smile, it was all much easier than he expected it to be. His legs worked just fine. They didn’t shake and he didn’t fall over his feet. There was no cold sweat, no butterflies other than the usual that accompanied a public speaking experience. But then it shouldn’t surprise him too much, not really. For him, there was only one person in the room, only one that mattered anyway, and he was a man on a mission that had nothing to do with the wonderful new women and children’s hospital the auction would help build, no matter how much he believed in the work. He would make things right with Kelly Blake tonight or know the reason why not. As for humiliating himself in front of so many people, well yes, that was a very distinct possibility. The logistics of keeping hands off his person were staggering, he was sure, and yet Dillon had managed it. He knew that his friend was worried, and he would be, too, if he wasn’t so focused. As he climbed the stairs to the stage, cameras and smart phones flashed. He’d been expecting that. It was all right. Let them take photos, he was a bit of an anomaly after all, and he would gladly pose for the guests if it would get him a chance to be with Kelly.

When he reached the podium, he stood quietly for a few moments, smiling out at the audience, letting them have their photo op as he looked out over crowded space, taking them all in with his warmest smile—at least that was how it must have appeared to them—but the truth was his smile was for one person only, the woman he’d fantasized about seeing again every day since he woke up in the middle of the marble kitchen island to find her gone. A red dress, Dillon had said. Heart’s blood red, he’d called it. His pulse raced at the thought. In truth, there were a good few women in red dresses, but not heart’s blood red, not the color he pictured suiting Kelly Blake like no other he could imagine. The snapping of cameras had died back to only a few, and now the crowd leaned forward to hear what the great Alexander Valentine had to say to them. Fuck, if only they knew. And just when things might have gotten awkward if he didn’t say something, he spotted her toward the back in the grand entryway, behind the Horse and Rider looming white against the red, like a vision, like a dream. Dillon had been so right. She was breathtaking. She was flanked by the woman he assumed to be her secretary, who looked nearly as surprised as she did. He wished like hell she was closer so he could be certain if the look on her face was shock, or surprise, or confusion. At least it didn’t appear to be anger. But she really was a little far from the stage for him to be sure of what was going through her beautiful head. They could iron all that out later. She was here. That was the main thing. He took a deep breath, feeling suddenly, completely happy—something he could never remember feeling before. He let that sink in for the tiniest of seconds, then he began to speak.

 

Kelly hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he began to speak, then she gulped air as though in doing so she could take in his words.

“You’ll have to excuse me in my awkwardness,” he said, still holding her gaze. “I don’t get out much.”

To that, the crowd responded with an appreciative chuckle.

He continued. “As you can imagine, I’m quite outside my comfort zone at the moment, but sometimes there are very good reasons to push the boundaries that we’re used to. Sometimes there are very good reasons to take the risk, to throw caution to the wind and just do what needs to be done.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he spoke, a favor she blatantly returned. She always looked people in the eyes when they spoke to her, and she was certain he was speaking to her. She was certain his message was for her. She was surprised to find that there was not so much as a tremor in his voice, though he most definitely looked pale, and Dillon had moved to the foot of the steps, watching him with hawk eyes. Dear God, what a risk the man was taking! He was either very brave or very stupid, and she knew he wasn’t the latter.

“It’s very easy for those of us who were raised to privilege to go through our lives with blinders on, to spend our days in our own little well-protected worlds, insulated by our good fortune while we remain totally unaware of the plight of those around us who haven’t had such good fortune, who have had struggles we can’t even imagine. But being privileged doesn’t mean we’re not members of the world community, and it doesn’t absolve us of our responsibility toward the rest of that community. No one knows better than I that privilege doesn’t protect any of us from tragedy, from pain, from loss. In this, there is no separating ourselves from the rest of humanity. In this, our need for comfort, for community, for hope, for solace is just as raw, just as aching. We’re here tonight to remember that we all face our humanity together, from the moment of our birth to the instant of our death. That being the case, we’re also here because all of us have come, in our own personal ways, perhaps through our own tragedies, to realize that with our privilege comes responsibility, and I’m happy to see so many here taking that responsibility seriously.”

Kelly was certain the whole crowd leaned forward in an effort to get closer to Alexander Valentine. The irony of their desire to be close and his desire to keep a safe distance was not lost on her. He nodded at one of the sculptures to his left, another of the clinic preliminaries, a heavily pregnant woman cradling her belly in an embrace not unlike the way she might hold the child once it was born. The look on her face was concentration, tenderness, excitement and hope. “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world,” he said. “Too often we forget that. Too often we forget that the welfare of women is the welfare of our children. The welfare of our children is the welfare of every single one of us. And the welfare of every single one of us is both our inheritance and our legacy.” He paused to catch his breath, ran his teeth over his bottom lip, and the look on his face darkened. “My own good mother died tragically a long time ago, and I’m a lesser man for her absence. Hers is an absence I feel in ways that are still being revealed to me every day of my life. This event, this auction, was conceived in her honor, and I hope that each of you will think of your own mothers and daughters and sons as the Cascadia Women and Children’s Hospital becomes a reality. It will be your legacy to those who birth the next generation. Let that next generation be birthed in safety and good health.”

The applause was thunderous, and everything went smoothly until Alexander Valentine chose an alternate route for his planned exit of the building, the one that would take him right through the middle of the crowd and straight to her.