Lavender Haze

Chapter 21

There is a fundraiser party for Mount Sinai, organized by the Carlisles and hosted at the St. James hotel, intended to raise money for the charity that gave Rives his lovely, crooked nose. I receive an invite for it, which extend to Wes, as the idea of navigating a party surrounded by River's people alone terrifies me, but he only finds out a day before that event that today is an all-hands-on-deck situation and therefore he's required to work for the fundraiser. I was going to ask Rafael to come with me, if only to avoid having to spend the night talking to a potted fern, but reconsidered. I know Raf, and he would totally freak out if he met anyone remotely famous.

Because I'm a little stupid and a lot self-destructive, I think about putting on the lavender dress (thought that I promptly snuff two minutes after conceiving it), but thankfully, like Teo reminded me, I definitely gained a couple of pounds in the last few years, and I'd need a team of five to zip up the lavender dress and a portable mini oxygen tank in my clutch to survive the night. So that dress is out of the question. Not like that's the only reason why. I could put up with being squeezed in the silky fabric for five hours if the reward was worth it. I could deprive myself of precious oxygen for the length of the party if anything good would come out of it. But what would that be? If River remembered who I am now – things would change, and probably not for the best. I'm not willing to risk that. Our relationship is not ideal, not by a long shot. I have feelings for an engaged man. A man who so easily erased me from his memory already once. I have no hopes once the wedding is over he'll remember me. That idea brings physical pain to my stomach, busy coiling around itself. What the hell am I going to do with my complicated, misplaced feelings when our contract ends? How am I going to deliver River to the altar to another woman and not break?

The thought is unbearable, so I put it in the back burner until I'm strong enough to deal with it (which will be two-thousand-and-never at this rate).

I can do this, I tell myself.

Or at least, I can pretend I can.

After collecting my dry cleaning, I head to my neighbourhood hair salon to touch-up my roots and refresh my dye, then get a blow-dry before heading to a nail salon and getting a manicure. Even though no one is going to care what I look like tonight, I still have to look presentable. I can't attend a party at the St. James hotel and look like a hobo. It would probably hurt Mila and River's image if I did.

Once I'm done with my pampering and dolling-up, I hike back home and start getting ready.

The dress I picked for tonight can be described with one word: unassuming. It's a simple V-neck, spaghetti straps, sweep train black dress. I bought it last year and never found an excuse to wear it until now, and I'm glad it still fits as it should, even allowing me to breathe. It will impress nobody, and, more importantly, it won't jump-start any unwanted memories (if that was ever the case with the lavender dress).

When it comes to my makeup, I look for a tutorial on YouTube for a smoky eye that I fail to achieve three times before giving up. I settle for a light dusting of an eyeshadow called cinnamon swirl, add a cat eye, mascara and my usual Fascinating Ruby, my longest-standing relationship to date. I'm ready way too early in the day, so I end up pacing around the house in my kimono, with my blow-out and my face fully made-up, for forty-five minutes, dusting and listlessly cleaning the house, chasing after Kat and bribing her with her favourite duck treats to get her to spend twenty seconds with me.

When it's nearly time to leave, I stop staring at Kat sleeping like the worst stalker in the world and pull on my dress. I struggle with the side zipper, cursing at the maker of the dress for five minutes straight when it gets stuck and won't comply all the way up, my finger slick with sweat. Eventually, after I've wrapped my clammy hand in a dish towel I manage to zip myself up. I exhale in relief. It would have not been the first time I'd have to knock on my neighbour's door to help me with a zipper, but a third time would have been humiliating, so I'm glad for this small victory.