Pride and Hate with Benefits [COMPLETED]

Chapter 38 - Motivation for hard work

Ellie

He's too pleasant. When I first saw him, I thought there was fire in his eyes. And when we danced, I could have sworn I saw something deeper in them. Something I would really like to imagine was love.

But he's pleasant. Like there are no emotions. And I don't know what to do with that. If he still loved me, if he cared for me, wouldn't he be angry, or happy, or something?

I run my wrists under cold water and study my face in the mirror.

"I thought I saw something last Christmas."

My eyes flicker to Ava, who just walked in the door.

"What?"

"And now, I think I was right." She winks at me and goes into one of the stalls.

I turn off the faucet. Last Christmas? What is she talking about? Does she mean the conversation in the kitchen? When she thought D was in love with me?

She had been right. Even if I hadn't known it at the time. He had been in love with me. But that doesn't mean he's still in love with me. I slowly dry my hands. Unless she's seeing something I'm not.

She comes out of the stall and washes her hands.

"Don't look so worried," Ava says. "I can tell he likes you."

"I'm not so sure he does. I think I hurt him. Badly."

She dries her hands and studies me. "If you did, I don't think it's unforgivable. I see the way he looks at you. And I know my son."

"I should get back out there."

"Right. I think it's time to announce the winners of the auction. I have a bid down on the trip to Paris. It's been a while since I've been."

We make our way back to the ballroom just as a man is walking up to the podium. Ava hurries to her seat. I glance over at D. He's talking and smiling at his grandmother, but I can tell he's a bit more fidgety than usual.

I walk up to our table, only to find my seat occupied by a man in a slightly crooked toupee. He's deep in conversation with Charlie, so I hang back just as the announcer is calling for everyone's attention.

"Ellie," D says when he sees me standing. One look at my seat and he stands up. "Please, have my chair." He gestures.

I want to turn him down, because I don't know what it means. But people are watching and the man at the podium has started reciting something off his list. So I let him help me with the chair and place my clutch on the table next to his empty dessert plate.

Gia pats my knee before turning back to the stage. D stands behind us with one hand on his chair. My chair. I could lean back and feel it against my skin. If I turn, I could rest my cheek against his arm.

One after the other, the winners are announced and cheered. Some items seem to have been more popular than the others and elicit sighs of disappointment from those that did not win. The item that drew the highest bid of the evening was the sessions to get a portrait made. Apparently, the artist is very sought after and only does a few portraits a year.

When all items have been announced, the room is buzzing. But the announcer raises a hand to get everyone settled.

"We all know that one item is missing from the list this year. I don't know about you, but every year, one of my favorite moments of the Valentine's ball was our own love story. And yes, I think we can claim this story as our own. After all, it started right here. At the first Valentine's ball, when Gia bid for a dance with her Tommy. Sadly, Tommy Donovan is no longer with us. But every single year since they met, they danced the last dance at this very ball."

The room is quiet. I glance over at Gia and see a tear in her eye.

"This is the first year that Tommy and Gia will not be dancing us into the night." He pauses and straightens. "The idea was proposed that in honor of Tommy, we would play the last song to an empty dance floor. But this is an auction, after all. And even though it was not an official item on our list. We are happy to announce that a considerable sum of money has been offered for the last dance."

For a heartbeat, the room is dead silence. Then the whispers start. Who would do something like that? How could someone be so thoughtless? What is this all about? This is dishonoring Tommy and Gia.

I listen. Then the announcer speaks. And D moves.

"So, here for the last dance tonight, we have Dylan Darcy and Gia Donovan."

D holds out a hand to his grandmother, who looks up at him, astonished.

"Dylan?"

"May I have this dance?" He smiles down at her and the music starts.

The room is holding its breath. Everyone is speechless.

Gia is thrilled. Her face is a beacon as she beams at her grandson. She takes his hand and stands up. He leads her onto the dance floor and as they take their first steps, spontaneous applause break out, almost overpowering the music.

"Did you know about this?" Patrick asks his wife and there's irritation in his voice.

Ava is wiping a tear from her eye. "No. I had no idea."

Patrick harrumphs. "I thought we convinced that boy that dancing is nothing but a waste of time."

"No, Patrick, that was all you. Luckily, we raised a son who uses his heart."

I can't tear my eyes from the lone couple dancing. D makes a few missteps, but Gia is an excellent dancer and quickly rectifies the situation and I know that every time we danced, this was the end goal. This was why he was there every Saturday. The look on her face when he asked her to dance was all the motivation he needed.

When the dance is over, they return to the table and D helps Gia sit back down.

"Now you have to dance with me," Mia pouts. "We would make such a beautiful couple on the floor."

"I've already danced with the two most beautiful women in the room," D says. "I think that's enough for me."

I inhale and look up at him, but he's focused on Gia.

"Ellie?" Charlie is next to me. "Ellie, we have to go. Something's happened." There's worry on her face, and I automatically stand and follow her out of the room.