Chapter 181

NOLAN

Luna had been standing near the bar when she caught her son’s eye. She sauntered over to him with two flutes of champagne in hand, looking smug. She handed one glass to Nolan when she reached him.

“I take it you had something to do with this?” he asked.

Luna arched an eyebrow and shrugged slightly, as if to say, “Guilty.”

She raised her glass and Nolan followed suit. “Your wife is very creative,” she said. “She did most of this on her own. She wanted to surprise you.”

Nolan tapped his glass lightly against hers. “Mission accomplished.”

“To Yena,” Luna said, and they sipped their drinks in unison.

“Where is she, by the way?”

“Backstage.” Luna used her glass to point in that direction. “You’ll see her soon.”

The prince wiped his mouth with his hand, trying to conceal from his mother the excited smile that was trying to force its way out. His parents had trained him to not express emotions in public. But he was overwhelmed by this gesture.

Nolan had poured his heart and soul into opening the orphanage the year before he met Yena. It meant a lot that she would go to all this trouble for something that was so important to him.

The lights now faded to dimmer than dim, and the dreamy electronic music in the background grew quiet; an anonymous voice announced over a speaker system that the show would begin in five minutes.

Nolan’s mother led him to their seats, two chairs apart from the others, facing forward at the end of the runway. The rest of the audience likewise bustled into their chairs and then grew quiet.

The music got louder again. The colorful lights did a little dance across the empty stage and runway. Nolan eyed the crowd as he waited, sipping his champagne and growing anxious for the big reveal.

Finally the lights all swarmed to the center of the stage, forming one big spotlight.

The curtain moved beneath its glare, and then parted slightly.

And out came Yena.

YENA

The spotlight glare and the immediate roar of the crowd was all-consuming.

I had learned that this is the part where you pause, anyway. No need to rush right out onto the runway. I smiled, blinking to adjust my eyes to the lighting, waved to the crowd and gave them time to applaud.

When it started feeling like it would never end, I asked them to please quiet down and take their seats. It was an eerily powerful feeling – how quickly this huge room of wealthy and important people did exactly as I instructed them.

One of the slowest to sit was the biggest man in the room. My husband, looking extraordinary in his custom tuxedo, stood in shadow at the end of the runway, lingering just a second to catch my eye. I winked at him and got the satisfaction of seeing one of his rare, broad and beautiful smiles in return.

After a quick introduction to the auctioneer, who was standing just below the stage, I instructed the audience to retrieve numbered bid panels from the undersides of their chairs, gave them a few seconds to do so, and then launched right in.

It was funny, modeling as well as emceeing. I started out with describing the ensemble I was modeling myself: a silky, sea-green evening gown with white over-the-elbow satin gloves. Then I deposited my microphone into a mic stand and cued the auctioneer to get the bidding started, and did my turn on the runway.

Hushed whispers and camera flashes could be heard under the music and the loud, fast-talking auctioneer who called out higher and higher and higher numbers. He finally stopped and cried out, “SOLD!” when a lone audience member was left with an unmatched bid. She shrieked when she realized she had won.

I retrieved my microphone, then, and took up residence on the far side of the stage.

“That was exciting!” I found myself saying, shaking my head at the crowd. “Congratulations to our high bidder, who will be taking home the first look of the night!”

I waited out some applause, and then it was Lucy’s turn on stage. I felt more relaxed on the mic now that the focus was, primarily, on my collaborators and models.

Lucy was a showstopper in a purple bodycon gown with side slits up both legs. I only said a few words here and there; her performance and the live auction were thrilling, a show all on its own, and climaxed with a stomach-dropping high bid of seventy-five thousand dollars.

And then – just like she’d been telling Cindy – it was over fast. Lucy slipped backstage and were on to the next look.

Cindy appeared nervous still as she walked out onto the stage. But the crowd was pumped up and went wild for her too, and she began to glow with confidence as she soaked in the applause. Cindy was wearing a layered gown in shades of black and brown with gold embellishments and little glimpses of gold lining and lace tulle.

I told the audience, as she neared the runway, that this model was actually the director of the orphanage for which we were raising money. They roared with more applause and cheers. I couldn’t help myself – I added, too, that she actually also helped to save my husband’s life when he was attacked. Then everyone went really crazy.

Cindy’s dress was the big winner of the evening, selling for a neat hundred thousand dollars. Her face went pale when she heard the auctioneer calling out “SOLD!” and confirming the incredible number.

Finally, I had Lucy come back out and the three of us walked the runway together once, returning to center stage to take a bow.

Cindy leaned down to whisper in my ear before I could get back on the mic. “I’d like to say something.”

I was only a little surprised. I’d just watched her confidence growing before my eyes during the short show we’d just put on. I handed her the mic, mouthing “go for it!”

“Thank you,” she said into the mic, recoiling at the sound of her own voice in the speakers, but shaking it off quickly. “Thank you all so much for coming here and showing your support and especially to those who participated in the auction. Wow. I am just blown away by your generosity and can’t thank you enough for what this money is going to do for the children at our facility.”

She waited through applause. Then turning to me, she added, “And thank you Yena for all your hard work in setting this up, and designing and creating these beautiful gowns we’re wearing tonight.”

“It was my pleasure,” I answered. When more applause started, I shushed the crowd quickly. I didn’t want another standing ovation for myself. “Thank you again, everyone, for coming tonight. And a special thank you to my husband Nolan, who inspired this event.”

At this, the entire audience rose to their feet immediately, their applause reaching an uproar.

Nolan rose to stand briefly with a princely smile on his lips, his hand raised in humble thanks.

He met my eyes very quickly and shot me a mock-reprimanding look and small shake of his head on his way back down into his seat.

I told the crowd to please stay and enjoy the open bar and thanked them one last time. Then I retreated backstage with the girls, where we helped each other very carefully remove our suddenly very expensive clothes.

Nolan was waiting for me, quietly and patiently, on the other side of the curtain when I finally emerged from backstage, wearing a different dress I’d brought to change into.

“Hi!” I rushed over to him. “What’d you think?”

He did not respond in words. He threw his arms around me, lifted me off my feet, pressed his mouth to mine and began kissing me hungrily.

I was vaguely aware of a hush falling over the crowd and the feeling of being watched. Nolan had a bad habit of kissing me a little too intimately in public like this.

I guess, at least, we were giving the people something fun to talk about.