Chapter Twenty

Vanessa

The tension was intense as Karen stalked towards me, her designer dress swishing with each imperious step. I braced myself, my smile a fragile shield against the storm brewing in my stomach.

Vanessa," she purred, her voice laced with an icy sweetness, "what brings you to this little gathering?"

I plastered on a smile, the effort a herculean task. "Just here for the gala, Karen. Diane invited me."

She raised an eyebrow, skepticism twisting her features. "So you are Diane's latest charity case, then?

Someone to make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Just like this whole fundraiser. Fancy people playing dress-up, just another way for Diane to pat herself on the back."

My jaw clenched. "That's a cruel thing to say, Karen. These events raise money and awareness," I countered, my voice tight. "And besides, I'm not a charity case."

A brittle laugh escaped her lips. "Oh, lighten up, Vanessa. Can't a girl have a little fun?"

But the glint in her eyes betrayed her words. This was no playful jab; it was a deliberate attempt to undermine both Diane and me.

"I don't think this is something to make fun of," I said with a stern voice.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa," she scoffed, throwing her head back in a laugh that lacked genuine humor. "Don't be naive. Those kids are going to die anyway. Survival of the fittest, that's the world we live in. Diane is just delaying the inevitable."

My anger flared, but I forced it down. Karen wasn't worth the energy.

"If that's your cynical outlook," I countered, "then at least let some of us try to make a difference. Giving up doesn't help anyone."

Karen seemed taken aback by my defiance. She opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned and sashayed away, leaving me feeling drained but strangely empowered.

Taking a deep breath, I scanned the room, seeking a distraction. My eyes landed on the stage where Paloma and Anna were captivating the audience. Paloma's voice soared, a powerful counterpoint to Anna's masterful piano playing. They were a captivating duo, their synergy reminiscent of Elton John and Bernie Taupin.

A smile tugged at my lips – a genuine one this time.

As I drifted through the throng, enjoying the music and the lively chatter, I clumsily collided with a skinny woman wearing a blue jean ensemble, she stood out from everyone. A gasp escaped my lips as a glass of champagne tipped precariously, spilling its golden contents onto his attire.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" I exclaimed, my cheeks burning with mortification. "I completely ruined your suit!"

The woman, however, remained surprisingly unfazed. She chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, dear. These things happen."

Relief washed over me, but I persisted. "No, I insist. Let me at least pay for the dry cleaning."

She regarded me with a curious smile. "Persistent, aren't we? Well, if you insist. By the way, what's your name, young lady?"

"Vanessa Spencer," I replied, extending a hand.

"Vanessa Spencer, eh? A lovely name for a lovely lady." She chuckled again. "I'm Erica Sloane, a TV writer and director. And speaking of lovely, you have the face of a character straight out of my latest show."

My cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and a flicker of hope. Could this be a genuine opportunity, a chance to break the dry spell in my acting career?

"Are you an actress by any chance, dear?" She inquired, her eyes twinkling.

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze. "Yes," I confessed, "a struggling one at that."

"Well, struggling no more," she declared, a wide grin stretching across her face. "The actress who snagged the lead role in my show just backed out for a role in a Christopher Nolan movie. Would you be interested in reading for the part?"

Months of rejections and dead ends flashed before my eyes. This was an unexpected lifeline, a chance I couldn't afford to miss. A surge of excitement coursed through me.

"Yes, absolutely!" I exclaimed, a genuine smile finally gracing my lips.

Erica's face lit up. "Excellent! I need to get back to my wife, but here's my card. Give me a call and we can set up an audition."

I watched her walk off, then slipped the card into my purse. The encounter left me reeling, a mixture of excitement and disbelief bubbling within me. Then, across the crowded room, my gaze met Liam's. He was looking at me, his face a mask of emotions I couldn't decipher. His eyes narrowed, and then, with determined strides, he began to make his way through the throng towards me.

Liam materialized beside me, his youthful smile as disarming as ever. "Hey, Vanessa," he greeted, his voice warm with surprise. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Well," I replied, trying to match his casual demeanor, "your mother invited me and insisted I come. So, here I am."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by genuine warmth. "I'm glad you are here. Seems like my mother has taken a shine to you, hasn't she?"

"I wouldn't say no to that," I admitted cautiously. "Though your wife has a different take. Apparently, I'm your mother's 'latest charity case.'"

A flicker of annoyance crossed Liam's features. "Karen said that?"

"Unfortunately, she did," I confirmed, watching him tense up.

"Don't listen to her," he said dismissively. "She and my mother… Well, they're just two very different people who don't exactly see eye to eye on many things."

"Sorry to hear that," I mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't worries about it," he brushed it off. "So, where's Richard hiding?"

"I haven't seen him yet," I confessed, feeling a flicker of unease. "Maybe he's running late."

His gaze drifted towards the stage, where Anna and Paloma were captivating the audience with their performance. "My sister's certainly having a blast with Paloma, " he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

"They seem to have hit it off right from the moment they met," I agreed, mirroring his smile.

Suddenly, the music shifted, Paloma's voice taking on a more playful, upbeat tone. "Alright everyone!" she called out into the microphone. "We're here for a good cause, helping the children of South Sudan, but let's loosen up a bit too! Time to dance our stress away! Stop standing, start shaking!"

A collective cheer erupted, and with a flourish, Anna transitioned into a lively, upbeat dance tune. People, previously stiff and self-conscious, began to loosen up, joining the couples already swaying on the makeshift dance floor.

Liam took a step closer, his eyes meeting mine with a playful glint. "May I have this dance?"

My heart hammered in my chest. Resisting him was always an internal battle, and with the music pulsing around us, my resolve was crumbling.

Taking a deep breath, I offered a hesitant smile. "Just one dance," I stipulated, placing my hand in his.

A playful wink lit up his face as he twirled me into a graceful spin. "Let's see where it goes," he whispered, his voice a warm caress against my ear.

Liam was an exceptional dancer, almost better than me and I have won some dancing competitions back in high-school. His movements, smooth and confident, mirroring mine with an uncanny precision. This was something Richard would never do, no matter how persuasive I am, when it comes to dancing, his answer is always no.

As we glided across the floor, lost in our own world, I couldn't help but feel a familiar spark ignite within me.

The song reached its inevitable conclusion, and the applause washed over us. Caught in the moment, we stood there, chests heaving, faces mere inches apart. An undeniable tension crackled in the air, and for a breathless moment, I was convinced we were about to cross a line, a kiss I would totally not reject.

Then, just as abruptly, he stepped back, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. The spell was broken. A clap on my shoulder ripped me fully from the trance.

"Vanessa!" Richard's voice, laced with suspicion, shattered the fragile bubble we'd created. He glared at Liam, then back at me, a dark cloud forming on his brow.