Chapter Ten
August 15th.
Today was Layla's 19th birthday, but for her, it was just another ordinary day, one that did not fill her with any joy or excitement. As usual, her father was not home to celebrate it with her. He had left for Venice or Vienna – she couldn't remember which – a couple of days before to check on the construction of his latest hotel and didn't plan to return until Wednesday.
And Yuri… Well, she had mostly been doing her best to avoid him outside of their professional responsibilities ever since Kaleido Stage's anniversary party. They needed to discuss what had happened – she knew that – but every time she considered bringing up the subject, she changed her mind, putting it off for another time.
"Happy birthday, Miss Layla!" Macquarie said when Layla awoke, holding out a beautifully wrapped gift box as she sat up in bed. "A present from you father. He asked me to give it to you as soon as you woke up."
"Oh… Thank you."
Layla took the large box and set it on her lap, reaching for the attached envelope. The message card inside simply read: Happy birthday, my darling Layla. She then lifted the lid off the box, unsurprised when she pulled out a beautiful teal-colored cocktail dress.
"How gorgeous!" Macquarie gushed, clapping her hands together. "Your father always has such great taste. You'll look stunning in it."
Layla sighed and folded the dress back in the box before setting it aside. Every year it was the same – a lavish party planned by her father that he never attended and a pretty dress to wear to it.
"Macquarie, did you remember to call the guests and tell them that the party is cancelled?" she asked, slipping on her silk robe as she climbed out of bed. She had learned long ago that her father actually bribed guests to attend her birthday parties. Seeing no value in spending her birthday with people only there out of paid obligation, she cancelled the party every year and spent the day as usual.
"Yes, miss, but, um, I have some news."
"Oh?" Taking a seat at the table where Macquarie had set down the breakfast tray, Layla raised an eyebrow. "What news?"
"Mr. Hamilton called this morning," Macquarie said. "He finished his business earlier than expected, so he booked an earlier flight and will be here later today."
Layla dropped the fork she had been holding, the utensil clattering against the plate. "Father's coming home?"
She didn't even remember the last time she saw her father on her birthday. Maybe the year she turned eight? She had vague memories of him taking her to the zoo, but if she remembered correctly, he got paged halfway through and they had needed to leave in order for him to close an important deal.
"He wants to take you out to dinner after your show tonight," Macquarie said.
"Is he coming to the show, too?"
"He didn't mention anything about that. He just said he would send the car for you around seven."
"Oh."
Layla was momentarily disappointed. Her father had yet to see one of her Kaleido Stage performances through to the end, but that was okay. The fact that he made time in his busy schedule to see her on her birthday was enough to satisfy her. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad, after all.
Walking back over to her bed, Layla reopened the box and pulled out the teal dress, holding it against her body as she admired her reflection in the mirror. "Well, at least I have a reason to wear my beautiful new dress today…."
Upon returning to his dressing room after the show and changing out of his costume, Yuri picked up the small wrapped box from his vanity and sighed.
He had bought Layla's birthday present – a bottle of perfume – a couple of weeks ago, but considering how awkward things had been between them ever since what had happened the night of the anniversary party, he questioned if he should still give it to her. After all, he didn't want her to get the wrong idea.
Then again, he had yet to talk to Layla about ending their arrangement. Mostly, he'd been avoiding her whenever they weren't on stage, and though he couldn't be positive, Yuri suspected she was doing the same to him, even having her chauffeur pick her up from Kaleido Stage so she wouldn't have a reason to ask him for a ride home like she usually did.
They couldn't keep on like this. So far, it wasn't affecting their performances – Layla was, as always, the consummate professional – but it was bound to cause issues sooner or later. He needed to end things once and for all.
Perhaps today wasn't the best time to do it, however. He knew Layla had never been one to care much about her birthday, always cancelling the party her father threw for her every year and treating it as just another ordinary day, but it was still crappy timing.
On the other hand, the longer Yuri waited, the more difficult it seemed to approach the subject. He should have talked to Layla the day after the party. Perhaps if he had, they would have been able to avoid the weirdness between them.
Yes, he was going to do it, birthday be damned. There was never going to be a perfect time to end things with Layla; he needed to stop waffling and do it. At least he might be able to soften the blow by giving her the gift first.
Decided, Yuri slipped the small box into the pocket of his black jacket and headed to Layla's dressing room down the hall.
"Coming!" she said when he knocked.
A few moments later, the door opened, Layla's eyes widening slightly when she saw him. "Oh, hello, Yuri…" Her hand clutched at the neckline of her silk robe, holding it closed. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Can I come in?" he asked.
After a short pause, Layla stepped aside, showing him in. "I don't have much time," she said, closing the door behind him. "If you're here for sex, I –"
"No, I wanted –" Yuri glanced over at her neatly made bed and frowned, noticing a pretty teal cocktail dress laying across the bedspread. "Do you have a date tonight?"
"My father's business trip was cut short, so he's taking me out to dinner for my birthday." Walking over to the bed, Layla picked up the dress, holding it up. "I was just about to change when you knocked."
Yuri released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, silently berating himself for being glad that she had plans with her father and not some other guy. What did it matter to him, anyway? He had already decided to end things with Layla
"You can get dressed if you want," he told her, pivoting back around to face the door and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I won't look." Though he had seen her naked plenty of times before, Yuri knew that he would lose all his resolve if he caught a glimpse of her in her so-called "birthday suit".
"Oh…okay."
It took pretty much all of Yuri's willpower to keep staring straight ahead at the door. He tried to take his mind off of what Layla was doing, but it was difficult to do when he could still hear the unzipping of zippers and the rustling of fabric. He never realized just how loud clothing could be! Closing his eyes for good measure, he forced himself to concentrate only on his breathing until Layla said it was okay to look again.
When he turned back around, he found Layla standing in front of him, her dress half-zipped and her long hair pulled over to one shoulder. "I couldn't zip it up all the way," she said. "Would you mind…?"
"Oh. Sure."
Yuri reached for the tiny pull tab and slowly tugged it upward, ignoring the traitorous part of him that wanted to do the exact opposite.
"Thanks." After tossing her hair back, Layla smoothed down the fabric of her dress and turned around to face him. "How do I look?"
"You look…" Several adjectives immediately sprung to mind – among them: beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, incredible – but Yuri decided to play it safe. "…nice. That dress suits you."
And it did. As much as he had loved the sexy black dress she had worn to the anniversary party, her new dress was much more Layla's usual style. Made of taffeta, it featured a ruched bodice with a modest sweetheart neckline and a knee-length A-line skirt that flared from her hips. A thin gold belt and matching high heels completed the look.
Layla smiled at the compliment. "It was a birthday gift from Father."
"Oh, speaking of birthday gifts…" Yuri reached into his pocket and pulled out his present. "Here. This is for you."
"You didn't have to get me anything," she said, accepting the gift. "May I open it?"
"Go ahead."
Layla took a seat at her vanity and tore off the metallic red wrapping paper, revealing the high-end perfume he had bought her. "Oh, thank you, Yuri." She spritzed some on her wrist, bringing it to her nose for a sniff. "It smells wonderful. Is that…jasmine?"
"Yeah. The scent reminded me of you," he admitted, immediately wishing he hadn't when he noticed a faint blush coloring Layla's cheeks in her reflection.
After spraying a little more of the perfume on her neck, she set the pretty bottle down on the vanity and reached for her hairbrush. "Yuri, about the other night…" she began only to be interrupted by another knock.
Yuri's eyes darted toward the door. "Your father?"
"I…don't know." Her brow furrowed, she rose from her seat. "If it is, he's early."
Well, at least he and Layla were both properly dressed this time... As there was nothing scandalous about visiting a co-star to deliver a birthday present, Yuri didn't bother to hide as Layla answered the door. She accepted a large bouquet of white roses from a stagehand whose name Yuri didn't recall and closed the door with her hip.
"Another birthday gift?" he asked as Layla read the accompanying placard.
"Yes, from Mr. Kenneth." She placed the expensive-looking arrangement on the coffee table in front of the couch. "He always sends me roses for my birthday."
Again, relief.
Yuri ran his hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. He was being ridiculous. He had no right to be jealous of imaginary admirers when he wasn't even willing to be Layla's real boyfriend.
"Look, Layla, we need to talk about what happened at the party," he said, rubbing at his forehead. "It's been fun, but I've been thinking –"
"Sorry, but could this wait until tomorrow, Yuri?" Layla asked, interrupting him as she sat back down at the vanity. "My father is going to be here soon, and I still need to do my make-up."
He really didn't want to put if off any longer, postponing the inevitable. The sooner he and Layla ended whatever there was between them, the sooner things could go back to the way they were – the way they frankly should have stayed if only he had listened to his brain and not his dick.
But perhaps her birthday was not the best time to break things off after all. Layla seemed thrilled that her father was home to celebrate with her for once. Yuri didn't want to ruin her good mood.
"Sure, I guess it can wait," he said with a shrug. "Enjoy your dinner, and happy birthday. I'll see you tomorrow."
As soon as Yuri closed the door behind him, Layla exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
She hadn't lied to him. Her father was scheduled to pick her up in less than fifteen minutes and she really did need to finish getting ready, but mainly, she had just wanted to stop Yuri from saying whatever it was he planned to say.
Although…why had she felt the need to stop him? After all, she had been about to say the same thing before they were interrupted by the delivery of Mr. Kenneth's roses. They both knew the arrangement wasn't working anymore, so it had been silly to keep things in limbo.
Maybe because you know you love him and don't want to give him up after all, a voice said in the back of her mind – the same voice that had taken up permanent residence the morning after the party and refused to keep quiet despite her best efforts to evict it.
Pushing Yuri out of her mind, Layla started putting on her make-up, managing to finish in record time. With only a couple of minutes to spare, she headed to the entrance of Kaleido Stage to wait for her father's car.
Almost everybody else had already left for the night, only a few scattered cars still parked in the parking lot. Yuri's was not among them. He had probably gone home soon after he left her dressing room.
Leaning against a nearby column, Layla rubbed her bare arms. Though it was summer, the breeze coming off the nearby ocean was cooler than she expected. She sighed, hoping her father wouldn't make her wait too long.
She didn't get her wish.
"Where is he? Macquarie did say seven, right?" she muttered to herself, checking the time on her phone.
Her father was only ten minutes late, but she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that he was going to stand her up again. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he backed out of plans he had made with her in order to deal with some business matter that could not wait.
She was about to call Macquarie to double check the time when finally a town car pulled up to the entrance. The driver, a sixty-something man who had worked for the Hamilton family for as long as Layla could remember, exited the car and tipped his hat to her.
"Good evening, Miss Layla, and happy birthday," he said. "I do apologize for my tardiness. Traffic was terrible."
"Oh, that's okay, Henry. I understand."
He opened the back door for her, Layla sliding into the empty backseat, unsurprised, but disappointed, that her father hadn't come. She let out a sigh. She should have known better than to get her hopes –
"Your father will meet you at the restaurant," Henry informed her after getting back into the car. "He said he has a surprise for you."
Layla arched an eyebrow. "A surprise?"
Her father spending time with her on her birthday was already enough of a surprise. She hadn't expected anything else. She wondered what it could be, but Henry insisted he didn't know anything more than that.
A short time later, she arrived at the restaurant. As it was one of her favorites, the maître d' knew her by name, greeting her as soon as stepped inside.
"Ah, good evening, Miss Hamilton. A pleasure to see you again. Your party is waiting for you. Come this way."
Layla followed him to a table in the center of the restaurant, stopping short when she noticed her father was not alone. Sitting next to him at the table was an attractive brunette who looked to be in her late thirties or maybe early forties. The woman was laughing at something her father had said, tucking a strand of her short hair behind her ear in a flirtatious fashion.
Was she the surprise Henry had mentioned?
"Layla!" Having spotted her arrival, her father stood up and kissed her on the cheek. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. You look beautiful. I knew that dress was perfect for you." Though he didn't say it aloud, Layla imagined him thinking, "…much better than that scrap of fabric you wore to the anniversary party."
She smiled, regaining some of her composure. "Thank you, Father. I'm glad you were able to make it home today. I know you must be busy." She sat down in the chair he pulled out for her and accepted a menu.
"Oh, I'd like you to meet Caroline Wagner," he said, sitting back down and introducing his dinner companion. "She's an up-and-coming director in Hollywood. Carrie, this is my daughter Layla."
Caroline offered her hand, a warm smile on her face. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you, Layla. Your father has told me so much about you. Happy birthday!"
Layla hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too, Ms. Wagner."
"Please, call me Carrie."
Layla's father reached for his menu. "Well, now that everybody is here, we should order. I was thinking the Beef Wellington sounded good."
"That does sound delicious, but so does the filet mignon. Or maybe the duck breasts with apricot chutney? I can't decide. Which would you recommend, Richard?"
Frowning, Layla hid her face as she pretended to study the menu. Was Caroline her father's date, or had he invited the director to join them in yet another attempt to convince her to leave Kaleido Stage and pursue a career in film? Either way, Layla didn't appreciate some woman she had never met attending what was supposed to be her special birthday dinner.
"Layla, have you decided what you want to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" her father asked when the waiter came to take their order, breaking Layla from her thoughts.
"Oh…" She glanced down at the menu and picked something at random, having mostly lost her appetite. "I'll have the Cornish hen with potatoes."
"Excellent choice," the waiter said, taking their menus. "I'll return with your meal as soon as it is ready."
Once he had left, Caroline turned her attention to Layla. "So, Layla, I hear you are the current headliner at Kaleido Stage?"
"Yes, with my partner, Yuri Killian."
"I attended a Kaleido Stage show a few years back. I'm always amazed at the stunts you acrobats can pull off without the special effects we use in the movie business. It's so thrilling!"
"Yes, Layla is very talented," her father said. "In fact, she might just be the perfect actress to play the lead in your next action movie, Carrie."
Inwardly, Layla sighed. So it was another movie offer after all. A part of her was relieved that Caroline wasn't her father's girlfriend, but it still bothered her that her father wouldn't stop trying to push her into a movie career even on her birthday. Not that she could ever tell him that… Even at nineteen years old, she still wanted to please him.
"I'm sure she's great, Richard, but you know I was hoping to cast a more experienced actress in that role," Caroline said, surprising Layla. "It's difficult enough trying to make a name for myself as a female director in Hollywood without relying on untested talent. This movie could be my big break, and the studio will expect a lead with proven star power."
"I know, but you're a fantastic director, and soon everybody will realize that, honey," he said, kissing the back of Caroline's hand.
Layla set down the glass of water she had been drinking, feeling as if she had been punched in the gut. "Are you two…dating?" she asked.
Releasing Caroline's hand, her father cleared his throat. "Ah, yes… We have been seeing each other for a while now. How long has it been?"
"Eight months," Caroline replied. "Remember, we met at the New Year's party thrown by the Silvermans?"
"Oh, right, right. That was definitely a night to remember, wasn't it?"
Perhaps to him, but for Layla, it was a night she would much rather forget. It was during that party she had fooled around with Mateo, the handsome cater waiter. She didn't recall seeing Caroline there, though. Her father must have met her after she and Mateo snuck off to the Silvermans's pool house to hook up shortly before midnight.
Underneath the table, Layla's hands balled into fists in her lap, although she kept her face as neutral as possible. "Why didn't you tell me you were dating someone, Father?"
"I wanted to, but I thought it best to wait until our relationship was more serious before introducing you. Besides, we are seldom even in the same country. Carrie has been filming her latest movie on location in the Czech Republic for the past four months."
"It's a beautiful country," Caroline said. "Have you ever been, Layla?"
"No."
"I wish I could show you some pictures, but I don't have my phone on me at the moment. I'll have to show you later."
"Yes, maybe some other time," Layla said, standing up. "Excuse me, but I need to powder my nose."
Without giving Caroline the chance to join her, Layla headed to the ladies' room, relieved to find it empty. As she stood in front of the vanity mirror, she brought her hand to her mouth and choked back a sob.
She didn't understand why she was so upset about her father having a girlfriend. Her mother had died a long time ago; it was about time he moved on. It wasn't as if she expected him to remain in mourning for the rest of his life. And Caroline seemed perfectly nice. Had they met under different circumstances, Layla probably would have admired her as a hard-working, driven woman much like herself, yet…
Layla shook her head, dabbing away the few tears that had managed to roll down her cheeks with a tissue. After her mother's death, she had promised herself that she would never cry again, and she certainly had no intention of breaking down in the middle of the ladies' restroom. She took in a deep breath to calm herself down, then touched up her make-up before returning to the table.
Somehow, Layla managed to get through the rest of dinner with her father and his new girlfriend without betraying her emotions. She just pretended Caroline was another director her father wanted her to meet, making a point to ignore any flirtation or signs of affection between them. The delusion worked until it was time to leave and her father revealed that he planned to spend the night at the penthouse apartment instead of coming home with her.
"Oh, of course," Layla said softly. Caroline had just come back to the States after spending the past four months filming in Europe; it made sense that they would want to spend some time alone together.
"It was lovely to finally meet you, Layla," Caroline said as the town car pulled up in front of the restaurant. "We should get together sometime, just us girls, and get to know each other better. We could make a day of it."
Nothing sounded less appealing to Layla, but she smiled, not wanting to upset her father by being rude. "Maybe, but Kaleido Stage keeps me very busy. I don't have much free time."
Caroline chuckled. "You are very much your father's daughter in that regard."
Her father stepped forward, kissing Layla on the cheek as Henry got out of the car to open the back door. "Good night, sweetheart," he said. "I'll see you later."
"Good night, Father…Ms. Wagner." The one act of rebellion she allowed herself was refusing to call his girlfriend by her nickname, despite Caroline's repeated insistence throughout the night to call her Carrie.
She finally seemed to have given up on that, though, linking her arm with his and waving good-bye as Layla slid into the backseat. Layla didn't bother waving back, staring straight ahead as she told Henry to take her home.
Despite her best intentions, however, she couldn't resist taking one last look back at the couple as the car pulled away. A valet had brought a red Mustang Layla didn't recognize to the front of the restaurant, her father and Caroline sharing a tender kiss before they got into the car. A dull ache pained Layla's heart at the sight, and she quickly whipped her head back around, her fingers digging into the skirt of her teal dress.
Macquarie was waiting for her when she arrived back at the estate. "Welcome home, Miss Layla," the maid greeted her, bowing respectfully before looking behind her. "Is Mr. Hamilton not with you?"
"He's spending the night at the penthouse."
"Ah, I see. Well, at least he made it back to town in time for your birthday dinner. Did you have a nice time?"
"I don't really want to talk about it, Macquarie," Layla said as she started up the staircase, hating the way her voice slightly wavered. "It's been a long day. I'm tired, so I'm going to bed."
"Oh, okay. Good night, Miss Layla."
When she made it up to her bedroom, Layla sat down on the edge of her bed and reached for the picture frame propped up on the nightstand. The picture inside was the only personal photograph she displayed in her room. It had been taken a few months before her mother's death, when she and her parents had attended a Kaleido Stage production of Alice in Wonderland.
Normally, the photo made Layla smile, reminding her of the wonderful memories of that day, but her eyes misted over as she stared down at the image of her beautiful mother.
"I should be happy for him, shouldn't I?" she asked aloud, her finger brushing over the glass. "I know it's silly to be upset, and I know you wouldn't mind Father dating again, but I…" A tear rolled down her cheek. "I just can't, Mother."
Layla laid back on the bed, placing the photograph facedown on the mattress beside her. More tears flowed, yet she made no attempt to stop them that time, no longer caring about keeping her vow. Sobs wracked through her body as she curled on her side into the fetal position.
Seeing her father with Caroline felt almost like losing her mother all over again, undeniable proof that she was gone and never coming back again. Layla, of course, already knew that, yet…
She sat back up, wiping her tears away with her hands. There were three more hours before her birthday officially ended, and she refused to spend it crying over her father.
After grabbing a nightgown from her dresser, Layla headed to her en-suite bathroom and looked in the mirror above the sink. Her once beautifully made-up face was a fright, marred by runny mascara and smudged lipstick. She wiped off the ruined cosmetics and ran a brush through her tangled hair. She then stripped out of her new party dress and changed into her nightclothes.
She intended to just go to bed and forget what a miserable day it had been, but sleep did not come easily. After tossing and turning for about forty minutes, Layla reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone.
It's almost ten o'clock, she thought, glancing at the time on the display. He might already be asleep. I shouldn't disturb him this late…
Yet, against her better judgement, she hit the speed dial and brought the phone up to her ear.
DISCLAIMER: "Kaleido Star" doesn't belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's getting close to the end – only two more chapters! Again, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, but I promise this fic will not be abandoned.
Feel free to follow me on Tumblr. My username is kaleidodreams.