-CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-


BEAUTY OF THE BALL


Saturday 21st November 2009, continued

ANASTASIA

"KATE, WHERE ARE WE GOING NOW?" I whined for the fiftieth time today, "you've spoiled me with a dress and shoes. What else could I possibly need?"grasping my neck, I rolled it around easing some tension after an intense few hours of shopping, "Kaaaate I need to sit down." I groused through utter exhaustion.

"Oh Annie," twirling her fingers in my hand, "don't forget your masque too," Kate smiled greedily clutching our hands together.

Thanking God with my pressed hands together, the distraction was well needed. My cell vibrated, as the foraging began , it was already too late.

Call ended

Staring at the screen, whispering, "It's him again!" Disappointed as it would have been nice to hear his voice.

"Don't go there girl!" Kate waved her finger back and forth across my face.

"But–"

"No Ana, he can wait. Right now you need to relax." She placed a hand on my stomach, "I'm sure you will see him soon enough, so please just make today about you!" Of course not about you either Kate, upset with her suggestion pushing her hand away.

I needed to contact him. Opening up my messages, I started to draft words to Christian. Kate was confident that no connection was made as she yanked the cell from my fingers I was shocked by her actions, "Hey give it back!" I held out my hand, demanding my property back.

"No!" Kate shook her head, "There is no way in hell, you're getting this," she gripped my cell, "until we leave tonight. End of conversation!" She snapped.

"Uhh… whatever!" Rolling my eyes and of course being mature about it I stuck my tongue out for good measure.

We walked for another few minutes in silence, suddenly stopping in front of a large window to what I assumed is a fancy kind of hairdresser place. In a large contemporary font, the bold white letters hit my face. ESCLAVA.

"Oh Annie, doesn't this spa look gorgeous!" She fisted her hands straight to her mouth.

The appeal of beauty is minimal. Not once have I ever been interested in a day spa, hell I've hardly been to a hair salon.

"Do you realize esclava is Spanish for slave? Using slavery isn't really the best marketing option. It's never worked for this continent, so why the heck does the owner believe this would be wonderful for a beauty business?" baffled by how the beauty industry works.

"What?" The Kavanagh thought process began working over-drive, "oh Ana Smanna, as long as I'm pruned and groomed who the fuck cares? And I've chosen. These bitches can slave for you… tah dah," she flicked out her hands like she was showcasing Esclava in a game show.

How could I not roll my eyes and slap my forehead, "Kate!"

Oh God! Shoot me now!

"Kate, for one I can do my own makeup and I'll brush my hair out. It's completely fine," she shook her head in defiance.

"Nope," she murmured as she popped the p, "no fucking way. I want you to lap it up. Who knows you may never get the opportunity again… well possibly for sometime," her eyes went straight to my belly.

"Come on! Oh please Kate," whipping my head back groaning.

Pushing Kate's shoulder with considerable force I continued, "I maybe pregnant but that doesn't stop the world from spinning," I couldn't help but cross my arms and tap my foot. "Oh for fuck sake" I huffed under my breath walking toward the entry.

…..

THE VERY MOMENT I STEPPED inside the salon the anger from minutes before were lifted from my shoulders. Everything was calm from the soothing tones of the walls, the scent of the incense, tranquil music and the soft-spoken words from the staff.

Kate insisted I have any treatment I wished, multiple if I liked.

Speaking of staff, I started to stare… I mean gaped while my eyes and tongue were hanging from my face. The receptionist was divine, honestly to die for. Tall, dark and handsome. Did I mention he was Brazilian?

"Can he do my treatments Kate?" I pointed to the gentleman with the name badge Augusto.

Both Kate and I were a giggling mess.

What am I a horny slut? Have I turned into a puddle of female hormones?

"Pamper time!" Kate squealed.

Sugaring was the perfect option since the young Brazilian suggested it, adding a simple facial and foot massage for good measure. The idea being spoiled was giving me goosebumps, I guess a little splurge was going to become a reality.

"Don't forget, you're getting the works hair and makeup too, remember let these bitches slave for you honey!" Kate laughed.

…..

TIME DRIFTED BY, and I truly felt like a pampered princess. Mocktail in one hand and canapés in the other. I was relaxed and beyond stress-free, ultimately floating on cloud nine.

"Oh my God, Kate, please explain to me why I haven't done this sooner," I lifted the cucumber from my eye, staring towards the green mud covered Kate.

"Oh I wouldn't know," she mumbled popping some smoked salmon into her mouth.

The sound of three claps woke me from my slumber.

"Ok girls now just as we are finishing up the facials, you are all pruned and tidy," I couldn't help but sigh, oh Augusto why do you need to ruin my fun.

I have enjoyed every moment including being sugared. Who would have thought the pain of having hair ripped from your dermis between your legs would send someone to sleep.

"We have two lovely ladies, arranged for your hair and makeup for this evening's affair," Augusto rolled his words, waving his hands about.

"Thank you Augusto," we said in unison.

I can't believe I'm lusting over a gay Brazilian.

As the redhead aesthetician was removing the hot towel from my face, my eyes weren't completely focused.

"Kate, best decision EVER!" I groaned in euphoria.

"Ok Ladies who wants myself Brooke and who wants the lovely Elena."

I blinked and there in front of me was the very… Mrs Lincoln.

What. The. Fuck!

"I think Ana would love for me to complete her look," Elena purred.

"Oh for fuck sake," I rolled my eyes and my hands automatically went to my bloated bump.

"Ana?" Kate uttered confused.

"Kate Kavanagh, would you like to meet Mrs Elena Lincoln."

"As in the grandmother" she mouthed discreetly in my direction.

"Yes the very one," I nodded.

"Fuck," we breathed in unison.

I sat slightly reclined in the chair facing the mirror. Glaring at her reflection I was waiting for the first move and it wasn't going to be me.

"Anastasia," she purred my name, "that is your name. Am I correct?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

A comb tugged my hair with brutal force, but I refused to show this woman any satisfaction with the pain she was causing.

"I see you have injured your arm." Her lips perked.

"Wrist in fact," I curtly replied.

"Hmmm and so how did that happen?"

She continued to comb my hair and blow dry. I sat there in silence. As the minutes ticked by she continued to straighten my hair.

"Anastasia I need to work with something here. You're making it extremely challenging."

Well that's the point.

"I can't style your hair and complete your look without seeing the dress or masque."

Rolling my eyes I lifted my index finger implying give me a second.

"Kate, cell now," I snapped.

"Moody bitch," she shoved the cell in my hand and I couldn't help to stick my tongue out as she giggled.

Flicking through Kate's images I saw some photos of Elliot in some rather compromising positions which I can only hope I can erase from my memory ASAP. Hundreds of photo's later I found "the dress."

Honestly I've never seen myself as a pretty girly girl. Looking at the single photo of me trying on this simple white dress made me feel downright beautiful.

"Oh lovely. It looks very…" she began to wave her fingers trying to think of the exact word, "aah, bridal. Don't you agree Brooke," Lincoln turned to Kate's stylist.

"Oh yes, quite beautiful! Oh Anastasia you're glowing. Just imagine how you would look on your wedding day," my cheeks warmed.

I never thought of it as bridal gown and most definitely marriage hasn't crossed my mind.

"Could I have that back please," Kate hissed yanking her cell back into her hands.

"Anastasia, I have the perfect look…"

Elena made work on my hair and soon enough my blank canvas face. I couldn't believe how civil she was being through the whole situation. She is either downright mentally unstable and has remembered to take her daily psychotic meds or the world's best award winning actress.

I'm hoping the latter.

"Mrs Lincoln. This is a change of pace, you're being very gracious compared to last night," hooking my brow.

"Oh sweetie, I'm at work. This is my work place," she over emphasized my, of course trying to belittle me, "I own this business. Don't worry I plan this, your hair and makeup. Kate's mother and friends are regular clients at Esclava, I thought it would be nice to see the face to the name I always hear about."

Elena's actions could hardly construed as an apology. I didn't care for her mediocre chitchat, it was beginning to wear me thin.

Placing all my cards on the table, "I will be frank. Last night was a horrible experience."

"I was a little vile. I won't deny that. Sometimes I can't help myself, especially with my grandson involved. I want the best for him. It's difficult with our pasts, especially my own and his mother's, I don't want it to happen to him too." My eyes popped listening to this tripe.

"You can't help yourself," I firmly stated, "are you oblivious to the fact your grandson hates you. I'm sorry to state the fact, but you aren't high on my likeable list either," spitting my final words.

"Oh I thought by the state of your, wrist… Christian would be on your list too," Elena glared at me, while pursing her lips.

Fuming by her accusations, I quickly stood up, possibly a little too quick as my head began to spin. Steadying myself, turning to the witch I pulled out my hand to slap her only she was too quick, dodging my swing.

"Come here, you bitch," I hissed.

"Anastasia calm down. You have everything blown out of proportion," she tried to sit me back down, but I bluntly refused.

"Blown out of proportion! What on God's damn earth are you talking about?" my voice rose over the tranquil soundtrack in the background.

"Just sit down, please take it easy. I don't want to upset you. Not today. Not in your condition!"

I could see Kate sitting back not intervening or even helping but rather recording our conversation on her cell.

"Condition!" I huffed, "There is no way I'm going to calm down. You're insane!"

Thinking quick, I selected the curling wand from the choice of hair implements as a weapon.

Seeing Kate shake her head "no," I realized what the hell I was doing. I don't need to get a record or even jail time assaulting this abusive woman. As quickly as I picked it up, I dropped it back on the tray.

I could feel my stomach roil with heat washing over me.

Pointing my finger to her face I yelled, "your grandson was trying to get to know you, but you just walked all over him…"

It all happened in slow motion. My heel hooked the footrest of the chair and I fell onto my hip finally landing on my back.

"Fuck Ana," Kate ran to my aid trying to help me up.

"I'm not an invalid. Kate I'm fine," a little shaken but fine.

"Oh my. Anastasia, I'm extremely sorry. I think you should get checked out, by a professional. I can organize my driver to take you to the hospital," her complexion turning a horrible death gray.

My hand rose towards her face, declining her request.

"I'm fine, well other than my ego," I couldn't help my voice was a little uneasy.

"Anastasia, I insist you get yourself checked over. It was never my intention to hurt you. Are you sure everything is ok?" I knew what she was implying, but I felt fine.

"The treatments and styling are on the house," I could see Kate in the corner of my eye sulking, for the love of God! "Oh and Miss Kavanagh you're included in this gesture," and quickly enough her face was showing her whitened teeth.

"Kate," I groaned and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not a charity case Mrs Lincoln. We can pay."

Word vomit is never a wise choice without a filter. Why don't I think through these, before I speak. I'm bewildered the cost of these treatments, I've never even had a wax before. Kate was gifting the whole experience to me, but I would never expect her to pay in full.

Shit. What if they are hundreds of dollars. I don't have that kind of money. A single hundred is a lot.

Fuck Fuck Fuckety Fuck!

"Anastasia, I would never see you as a charity case. I want to give them to you as compensation. I deeply apologize for what has occurred," I'm not sure if she's referring to my fall or last night, "I never wanted to hurt you." laughing under my breath.

"I'm trying to be sincere Anastasia. Honestly I was being extremely hard on Christian last night. I thought if I pushed him that little more, he may come to me, rather than you… "

"And you're serious?" I swear, "Jesus, you're jealous. Of me!" Each statement my voice grew. "Mrs Lincoln. To be clear–"

"Please, it's Elena."

I shook my head, "Mrs Lincoln. With all due respect, of the little veneration I have for you. You are a grown woman. A mother, grandmother and soon to be a great-grandmother—"

By this stage a crowd had formed around our private treatment room. Staff and fellow clients were beginning to gasp and gossip.

"Grandmother, no way."

"She can't be a Great-Grandmother she isn't even 45, is she?"

"No she's only 40!"

Mrs Lincoln clicked her fingers and yelled, "Staff out, NOW!" and they scurried away like insects.

I didn't care what was happening around us and calmly continued with my onslaught.

"Your relationship has only been open briefly, yet for years you were hiding in the shadows to his life. Were you undercover, prowling? If you think, pushing someone with verbal hate, fucking abuse is the right option to gain his attention. You're abusing your grandchild, you are an important link to him…" I was shaking with anger, as my eyes began to burn, "Oh my God Mrs Lincoln, you need to understand. I'm important to him and by doing this you are not only pushing him away from you, but you are pushing me away also," I covered my stomach, "Mrs Lincoln you have no idea how to love. Your notion of the whole sentiment is completed fucked."

I needed a breather. This is too intense.

Oh my God I am important to him. I do love him.

The slow lone clap of applause from Kate didn't ease the tension within the room.

"Kill it Kate," I hissed, which she stopped immediately. Frankly I didn't need to deal with her antics too.

All this time my eyes were clouded, closed as I refused to see it in plain sight. The waves of nausea belted my gut as the memory surfaced from last night. The woman, the blonde woman watched Christian and I in bed.

Fuck!

"Oh my God it was you watching us," I covered my mouth as another wave of disgust swelled through my stomach, "It wasn't my imagination, was it?"

Mrs Lincoln's head dropped as her eyes and mouth sunk, she was completely devastated.

"Ana it was an accident, honest," her words scurried out, unconfidently flat, "I didn't mean for it to happen. Please I'm sorry, tell him I'm sorry," her egotistic power was gone.

Her apology meant nothing. The remaining time we had at Esclava was incredibly mute. To most the silence would have been tranquil but the air was thick with hostility.

…..

"ANASTASIA ROSE STEELE, you are a sight for sore eyes," Kate gushed as I admired the beautiful woman in the reflection.

How can this be me?

As the door knocked, Kate rushed to open it, rather I continued to stare at the stranger in front of me.

"Can I come in? I don't care if you're naked Kate," the familiar voice chuckled.

"We're decent Ell," Kate sung out loud.

"Holy fucking shit balls Batman. Ana… well what can I say, you're smoking with a capital H.O.T!" Kate slapped her arm into her boyfriend's chest.

"Mr Grey if you want any action later on, you better rephrase that sentence," She huffed. Green is never a good color for Kate, as she rested both hands of each hip.

It was quite humorous watching Elliot become a robot. Without a thought he rephrased his words to please his girlfriend.

It's true, Elliot's balls officially belong in Kate's purse.

"Kate, you are foxy smoking hot, totally fuckable in this dress," His hand slid down her back, but Kate's brows rose awaiting for more affection, "and I love you," Elliot hesitated with a strained smile.

"That's more like it, hunk-o-spunk," she giggled.

I knew it was impolite as I continued to stare at my reflection. Is this really me? I've never been so dressed up, ever. I've never been to prom or any formal gathering to think of it. I'm glad my wrist is feeling tender but fine at most. The bandage can remain off for the next few hours.

Admiring my dress I couldn't help but groan as it does look bridal. I can't believe that woman was right.

"Now ladies slide on your masques. It's time to rock and roll. With no further ado, I shall escort you both to this evening's magnificent Ball," Elliot spoke in a southern accent. He bobbed his head enjoying every single moment of his role play.

With no questions asked Kate and I each hooked an arm on either side of Elliot, making our way to the annual Coping Together Ball.

…..

AS THE NIGHT PROGRESSED I was introduced to Elliot's grandparents Mr and Mrs Trevelyan.

"Ok, Banan–" I elbowed him sternly in the ribs, "Ana," catching his breath, "this is Grandfather Theodore and Grandmother Evie Trevelyan."

Mr Trevelyan shook my hand, complemented my dress and excused himself. Mrs Trevelyan was the opposite and refused to leave my sight. Sitting at one of the many highly decorated tables we made light conversation.

"Please don't call me Evie. I dislike and T knows it!" She grabbed her drink, which was clear like water. "Oh come on darl, if you are anything like my eldest grandson you can drink me under the table. Have a gin with me," Grandma Trevelyan slurred holding her glass into the twinkling lights.

"Call me Evelyn," she nodded, "Evelyn Trevelyan."

I laughed so hard I thought I was going to wet my underwear, sweet baby Jesus her name rhymed.

"Ah that's better, you were so stiff. I almost thought you were a wooden plank they forgot to nail in the floor," my cheeks immediately went red.

Do I really seem nervous? I thought the latter, as I have enjoyed the evening. But this humor where does it all come from? I think we are getting on quite nicely.

"Still no drink, I can't have this. Drink doll," she clicked her fingers and continued to hold her arms up high trying to grab the attention of a waiter.

Immediately pulling them down, "Oh no, I'm not drinking."

"What? Tonight or ever?" Her eyes became hooded, studying me closely. I'm sure trying to decipher my thoughts.

I hadn't thought the 'not drinking' through at such an alcohol based event.

"I'm just taking a few months off from drinking, you know… College has killed my liver," weakly chuckling, trying my best to hide any visual embarrassment.

"Ana, you do look quite lovely tonight. The gown of a bride, hell," she marked the cross over her chest, "Look at me I'm wearing the hideous grandmother outfit," Evie pointed to the two large red roses, each accentuated by shoulder pads, which she grimaced.

I smiled and gave a little giggle.

She's such a hoot!

"Now why is there no gorgeous gentleman hanging from your arm this evening?" she patted my thigh.

"Oh as always, it's complicated." I sighed.

I really do wish Christian were here. I just want to talk, get things out in the open.

"My grandson Christian is a catch," I tensed, of course Evelyn noticed, "but I swear you're out of luck, because he's homosexual. Oh unless you're transgender and haven't quite discovered you–" My mouth popped opened from her honest reflection. "I'm rambling rubbish aren't I? Sorry Ana, it happens sometimes, my mind likes to play– Oh my, is that my daughter?" She waved to Grace. Of course she was looking angelic, "Yes it is. Gracie, come here," Evelyn whistle to her daughter.

"Mother, I see you have met Anastasia," Grace rubbed my shoulder.

"Who?" Evie replied.

"This lovely lady sitting next to you."

"Oh Ana. For a second there I thought I was losing my marbles," and she chuckled.

"Ana have a drink with me," I pouted since I knew she had already said that to me before.

"Ana, my mother can be quite forgetful. Completely harmless but forgetful," she stroked her mother's hand.

"Gracie, don't talk about your mother like that, completely harmless, ha! Impossible." She winked at the both of us.

"Ana can I have a word?" Grace said.

Why do I feel like I'm being berated by my own mother.

"Ana soon we will be having an auction."

Thank God I thought she was going to mention Christian.

"A first dance auction. We're a participant short, I asked Elliot but Kate refused for him to participate," she rolled her eyes, "it's quite simple, people bid on you for a short dance. All proceeds go directly to the Coping Together charity. I would appreciate–"

"I'll do it," I knew I had to participate, "Grace, I appreciate you had asked me."

She held my hand and we both gave each other a warm smile.

"Now Anastasia," her smile quickly ceased. Shit "…Don't think you've gotten away easy without discussing the Christian incident. I expect to have a conversation with you before you leave for Boston. Now don't forget to have something to eat because you are looking a little pale, I don't want the beauty of the Ball to collapse during her first dance," all I could do was nod and sit quietly.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

…..

"NEXT UP WE HAVE a glamorous woman. She is currently an undergraduate of Harvard and absolutely single ladies and gentlemen and most definitely needs a ring of it."

He's not, he is. Oh my God!

Music thrummed through the speakers conveniently placed throughout the large tent; the middle-aged announcer began to dance to Beyoncé's "All The Single Ladies." The audience clapped along and laughed at my expense, I'm sure of it.

This is so embarrassing. Someone please pass me a shovel so I can dig my grave.

Looking at the audience I could only make out Grace in the dim light clasping her hands together, barely identifying the words she was mouthing, "I'm so sorry" and "think of the kids."

Thanks a lot Grace.

"Enough of my dancing skills, please welcome the Russian Princess – Anastasia," the announcer rolled my name which made me slightly shudder.

"Now opening bids at $500. Do we have $500?"

"Five hundred," an older woman calls out. Glancing in the back I can see it's none other than Mrs Evie Trevelyan.

"No I've changed my mind six hundred big ones," she shouts again.

Curving my hand over my eyes trying to find Evie, all I could see was Grace and Mr Trevelyan trying to keep the very woman quiet.

"Seven hundred for the princess" a gentlemen with very dark hair countered.

"Make it eight hundred," a familiar voice calls from the back but I'm unsure who due to the lack of lighting.

Quick enough the man counters, "Eight fifty."

"One thousand dollars!" the mystery man calls.

As quick as the battle started it was over. The gentlemen at the front shrugged his shoulders surrendering all bids. His face caught my eye as he mouthed 'later Anastasia'.

Disturbed by his confession, I stepped back out of the stoplight.

A loud call 'SOLD' rings through the tent.

Off mic the announcer suggests to talk with my winner. Since I have close to an hour before the dance begins I made my move.

Walking to the back of the tent, as I grew closer to the unidentified man, I knew who it was. It was still difficult to recognize him with his black masque but his cinnamon curls gave it away.

Instantly changing my mind, I made my way outside towards the beautiful waterside away from any drama which was going to manifest. I just want to enjoy myself for one night. He can wait another hour.

Unfortunately, I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me. My pace quicken, until I had nowhere else to go. I was trapped on the dock alone water, surrounding me.

Damn it. Why can't I think things through!

Grabbing the railing all I could do was sigh and embrace for impact.

"Hello Christian."

"Hello Pixie."


A/N:

SONG INSPIRATION:

1. Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word - ELTON JOHN

Thank you for reading the new reworked/beta-ed "Misplaced & Found." If you haven't already done so, please favourite, follow, review and PM me regarding any M&F questions or concerns. See you soon for chapter 19.

missmusicteach