"The restaurant entrance should be okay. Can you lookout for reporters, please? Thanks," I said to the driver. I relaxed back into the leather seat, lowered the window, and quickly sent a text to my date with the location of our last-minute date. My hair was down, the unseasonably warm evening breeze causing my hair to fly all over the place. It was date night - Saturday night at Carew Tower. A very special date night. Enjoying Etta James playing softly on the car speakers, I sang, "And here we are in heaven, for you are mine at last," unable to keep the smile off my face. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the warm breeze, and imagining the hands that will hold me at the end of the night.
Last month, while teasing Trent about his upcoming birthday, he confessed that he had never celebrated a birthday with his own friends. My heart broke as he told me guests of his annual over-the-top birthday bash were solely business and political allies of Trent's father. Wanting to see him happy on his birthday, the first birthday we will celebrate together, I planned an intimate party for next weekend. Tonight is to celebrate both his birthday and our anniversary. I realized, just this morning, that we have been officially a couple for three months. Knowing Trent and Jenks would be in the city meeting with Trent's lawyer, I planned this surprise last-minute date. I warned Trent he better be available at 8pm and wait for a text with the location. There is usually a long waiting list for reservations at Carew Tower's revolving restaurant. I was surprised the host took my reservation, and promised a corner table overlooking the city. I guess being famous does have its perks. Carew Tower was just one of the surprises I planned for the evening.
"Rachel, move your arm. I'm closing the window. There are reporters already at the entrance," Jon said. "Are you going to use a charm?"
"Geez. Really? Guess someone tipped them off," I muttered, as I reached into the inner pocket of my clutch purse to find an already invoked disguise charm. The media has been relentless the last few months and, unlike Trent, I sometimes prefer hiding my identity to avoid the press. I tucked the earth charm under the neckline of my evening dress. "How do I look?" I asked.
Glancing in the rear view mirror, "Considerably improved. Maybe you should consider a permanent change," Jon said, without the least bit of animosity. Things between Jon and I were not tense like they used to be. It was hard being angry at him all the time, so I convinced myself to give him a chance, and started treating him like a real person. Not friends exactly, but giving up that animosity has certainly made life much easier to enjoy.
Sticking my tongue out, "Yeah. Yeah. You're such a comedian," I said dryly. As Jon slowly pulled up to the curb, I slipped my new compact scrying mirror from my purse. Not the best thing for checking if I had lipstick on my teeth, but it would do in a pinch. The limo came to a slow halt and, through the dark tinted windows, I eyed the reporters. They have yet to catch me, but it was only a matter of time before they started using ley-line glasses to see underneath my disguises. My hair, now straight and honey blond, was styled so it was quite short in the back, but became gradually longer in the front, and angled around my unchanged face. I guess the sophisticated cut and color, so drastically different from my well-known normal wild frizzy mess of red, were enough to keep me from getting recognized. It probably also helped that my pack tattoo was now hidden by the disguise.
Jon was eyeing me in the rear-view mirror, and nodding in response to his unanswered question, I took a deep breath and held it. He made his way around the car to my door and, as he opened it, I slowly let out my breath. "Thanks," I said gratefully to Jon. With a small smile, I clasped Jon's offered hand as I tried to make my way gracefully out of the limo. Using his extreme height to block me from the view of most of the reporters, he rolled his eyes, and I smirked back at him. Like me, he was probably thinking of the first time he "helped" me out of a limo.
"Trent has the SUV, you don't have to worry about coming back for us," I whispered. Trent was in the news few months ago, and not in a good way. Allegations of brimstone production and biogenetic engineering seemed to be all the media would talk about for several months. Coverage of Trent has simmered down, but with recent calls for an elven registry, we still needed to worry. I wasn's sure who was to blame. I figured the allegations surrounding Trent stemmed from Ellasbeth. She wasn't happy with the custody arrangement, and even less thrilled that Trent and I were officially a couple. But would she really put her own people at risk out of spite and jealousy? Could they be completely unrelated? I didn't want to take any chances arriving at Carew Tower and asked Jon to drive me over. The few times Trent and I have been together in public, the girls were always with us. This will be our first time alone together in a public venue. Who knows what will happen?
"Are you sure? It's no trouble," Jon said.
"It's bullet-proof. Dude, really? Are you trying to play dad, too?" I joked. Both Jenks and Quen offered to act as security tonight. And, by offered, I mean insisted. I repeated "date night" for a solid 10 minutes until both finally relented.
"A bullet-proof car won't help if you're not in it," he said, as I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Just call if anything happens. Quen will kill me if anything happens to the either of you. I'm waiting for Trent to arrive so I can take Jenks back with me," he reminded me.
"Yes, Dad. We'll be careful. And we'll be tucked in before midnight so we don't turn into pumpkins," I joked. To his surprise, I pulled him down to me and kissed his cheek. "Now, get out of here before Trent sees us and gets jealous!"
Jon shook his head and gestured for me to start walking. My hips swaying slightly, I walked past the reporters with my head held high. Safely inside, I waved my purse at Jon, who had waited to be sure I wouldn't get harassed by the media vultures. With "At Last" still running through my mind, I made across the marble lobby to the restaurant lift.
"At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are over," I sang with my eyes closed. The elevator doors chimed, and I opened my eyes to find a dignified gray-haired witch, in an expensive suit, smiling broadly at me. I felt my face flush and I moved aside to let him pass.
Still slightly embarrassed with my public karaoke performance, I walked into the elevator, surprised when I faced front to find the stranger holding the lift doors open. "Whoever he is, he is a lucky man," he said as he winked, "make sure he knows it."
"Luck has nothing to do with it. He's had to work very hard for it," I responded wryly, as the doors shut between us, and I pressed the button for the restaurant. Pulling off my disguise charm, I smoothed the black silk of my dress. I closed my eyes, took a deep breathe, and slowly let it out. I didn't want to dwell on all the hoops Trent has had to jump through. Needless to say, our being a couple hasn't been easy, especially on him.
My thoughts cleared after some deep breathing and excited for the evening, I smiled as the elevator doors opened. I could hear a live band playing and the lights of Cincy captivated me. "Good evening, Ms. Morgan," the hostess greeted me at the elevator. "You're table will be ready shortly. Will Mr. Kalamack be joining you?"
I guess restaurant hosts also read the gossip pages. "He should be here in ten minutes or so," I said, glancing at his name tag. "Thank you, Michael. Please let Trent know I'm waiting at the bar." Walking past diners at their tables, I heard more than a few whispers following me, as I made my way to the bar. I let out a deep sigh as I settled on a tall barstool and adjusted my dress.
"Good evening, Ms. Morgan. Champagne, right?" the bartender said, placing a napkin then glass of bubbly in front of me.
Pulling my eyes away from television mounted above the bar, I recognized the bartender. "Yes, thanks," I smiled. The bartender smiled back, nodded and walked back to his corner where his phone lay. Geez, he texts faster than Trent does.
Turning my attention back to the television, I could see Limbcus being interviewed. Limbcus was the acting spokesman for the movement for the Registry. Initially they tried a voluntary registry for elves, but as you can imagine, they received few responses to their survey. A week ago it was announced that all humans and Inderlanders, excluding pixies and fairies, had to register. Even Bis and the gargoyles atop the cathedral received letters to register. Etude, Bis' father, and the other gargoyles can't read, so they came by the church to have the letters read to them. Depending on how the test run in Cincinnati goes, they will be rolling out similar models in other large cities across the US. The first day of the registry is taking place in 4 days right here at Fountain Square. I didn't want to have to think about the repercussions. At least, not tonight.
The familiar smell of cinnamon and expensive cologne washed over me, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up at the mirror over the bar, and saw a gorgeous blond standing right behind me. I smiled at our mirrored reflections. Damn, we look good together.