Find Me Alastar

They start to talk while I glance around at our opulent surroundings. This really is something else. I’m on my fourth champagne when the tinkering of the dinner bell sounds and everyone starts to make their way back down to the bottom level to the marquee. James has been talking to these two men for about an hour now. He is being so pathetically nice I may puke any moment. Instead, I have remained relatively silent. Honestly, I just don’t have it in me to even make the effort to talk to men at the moment. We take our seat in the packed dining area and introduce ourselves to everyone we are among. They all seem nice enough, and we enjoy our beautiful meal.

Dessert is just being served and the table is in conversation when a good-looking older guy gets up on stage. The crowd all clap loudly. I glance over to see James is smiling broadly while clapping.

I tap him on the leg and he frowns at me in question.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking photos and stuff?” I whisper.

His eyes widen. “Shit, yes. I forgot I’m working.”

I giggle. “You’re an idiot. How could you forget?”

He shuffles around and retrieves his camera from his bag before he stands and walks closer to the stage.

The elderly good-looking man holds his hands up and everyone laughs. I don’t know who he is, but everyone else seems to. He’s clearly very popular. I smile into my champagne glass.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. Welcome to the annual sixth Art Collaboration Fundraiser. To date this team has raised thirteen million pounds” He smiles broadly and the crowd all cheer and whistle.

Wow, that’s impressive. They must work hard. The waitress places a piece of cheesecake in front of me, and a huge slice of mud cake in front of James. I smile and immediately swap them over so I have the chocolate cake.

He holds his hand out to the side. “May I present our committee?”

Everyone claps loudly.

I shovel my first mouthful of chocolate cake into my mouth as I look up to see the team of six walk onto the stage.

The blood drains from my face.

“We have Magdeline Rushmore. Star O’Shea. Roberta Mumford. Amanda Marx. And last, but by no means least, Rachel Runner.” The crowd all cheer.

Are you fucking kidding me? I sit and stare at the stage in shock.

He’s here. Alastar is here.

No!

He stands on stage in an expensive well-fitted navy suit and a white shirt. Big, kissable lips stare back at me, and his messed up, dark, wavy hair looking absolutely dreamy. And to top it all off, he’s completely oblivious to my presence.

I drop my head as I swallow my cake whole.

Oh my God. Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I start to look around in a panic for an exit. What are the damn chances of running into him here? And he has to be on the fucking committee, doesn’t he?

I am not seeing him again. I’m too ashamed of how pathetic I acted last time we met—crying and begging him to return my feelings after only just meeting. Feelings that seemed so real at the time… actually, they still do. I can’t explain it because I don’t even understand it myself. God, he even left me in his house to get away from me. I’m so embarrassed.

The committee sits back down into their seats and the entertainment starts. It’s a band playing covers, and a small dance floor to the left of me soon begins to fill. I sit still in my seat as I watch Alastar through the crowd. He’s sitting on the table with Monica and Tabatha and they are all laughing. He has an arm casually slung over the back of one of the chairs and his drink in his other hand. Everyone at the table seems to hang off everything he says and then they all sporadically burst into laughter. That’s his wit—that damn annoying, dry, witty sense of humor. For fifteen minutes, I put myself through hell by watching him enjoying himself.

I text Brielle.

Kill me now.

Alastar is here.



A reply bounces back.

What the fuck?

What did he say?



I text back.

He hasn’t seen me.



She texts straight back.

Abort mission.

Get the hell out of there.



Sadness fills me. She’s right. I’m not embarrassing myself further. I text back.

Okay. I’m leaving now.

Ring you when I get home.



She texts back.

Love you.

xx



I need to leave. I look around as I try to come up with an escape plan. I take out my phone and Google taxi service. Nothing comes up. What do they call it here? I look over to the nerdy man sitting across from me.

“If I wanted to call a cab, who would I call from here?”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

My face falls. “Oh.”

Sensing my disappointment, he stands. “Hang on a second. I will find out for you.”

I smile gratefully. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” He stands and disappears into the crowd.

I put my head into my hands. I have never been so grateful to be on the back table at an event in all of my life. My eyes flick back to Alastar who is now standing and talking to a group of men. He looks so happy… so unaffected and normal.

Damn him.

He has totally ruined my poor innocent heart and he doesn’t have a care in the world. I, however, have gained five kilos and aged ten years. Brielle thinks it’s a good thing. She says I will never take another good man for granted again, and she could be onto something. The man who went to find out about the cab comes back to the table with Tabatha following him. I close my eyes. Oh no. It’s getting worse.

“This is the girl.” He gestures to me.

T.L. Swan's books