DEJONAE
The banquet hall is packed with dignitaries, kids, parents, and reporters. I step inside, holding my breath at the vast display of wealth and elegance. Velvet curtains, golden accents, red tapestry. Everywhere I look delights my eyes.
“How much do you think an event like this costs?” Yaya signs.
I shrug.
“Oh well. At least I have an excuse to show this off.” She slips her hands into the folds of her shimmery blue dress and waves the skirt back and forth.
My sister looks gorgeous with her hair in faux locs again and scooped up at the crown of her head. Diamond earrings sparkle in her ears and she’s finished it off with dramatic black gloves.
The dress she’s wearing is a Kimberly Barret original—the brand that she’s an ambassador for.
When Yaya could finally tell us the details about her contract, we were beyond ecstatic for her.
Beautiful music sails through the air.
It’s coming from the stage.
Mom’s eyes glisten as she fixes her gaze on the children playing the piano. “Oh, they’re doing so well.”
“What are those headbands they’re wearing?” Yaya gestures.
I glance at Timmy and Grace, two of our younger students at the foundation.
No, not ‘our’.
Not anymore.
I have a draft of my resignation letter saved in my email and I’ll send it as soon as my performance tonight is over.
“That’s the MTB,” I inform them.
“Ah.” Despite her nodding, mom still seems confused.
“I’ll explain later.” I wipe my sweaty palms against my regular, department store dress. I’m nervous and half of me wants to just run through the door.
But I stay.
My performance tonight was scheduled long in advance. Since I honor my word, I plan to perform. I’ll give it my best as an ode to the foundation and the direction that I found for my life.
Dad shakes his hands in the sign for ‘applause’ and watches the students get off the piano bench.
“They were incredible. Look at the smiles on their faces.” Dad gets teary-eyed. “Wow.”
“Dad, we just got here. Can you save the crying until they’re all done?” Yaya signs teasingly.
I smile at my father. He’s looking neat and spiffy in a black tux with a bow tie. He and mom make a beautiful pair.
Sheila mounts the stage, doing her work as the host. A vision of hotness trails her, walking up to the stage like a famous model or actor about to receive an award.
Sazuki.
He’s carrying two bouquets, wearing a small, warm smile on his lips. He hands the children their flowers individually and signs ‘congratulations’ to them.
Holy crap.
I’m going to implode with the force of the asteroid that decimated the dinosaurs.
Why can’t I breathe?
I knew Sazuki would be here, but I didn’t expect how much he would affect me. He’s so gorgeous that it makes my heart quiver.
All the memories of our time together working, dating, and loving each other bangs around in my head. He looks untouchable up there. Like someone who would never, ever fit in my world.
I stop and stare so hard that my dad has to poke me in the side to get my attention.
“Sweetheart, you okay?”
“Yeah.” I blink rapidly. “I’ll go prepare for my performance.”
“Break a leg,” Yaya signs.
I smile shakily.
Sazuki and Sheila walk off the stage. His tuxedo is a classic navy blue with black lapels. The way his trousers taper down to his ankles and reveals his expensive black loafers is subtle and sophisticated.
I want to run to him so badly that I physically tremble with the need.
I’ve completely lost my mind.
His eyes burn like twin coals when he searches the crowd on his way down the stairs. I avert my gaze before I get a frantic mental picture of the life we could have had if we weren’t both so stubborn.
Ryotaro Sazuki is stunning, princely, and painfully forbidden.
Drawn by a feeling I can’t name, I glance at Sazuki again and find him standing frozen at the bottom of the stairs. His vivid brown eyes spear right through me.
My lips part. Heat burns my cheeks.
Sheila, who was coming off the stage behind him, taps his shoulder and says something, probably along the lines of ‘why are you blocking the stairs?’ Sazuki goes back into motion and I release a breath.
I can’t tell what his expression meant.
Is he mad? Happy? Annoyed?
“There you are,” one of the admin from the office grabs me. “We were about to call you.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
She waves away the excuse. “You’re up after this performance. Come with me.”
She leads me backstage. It’s similar to the chaos of Niko’s school performance except it’s much quieter. Parents and teachers are chatting with the kids via sign language. Despite the quiet, there’s a similar level of excitement in the air.
I sit in the corner and tuck my chin against my chest. What feels like a second later, someone motions to me.
I rise nervously.
Just get up there and perform like no one’s watching.
My heels feel unstable as I take short steps through the wings. The lights are harsh on my face.
Weird.
It’s not until you’re in the spotlight that you feel the heat.
I ignore everyone and take my seat around the piano. This is my second live performance since the Belle’s Beauty gala when I met Sazuki.
I’m playing the same song.
Will he notice? Will he understand?
I push those thoughts from my mind and focus on the notes. The song is poignant. Tender. Fraught with love.
My head bows over the piano and I play with my eyes closed, focusing on nothing but the music and conveying the feeling to the audience.
A disturbance to my right pulls me out of the zone.
I glance up and notice a line of beefy Asian security guards climbing up the stairs and heading right for me.
My fingers freeze on the piano.
Not again.
Akira is at the head of the line. She and the others form a circle, their backs to me.
I hear the murmurs and gasps of the onlookers, but I’m too busy trying not to hyperventilate.
Especially when Sazuki enters the circle.
I lift my head to look at him, hardly believing my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Going after what I want,” he says.
Shock climbs up my throat, fighting for dominance against the heat that’s surging through my veins.
“In front of everyone?”
“Technically, it is just us here.”
“Sazuki…” I can’t believe he’d disrupt the foundation’s opening night for me.
Our eyes lock.
Mine fill with tears.
His brim with quiet determination.
The bouncers standing around us don’t make a single move. From beyond the circle, I hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Vanya’s encouraging everyone to get a drink.
Sazuki kneels in front of me.
“I’m not ready to get married,” I blurt.
His eyes twinkle at me. His dimples pop out in full force.
“Give me your hand,” he says.
I wince and offer it to him.
“Have you heard of the Legend of the Red String?” Sazuki asks, holding up a thin red thread.
“Um, no,” I squeak.
I’m feeling lightheaded.
If he doesn’t hurry this along, I’m going to pass out in his arms.
“According to the myth, everyone has an invisible red string tied to their little finger. This string will lead you to the one with whom you will make history.”
He places the string around my finger and ties it gently.
My breath stalls.
I bend over, unable to keep upright.
Is this really happening?
Sazuki stares up at me. His hair is brushed back in a dashing style. Light bounces against his sleek black mane before meeting a violent end as it cuts against his sharp jawline.
“My thread ends with you.” He lifts his hand and I notice that the tie is already bound around his pinky finger. “It was tangled and stretched before, but it led me to you. It will always end with you. This is my promise.”
With a relieved sob, I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He almost falls on his back, but he manages to grip the piano bench and stay upright.
“That was so nice,” I sob. “I didn’t expect you to be so romantic.”
He rubs my back and it’s warm. I melt into him, reveling in the rightness of having him close to me.
But I push him away quickly.
“As much as I love this, people are here for the foundation. Not for us.”
“Indeed.” He winks. “They are here for us too.”
“What?”
“Let us finish the song. Together.”
To my surprise, Sazuki sits on the bench beside me.
The bouncers fall away, disappearing into the wings.
Someone shuts off the lights.
A spotlight appears on us.
“Miss Williams,” Sazuki says, gesturing to the piano.
I focus on him, ignoring the flashes of the cameras, the murmur of the crowd, and the excited squeals of Kenya, Vanya, Sunny and Dawn, who have somehow migrated closer to the stage.
Together, Sazuki and I play.
In tandem.
Our hearts beating as one.
And our eyes focused on each other.
When it ends, the room is silent.
I look out and see my mom and dad, wiping tears from their eyes.
Yaya is holding Niko’s hand. Both of them are beaming at me.
The applause starts slowly.
Then it gains speed until it fills up the entire room.
Sazuki and I take a bow, our hands still joined.
When we walk down the stage together, Niko rushes up to us.
She gives me a hug and signs, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
A stunned Sheila takes the stage. “Um… well, that was an interesting performance.”
I wrap my free arm around Niko, my heart swelling with love and my eyes turning misty. If I hadn’t met Niko, then I probably wouldn’t have given Sazuki a minute of my time.
I press a kiss to her forehead.
The reporters take pictures as we walk away.
I lean in to whisper, “Are you okay with them snapping photos of us?”
“Their cameras will be confiscated when they leave,” he whispers back.
I look up at him and grin, falling a little harder in love with him than I thought was possible.
His eyes turn heated. “Keep watching me like that, Miss Williams, and you will not make it through the rest of the night in that dress.”
“Hey,” I cover Niko’s ears, “children are present.”
He gives me a wicked grin.
We get to the back of the room and my parents converge on us.
Dad shakes Sazuki’s hand.
Yaya signs, “I knew you were up to something when you insisted I bring mom and dad to the gala.”
“Thank you for joining us tonight,” he tells her.
Mom signs, “Your daughter is beautiful.”
Sazuki smiles down at Niko’s head.
The little girl grins in return.
Unfortunately, the family time doesn’t last long. Someone calls Sazuki away and I’m yanked along thanks to the string on my finger.
After about five minutes of networking, I’m tapped out.
“Sazuki,” I lift our hands, “I love the metaphors and everything. Really. I do. But can we keep the whole ‘joined together forever’ thing at a figurative level now?”
He shakes his head. “You will be stuck to me all night. It is your punishment for trying to quit the foundation and drop out of school.”
“Drop out of school?” My jaw slackens. “Who told you that?”
His eyebrows arch.
“I was going to quit the foundation and start teaching deaf students privately, but I wasn’t going to drop out of school. Are you kidding? Do you know how hard I’ve worked?” I chuckle. “At the start of your little scheme to get my help, I had the dean draft up an agreement that I would perform in the end-of-year showcase if my internship fell through. I planned on reminding him of that agreement.”
“Solid plan.” He looks impressed. “You are very smart, Miss Williams.”
I swat at him.
He takes something out of his pocket and wraps it around my wrist.
I gasp when I see the red bracelet.
“There.” He clasps it for me. “That way, we will always be connected.”
“Mr. Sazuki!” Someone pulls him away to make the closing remarks.
I watch him cut through the crowd and take the mike to give a long list of thank yous, first to his family, to Adam and then finally to all the instructors.
His eyes meet mine as he says, “I could not have done this without you.”
My smile stretches across my face.
“I love you,” I sign.
He steps back and motions, “Always.”
