Page 5 of Until

"I still don't understand the purpose of your masquerade,” Edmond says. “You are a handsome man, Ryan. As a matter of fact, you look a lot like your father. Almost the spitting image of him with your athletic build, and light brown hair. Oh, the stories Warren and I could tell of your father’s adventures. He had his choice of women.”

“They were practically throwing themselves at him,” Warren chimes in. “I suggest you get the word out that you’re looking for a bride, and you'll find someone in no time."

"And how will I know that she loves me for me? That's the whole point of the masquerade. People won’t know who I am."

"Yes, but you won’t know them either,” Lewis says.

"Then I'll get to know them, and they’ll get to know me. That’s part of the fun.”

"That's also tiring,” Edmond says. “I appreciate your blind optimism when it comes to love, but you're running out of time."

"She's out there. I know she is," I say. "I will meet my soulmate, the one I’m meant to be with when the time is right. And that’s who I’ll marry. I have faith in that."

I push back my chair and stand, done with the conversation. It angers me that I have to go through this every month. It’s just like my father to continue to control me even after his death.

The drive home is enough to clear my head. The next masquerade is in three days, and I need to make sure everything is set.

The Stirling estate looms in the distance. It’s a large stone mansion that feels cold with only me living in it. It’s where I grew up, the same with my father, and his father before him. The home came with the inheritance, but it never felt as if it was mine.

I park the car in front of the grand double staircase entrance and enter through the large wooden doors. My butler, David, rushes into the foyer to greet me.

“I didn’t expect you home so soon, sir,” he says.

“You know I hate when you call me that, David. I have a name, you should use it.”

“Yes, sir,” he says.

“You just did it again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, sir.” David walks into the next room with a half grin, then returns with a box. “Your mask and suit for the ball arrived, sir. I took the liberty of hanging your suit in your dressing room, but I thought you might want to look at your mask.”

He hands me the box. “Yes, thank you, David. I’ve been waiting for this.”

I slide the wooden box out of the shipping box. The masks I wear for the ball are a special extravagance of mine. I never wear the same mask twice. I push open the lid and remove the silk-wrapped mask. As I unfold the black silk the mask is finally revealed. It’s a dark hunter green, with intricate gold vine accents around the edges. It looks even better in person than I imagined.

“That is lovely, sir. Are you still feeling like this party is the day you’ll meet her?”

“Yes, I can’t explain it but I have a good feeling about it. She’s going to be there. Whoever she is.”

“If I may be so brash, sir, what if she doesn’t come? Ever. What if somewhere your dream woman doesn’t even know the ball exists?”

“Don’t be absurd, David.”

“Hear me out, Ryan.”

I’m taken aback hearing David use my name. Whatever he has to say he must be serious about.

“Go ahead,” I say.

“What happens in seven months if these balls don’t work like you’ve been hoping they will? You’ve put a lot of time and effort into these parties every month. You even built a facility to host the balls. What if you never meet her because she’s busy working at the coffee shop downtown?”

“Now wouldn’t that be ironic? Maybe I need to start meeting our local baristas.” I laugh, but I understand David’s reasoning. I can’t explain why I feel the masquerade balls are the solution. It’s just a feeling I have. “Did you ever meet my mother’s parents? I’m not sure if you were around when they visited. They weren’t wealthy. They were average people, but I never saw a love like theirs anywhere else. I had no doubt that they loved each other. It was palpable. That’s what I’m looking for, David. Someone who completes me as if I’m a puzzle missing that final curvy-edged piece.”

“And in seven months?”

“In seven months I might be going to that coffee shop and looking for a job.” I laugh, but David’s look says he’s not in the mood. “The money isn’t important to me, David. Love is. When I’ve met other women, as soon as they hear my name I can see the change in their eyes. Suddenly I’m not Ryan, I’m a Stirling. I don’t want that. My grandparents had electricity between them. A spark. I’m going to find my spark.”

“And if you don’t?”

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