Page 2 of Valentine's Miracle

I’m a normal human being. I like to have the holiday spirit without being held back by the demonic grips of work and demanding politicians for results.

The door closes behind me as I step down from the small steps to lead me to the driver behind the gate that I open with a push of a button on the side bricks that holds the gates up. I smile and greet the man who returns the gesture; he guides me to the door, and I slide into the backseat.

The smell of lemongrass-scented air freshener is pungent, but it’s easy to get used to as the driver gets behind the wheel. The car ride is quiet as Sebastian’s messages are bombarding my phone with urgent questions of whether I have my invitation or if I was there yet.

I don’t see how Sebastian can be a rising-star and being recommended to rich clients when he’s so impatient. Well, he’s more cautious than impatient if I look at it from another angle.

Tomato, tomato. Same difference. That man can take an insult and think of it as a compliment. Overall, he and Silas are complicated characters in their own ways.

As the car stops in front of a tall building, the media becomes frenzied again behind the ropes and two rows of security. The red carpet is under my feet as a hand is held out for me to use. I take it and make sure that my dress didn’t snag at the space between the cushions before I thank the man in a clean suit.

Again, the flashes start, and it hurts my eyes more than it did in the car when they were taking pictures of the car that I was in. Paparazzi are crazy people, but they make good money by being aggressive.

I’m not a celebrity, but they’re still interested. Someone screams my name at the top of their lungs, and I look over to the flashing lights, and I silently pray that no one has epilepsy because this would be very bad for them.

I don’t know who called my name, but I think it’s one of the reporters that wanted a full view of my face in his pictures, so he called as if he knows me.

Walking up to the steps, I mentally prepare myself for the body of Sebastian when he sees me. He’s an overgrown puppy that can’t calm down for anything. I should wait for whoever is my guest, but Sebastian said to just keep going through a text message.

The invitation in my hand is in white and gold, a sophisticated message that whispers loudly to those who see it that I’m holding a golden ticket to riches. I sort of am since the couple in front of me is the power-couple of the year in the movie industry.

I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I heard it has won many awards and people say that their on-screen chemistry can burn through the core of the earth. Critics said that about Quartette, but that movie tanked the production company millions when it was released in theaters.

“Ah, Miss. Valentina.” The man tips his head in greeting when he looks at my name on the invitation.

“Are you alone tonight?” he asks, searching over my head to see if there was someone behind me.

His face pales for a moment when he clears his throat, smiling and putting the invitation down on the table beside him.

A trickle of shiver breathes on my neck as I furrow my brows at his odd behavior. I want to shrug, but that would not be classy, so I nod my head.

“She’s with me.”

My heart nearly leaps out of my throat when a voice, too deep and way too husky, says from behind me. I must have been too startled when I put my hand over my heart to calm the erratic thumps that I feel under my palm.

I peer behind my shoulder. The man is tall, a bit too tall and my eyes only land on his chest. A classic black suit fits over his broad torso and stretches across wide shoulders before my eyes trail up to chiseled jawline and irate green eyes.

My breath shudders to a stop when he steps from behind me and ignores my presence when he gets through the security check. He doesn’t look over his shoulder to see if I’m following him while the man beside me clears his throat.

I break out of my stupor, following the man with black hair.

“Silas,” I breathe his name.

It’s been seven years since I have seen him in person. He has changed, from a young, nerdy, and short boy to a tall, threatening, and handsome man.

I pause for a moment; a silent claw roots me in the middle of the hall as everyone converses with each other. I want to act irrationally and demand him to explain why he had not answered my calls for the last seven years, but I have never been the confrontational one, and it would do more harm than good if I don’t plan this out.

If he is still the same since the last time I saw him, he’s either still extremely angry, or he still retains that closed off and cold demeanor.

I look over to other attendees and gather my resolve, pulling up a wall of confidence before setting a smile on my face. When I turn to glance at Silas again, he has his back turned to me, and that adamant strong back is his way of telling me that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.

He hasn’t changed. His body language is still readable to me as I have grown up with him. I have decided then that I should not provoke the pent-up energy locked in his massive body or he’s going to let loose that infamous temper of his. It doesn’t matter how much I want to go up to him and just let the friendship mend by itself, I know Silas enough not to do the foolish act.

Silas can’t stand looking at me. That message is loud and clear, and I got it with an arrow straight through the heart. Cupid isn’t here with his heart arrows, but it still hurts nonetheless.

Sebastian glances here and there; his eyes are that of a lost puppy when he’s struggling with himself. He wants to stay with Silas and see what he can do, but he wants to come up to me too. Sebastian has been there for Silas for years since they were children born on the same day and nearly at the same time.

I shake my head, and I can see a flicker of relief in his eyes. He doesn’t have to choose between us. I know that he will ultimately side with Silas because their friendship runs thicker than family blood.

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