Page 42 of Resolutions

"Hey Cameron! Tonight's already jumping."

“Looks like a good turnout. You guys okay here?”

“Have you seen all this eye candy?" Joe looks out at the crowd. "We're great! Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah, a Brew Brother's chocolate stout with two orange slices and two cherries.”

“You're kidding. Huh, I'm really going to have to try it that way. You're my second order tonight, wanting it with two orange slices and two cherries.” Joe walks away to get my beer from farther down the bar.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I whip around to scan the crowd, but there are too many people, too many faces. Is she here? She can't be.

“Damn it, Joe, hurry up,” I mutter, still searching. Calm down. It's just a coincidence. Lots of people like chocolate and oranges. But cherries too? My heart won't stop racing.

Joe returns with my beer. “Sorry, had to grab another case. Last one.”

“Who ordered the other stout like mine?” I try to keep my voice casual.

“Come on, man. If I tell you, I won't get a chance with her. You being all dapper and the GM. No way dude, telling you makes it unfair odds for me, I'm just the bartender.”

“What? I'm just curious.” My fingers drum the bar impatiently. “Joe?”

“Alright, alright. Smoking hot blonde number in a purple dress that highlighted everything and I mean everything. Didn't give me the time of day, but damn...”

My mouth goes dry. Blonde? Blonde? A wig! That must be it! She's wearing a wig. “Was the dress lavender colored?”

“What the hell color is lavender?” Joe's brow furrows. “It was purple.”

“Light or dark purple?” I press, probably looking insane.

“Shit, man, do I look like a fashion critic? All I remember is her ass walking away in a light purple dress. Hey, I guess it was lavender!” He grins, proud of himself.

“Which way did she go?” I'm ready to vault over the bar, but I hold myself in check.

Joe must see something in my face because he quickly points toward the far wall. I'm moving before he finishes the gesture.

It has to be her. Our favorite beer with exactly two oranges and two cherries, who else would order that exact combination? And a lavender dress. It must be her. I weave through the crowd, eyes scanning for that distinctive color. Nothing. Then, by the doors, a flash of lavender. It's gone as fast as I see it. My feet are running before my brain catches up.

“Grand party, Cameron. I'm thinking about hosting a conference.” Some guy in a suit steps in my path.

“Not now.” I sidestep him without breaking stride. Melanie! It has to be her! I see the lavender disappear around the corner into the foyer.

Fuck all these people! Standing on tiptoes, I catch another glimpse - she's heading past the coat racks toward the backhallway. Move Cameron, move! My heart pounds as I give chase. Please, please let it be her. Please let me finally see that she's alright and give me the answers I so desperately need.

Chapter 21

Cameron

My footsteps thud on the carpet as I sprint after her. My heart pounds in sync with each stride. I weave through the crowd like a running back dodging tackles, sliding past elderly couples, ducking under drink trays, sidestepping laughing groups. I see the girl turn down the hallway.

From behind, I swear that's her. “Melanie?” I yell, but it gets absorbed into the noise. The loud music and chatter from all the people means there's no way she could have heard me. But I had to try.

The long hallway dramatically stretches out before me as I stop. Suddenly, I feel like I'm the kid riding the tricycle in The Shining. My breath comes in sharp bursts. Damn, this tension is killer. I step forward as my mind floods with questions. Why did she run from me? Why wouldn't she come talk to me? Fuck, is what she wrote in the note true? I push the thoughts from my mind, telling myself I have to focus, I need answers. If shedoesn't want me, then, damn it, she's going to tell me that to my face.

Finally, some good luck, I realize the hallway is a dead end, no door to the outside. The laundry and maintenance room doors, restrooms, and kitchen staff entrance are the only things in this hall. The other kitchen door is blocked; it's being used as a hot appetizer serving station. She must be hiding; there's nowhere else she can go.

The first doors are the restrooms. I checked the men's and didn't find anyone in a lavender dress. Standing outside the ladies' room, I hesitate. The slightly quieter sounds of music and laughter drift from the foyer. Shit, I can't just barge in, but... if she's in there.

The door swings open and Mrs. Gentry emerges, looking exactly as she did when she taught my Sunday school class. I thought she was old then; now I can't fathom how old she is. Mom calls her the chatterbox, just what I don't need right now.

---