Page 49 of Chasing the Red Queen

Donja stared, she couldn’t help it, he was a looker, but he was nowhere near seventeen, maybe twenty?

Makayla raised a hand to her hair. “I intended to call, but we were busy putting some pictures online.”

He cocked his head, blond locks hanging to his shoulders. “You best not be looking for another man.”

Donja watched him intently, his accent was so sexy.

“I’m not looking for a man,” Makayla simpered, “it’s some old wedding pictures. Hey, I want you to meet my sister, Donja,” she said flashing her pearly whites. “Donja, this is my on again, off again boyfriend, Gage LeBlanc.”

“Nice to meet you, Donja, and don’t listen to her,” he winked, “it’s always on,” he said with a dazzling smile that put you at ease.

“Nice to meet you, Gage,” Donja smiled and it was easy to see why Makayla liked him, if that was the correct word because the way she was looking at him, it seemed like so much more. Donja caught his eye as he cast a look scanning her head to toe. He turned back to Makayla. “She’s a lovely girl, but as best I can tell, she’s Rh and you’re O positive so she couldn’t be your sister.”

“Gage!” Makayla exclaimed as she slammed his chest with her hand. “She just got here a few days ago and I haven’t even told her about you.”

“Told me what?” Donja queried.

Makayla cast a blunted gaze and they locked eyes, Donja waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Finally, completely baffled, Donja cocked her head. “Well, come on, what’s the big secret?”

Makayla flashed her eyes to Gage, then back to Donja. “No secret,” she stammered, “just that he’s…a…practical joker,” she explained with an innocent smile which didn’t match her guilty eyes.

“Yes,” Gage gushed, jumping to her defense, “excuse me, Donja,” he said with his blue eyes sparkling, “my attempt at humor, which you can see is poor, often gets me into trouble. Welcome to the Soo.”

“Thanks,” Donja smiled, perplexed.

“You’re welcome and you’ll get used to my practical jokes. I’m not a bad guy and I love this gal madly,” he said with an adoring glance to Makayla. “Shall we dance, love?” he asked as he planted a kiss on her check.

Makayla looked to Donja.

“Go ahead,” Donja said, “I need to find the little girls’ room.”

Makayla took off, Gage half dragging her as she pointed beyond the bar where Donja saw a sign that read, ‘The Throne Room.’

She slid off the bar stool.

What was that all about? Secrets, hmmm why didn’t you ever mention him? Better yet, are you sleeping with him?

She chuckled.

No, surely not, you said you were a virgin.

“Whatever,” she mumbled navigating a throng of hundreds, yapping and drinking in tight circles, tables packed, laughter, music and the boisterous D.J., utterly mindboggling. She maneuvered among them moving with fluidity which was near impossible then suddenly her stride faltered and out of the cacophony she heard Gage’s words echoing.

A lovely girl, but she’s Rh and you’re O positive, she can’t be your sister.

Something cold washed over her.

How could he possibly have known that I’m Rh?

She paused, mid stride as a petite waitress in a skimpy outfit rushed past, drinks in hand and climbed the stairs to the V.I.P. section. Her eyes trailed to the upper level and she noticed several of the men seated in the red booths flash her a look, a couple with hungry eyes, but she once more set her stride, walking. She stopped near the stairs as the waitress sashayed past her. She glanced back to the V.I.P. section as a tall guy in the front booth stood up. His companions joined him as he raised his stein. They shared a toast, with celebratory cheers, steins clinking. Donja watched them and as the group of strangers sat down, one of them who was tall dark and critically handsome glanced to her. Caught up in laughter, he looked away, then immediately looked back, his smile gone, his face dead serious. Donja averted her gaze, and realized her pulse was bounding. She weaved through the crowd with an intense feeling that she was being watched.

Wow. He was beautiful, too beautiful to be real.

Down a wide hallway, Donja all but fought for passage through the crowd which seemed oblivious to their surroundings. Finding the ladies room, she waited in line for a stall. Done, she washed and dried her hands. In the lighted mirrors, she checked her makeup which was flawless and tussled her long dark locks that fell in torrential layers of shimmering light. She applied fresh gloss over her painted lips and then stood back as distorted images of the old Donja, fluctuating in the lighted mirrors, forced a gasp. She reached out and with her finger touched the image half expecting her hand to pass through, for it didn’t seem real. She felt the cold glass and with such met the dark eyes staring back at her, a teardrop on her cheek. She heaved a breath and in the back of her mind, she somehow knew that the scared kid who had been hiding beneath a mask was not only fading, but would eventually cease to exist.

I’m okay with that, I don’t have to hide anymore, I have Makayla, my shield.

She smiled and straightened her posture, shoulders back with pride.

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