Ribbon of Steele: A Romance of Suspense (3 page)

9

At a quarter past eight, Nicole and Mr. Anderson watched from the top of the runway as the guests arrived. Seeing the ladies in their gowns and the gentlemen in their tuxedos gave her a rush.

Looking down the long pier, she could see cars lined up to deliver their passengers. One car caught her eye. It was definitely antique, forest green, and huge. As it pulled up, its driver quickly got out and opened the rear door. Nicole strained to see the man getting out of the car. His broad shoulders and chiseled chin seemed to be carved out of solid stone. He was much more handsome in person. Nicole had seen pictures of Mackenzie Steele in the papers. The hunky, hotheaded son of a billionaire always drew a crowd, and it seemed like he was enjoying the playboy lifestyle. She hadn't  been expecting him at the party and wondered if this was the reason for Anderson's sudden budget change.

He walked confidently up the runway and she broke her gaze. He shook hands with a number of the men coming up the runway. They all addressed him as "Mr. Steele." As he approached, he gave Mr. Anderson a nod. "Mackenzie," said Anderson in acknowledgement. She thought it was a bit odd that Mr. Anderson had referred to him by his first name when everyone else he saw bent over backwards to kiss his ass.

Mackenzie Steele disappeared into the crowd at the top of the runway, and Nicole turned her gaze again toward the queuing traffic.

* * *

Further up the pier, Lizzie tipped the cabbie and stepped out of the car. She touched her hair to make sure it was still in place. Her feet moved swiftly beneath her as she walked towards the ship. She was late, but satisfied that she had pulled off a wardrobe change and travel time in just over an hour. She spotted Nicole and the troll at the top of the ramp and gave a quick wave. Nicole excused herself, and met Lizzie on the runway.

"I am so sorry I was late," Nicole said. "I think I changed like six times." She took a step back. "Lizzie, You look amazing. Damn. There is definitely a penis or two at this party that..."

"No, penises," whispered Lizzie fanning herself. She shook her head. "I'm sweating. It is so hot out here," she said.

"That's because you just friggin' ran a mile down a pier to get here," laughed Nicole. "Go get a drink. I'll just be a second," she said motioning at Anderson who was still standing at the top of the runway.

Lizzie nodded, trying to politely catch her breath. The boat was beginning to get packed,  and Lizzie could hear the jazz quartet inside the dining room.

Lizzie made her way to the bar. She was exhausted, but satisfied. The guests looked happy, and Lizzie smiled when she looked at the tables of perfectly folded napkins. 

"Moët please," she said. The bartender quickly handed her a flute of champagne. She did a quick sweep of the dining room, downed her drink, and grabbed another champagne from a waiter as she made her way up to the deck.

Taking the glass, she walked to the deck of the boat. The guests seemed to be having a great time, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The week had been crazy and she smiled at the scene she had helped to create.

By now, most of the partygoers had made their way inside, and she was content to be alone with her thoughts.

The sun began to set as she placed her hand on the rail of the ship and stared into the harbor. Pink and tangerine spires reflected and danced in the water of the harbor. A few boats in the harbor rocked gently in the waves, sending scattered reflections of the sun's waining rays. 

She suddenly felt like she wasn't alone. She turned and looked down the length of the ship to see a man a few feet down the railing taking in the same view. Turning back to the sunset, she turned her eyes to steal another quick look at the man.

He had broad shoulders and neatly trimmed auburn hair. Lizzie found herself unable to break her gaze. Leaning forward, his elbows rested on the rail as he gazed deeply at the sunset. He swirled the tumbler in his hand and raised it to take a sip of his cocktail. As his lips touched the glass, Lizzie's tongue touched her own top lip and she let out a slow breath.

As he was lowering his glass, he tuned his head to look at Lizzie. Without realizing, she had turned to face him and had been staring at him for several seconds. She flushed. Embarrassed, she turned quickly and looked back on the harbor.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?", the man spoke.

Lizzie tried to reply but her throat had become dry. She managed to nod, hoping he meant his question to be rhetorical.

She could tell he was now looking at her. She felt uneasy under his gaze. She turned to look at him, hoping he would break eye contact.

Their eyes locked for the first time, and Lizzie went cold. She felt as though her body had been thrust under water and the sights and sounds around her had become suddenly fuzzy and muffled. Her senses spun into overdrive, and she was suddenly very aware of the the slight rocking of the ship felt beneath her feet. His eyes looked more deeply into her than she was comfortable with, but she found herself unable to break his gaze. They were deep, brown, and penetrating, and she was transfixed.

"Hi, my name's Mackenzie," he said moving closer to her.

"Lizzie. Lizzie Fox," she forced herself to reply.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Lizzie Fox," Mackenzie said without averting his eyes.

She took a deep breath and felt a growing warmth between her legs as he said her name. She flushed again. She broke eye contact and turned her attention to the harbor
.
What the heck is happening
?
She tried to regain her composure.

"Lizzie, I think you and I are the only people here enjoying this sunset," he said taking another sip of his cocktail. "So how are you connected to this bunch of stiff suits," he said with a smile, nodding his head towards the large "Steele and Wickes" banner near the runway.

"My friend Nicole planned this party," she said.

"She did a fantastic job," he said turning around to gaze upon the ship while placing his elbows on the railing. "I'm sure Steele and Wickes are very impressed."

"Do you work for Steele and Wickes?", she asked.

He seemed amused by her question and she wondered why.

"I have a strong connection to Steele and Wickes," he said taking another sip.

Well that didn't answer the question
.
She had a pretty good idea that his connection probably involved giving orders rather than taking them. His eyes gave that away. They didn't look for acceptance. They looked for obedience.

"And what is it that you do Lizzie?", he asked.

"Interior design," said Lizzie.  She figured it wouldn't mean much to him, and wondered if he truly wanted to know the answer. To her surprise, she was wrong.

"Are you an independent designer, or do you work for a firm?", Mackenzie asked.

"I work for Wendle's Interiors right now on fourth street. Decorating this ship was the only independent work I've done in a while," she said motioning to the ship's decor. "Someday, I would love to own my own design business. That's probably a long way off though," answered Lizzie taking a sip of champagne.

Where the hell did that come from
?
It had always been her dream to work for herself, but she hadn't told anyone. It sounded weird to hear herself say it out loud, and Lizzie was surprised when it came out of her mouth. The thought of her own business excited her, scared her, and drove her.

"Why not now? Why are you waiting?", asked Mackenzie as he took another sip of his cocktail and raised his eyebrows.

Lizzie was surprised and a bit unnerved. She wasn't sure why he had asked, and even less sure that she wanted to talk to a complete stranger about her plans for the future. Still, his warm eyes drew her in and gave her confidence to continue.

"I need to get out there for a while first. When I do it, I want to do it right, you know? There is still a lot for me to learn," said Lizzie with a sigh.

Mackenzie raised his eyebrow and looked at her with quizzical grin.

"What?", asked Lizzie, smiling in response to his gaze.

"Nothing," he said waiving his hand dismissively. "It's just that most people say that they need money or blame people for the reasons they aren't going after something they want. It's just nice to meet someone like you," he said with a smile.

Lizzie paused for a moment as she took in his response
.
That was the weirdest compliment I have ever received
.
Still, in her mind she was battling. There was something about him that made her very comfortable, and that scared the hell out of her. The fact that he could make her feel this way in their first conversation was completely unnerving.

"So what is it that you want in life Mackenzie?", asked Lizzie, trying to deflect the questioning from herself.

Mackenzie laughed, "Well Lizzie, I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "This week has been crazy. To be honest, between you and this sunset, I am more relaxed right now than I've been in weeks," he said gazing out over the water. "So thank you for that."

After a long silence, he spoke again. "I love the water. It gets so claustrophobic in the city."

"Me too," said Lizzie, shifting her gaze to the setting sun. "I feel like I'm in a maze sometimes. Being out here definitely makes me breathe deeper."

"Exactly," said Mackenzie smiling. "That's exactly what it is. Do you spend a lot of time breathing deeper Lizzie?", Mackenzie asked with a grin.

"Not nearly enough," Lizzie answered with a smile. "Sitting with a bottle of Cabernet on a blanket and watching a sunset like this. That's my idea of breathing deeper."

She wondered if he even had a clue of what she was talking about. He didn't appear the type that would understand how a cheap bottle of wine, a blanket, and sunset could make a girl, truly happy.

"You bring the blanket, I'll bring the wine," he said smiling. "That sounds perfect."

Did he just ask me out?
 
He was very easy to talk to, and she was suddenly aware that either the champagne or her situation had made her step outside of the shell she had been living in since moving out of Sam's apartment. He made it easy. His warm eyes and boyish grin made her trust him in a way she wasn't sure of yet. She didn't want their conversation to end, and bit her lip when she saw the toll approaching. Mackenzie noticed him as well.

"Excuse me for a moment Lizzie," he said taking a step towards the troll.

They conversed briefly, and Lizzie strained to hear the conversation. The troll looked nervous, but something Mackenzie said seemed to reassure the man. Then, the man seemed to be giving him directions as Mackenzie looked at him with a surprised smile. They shook hands and Lizzie wondered how they were connected. Maybe Nicole knew.

The troll departed quickly, and Mackenzie returned to Lizzie.

"I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance Lizzie Fox," Mackenzie said reaching out his hand. "But I have some urgent business that I need to attend to." She didn't want him go go. She wanted to drink him in, and desired more of him than the taste she just received.

"My pleasure," she said stretching out her hand to take his.

His hand was soft and warm, yet his handshake firm and deliberate. He smiled politely, and held her hand a bit longer than customary before turning to walk away. She watched him stride down the runway and disappear into the back of a dark green antique car. His driver seemed surprised to see him, and jumped out of his seat to open the rear door.

As she watched the car drive away, the world came back into focus, and and her pulse began to slow. Her champagne had gotten warm, but she didn't care. She downed the rest of her glass and hurried inside to find Nicole.