Chapter 6

Oliver

Taking a reprieve from the main dance floor, we stroll through the rest of the building noting some of the amazing costumes others have chosen for tonight. We’ve seen everything from zombie ballerinas to murderous nuns to eighties punk rock skeletons to angels with sparkling tutus. Every costume is unique, and some extremely impressive in the amount of detail and work put into them.

We make our way into one of the rooms serving appetizers to grab a quick bite, bumping shoulders with several others as we wait our turn. Standing in line, Scarlett and I say hello to a couple dressed as movie stars from the seventies, as well as a man dressed as Robin Hood and his date in a unique butterfly masquerade costume. As Scarlett laughs with them all, I snap a few pictures of her on my phone. She’s in her element, being the social butterfly. I chuckle to myself because she should be wearing the butterfly costume her new friend is wearing. How apropos.

What I fail to notice while taking pictures is one of the skeleton crew staff members carrying a bowl of marinara sauce to the table to accompany the mozzarella sticks. In her chat with her new friends, Scarlett flings her arms out, hitting the crew member and causing him to spill the marinara sauce all over her dress.

Though half of his face is covered in face paint, his expression is nonetheless horrifically remorseful. The side of his face not covered in makeup turns ashen and his body stiffens.

“I am sooo sorry, Ma’am,” he says with a tremor to his voice. He brings a hand to his forehead. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I just did—”

“Stop right there.” Scarlett lifts a finger, her jaw clenched tight as she stares at the man. With marinara sauce now dripping down the front of her dress, she turns her head around as far as she can to try and see the back of her dress. Finally, she spins so the back of her dress is facing the frightened staff member and angles her head back beaming at him. “Can you do the back as well?”

The couples around us look on, a bit shocked, but I throw my head back in laughter.

That’s my girl.

The crew member shakes his head, confounded. “Ma’am I…I don’t unders—”

“Oh, my apologies. Allow me to explain,” she tells everyone around us because yep, she’s that girl. “My fiancé left me at the altar last week.”

Looks of sympathy and concern all around.

“And I know, I should probably be crying in my bedroom surrounded by cartons of ice cream and alcohol, but I’m not, because if I’m being honest with myself, he didn’t love me the way I deserve to be loved. He never supported the life I wanted to have for myself. It was always about his career. His money. His life. So, it’s all good. I’m here celebrating the honeymoon we should’ve had and it’s on his dime because he already paid for it.”

Our new friends laugh with her, some even giving her a high five.

“So, I’m trashing this dress! The perfect dress that at one point meant so much to me. The dress I was supposed to wear when I became a wife. The dress I’ll take off at the end of the night and burn because who would want to keep this memory? So go on,” she tells the crew members. “Please, you’re going to get a new bowl of sauce anyway. Drip the rest of that on the back for me.”

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Absofuckinlutely.”

We all stand by watching the crew member artfully drip the rest of his sauce down the back of Scarlett’s dress before he scurries back to the kitchen for another bowl.

The girl in the butterfly masquerade costume nods her approval. “For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is amazing.”

“Thank you very much.”

“I’m Polly, by the way.” She offers her hand. “I would hug you but…” She gestures to the sauce and Scarlett laughs, returning her handshake.

“No problem. Totally understand. Scarlett Dayne.”

“I’ve seen you a few times in my Insta feed. I really love your energy. Your always such a bright and positive person.”

“Doesn’t do us any good to spread hate, right?” Scarlett answers. “Anything but love and kindness is exhausting if you ask me.”

Polly nods. “So right.”

As we move up in the line, and grab a plate for our food, Scarlett asks Polly, “Hey have you tried these pot stickers? Are they good?”

“Oh my, gosh, yes! This is our second time through. They’re pork-filled and you must try them in this Szechwan sauce. It’s to die for!”

“Sold!” Scarlett laughs. “Thank you for the recommendation. It was lovely to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Hope you guys have fun tonight.” Polly and Robin Hood take their filled plates and head outside. After grabbing a few appetizers, we find a spot where we can eat and watch the rest of the action going on at the party. The DJ announces a costume contest and several people have lined up to participate.

I gesture to the group. “Who do you think will win.”

Scarlett studies the group of participants. “Hmm, my money is on either Medusa, or that guy dressed as Edward Scissorhands.”

“Mmm.” I nod. “I would have to agree. But that mime is definitely a crowd pleaser.”

“For sure.”

When we finish our light snack, I take Scarlett’s plate and throw away our trash and then take her hand back in mine. Quite frankly any reason to be touching her, to have my hands on her, is perfectly okay with me. “Where to next?”

She looks around and spots a sign at the bottom of the stairs with an arrow pointing to the second floor for VIPs to receive a special palm reading. Her eyes light up. “Ooh let’s do it! Our passes are VIP! You in?”

“You believe in that kind of stuff?” I ask, having never been into the whole cosmic-fortune-telling-zodiac kind of thing.

“I don’t not believe in it, I guess,” Scarlett answers. “I want to believe ghosts are real even though I’ve never actually seen one, so, you know…” She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I can believe in it. I’m at least curious to know what she has to say.”

How bad can it be?

“Then let’s do it.”

We climb the stairs to the second floor and follow one of the signs to a small nook area where an older woman sits at a small round table. She’s dressed in a ragged long purple dress with tiny silver and gold sparkly beads sewn in starry patterns. There are a few mixed metal and leather necklaces around her neck as well as a few metal bangle bracelets around each wrist. Her headband even matches her dress and the feathers hanging from her hair are a nice touch.

“Hello, my dears,” she greets us. “I had a feeling I would be speaking with you this evening.”

Sure lady. You clearly say that to everyone.

She motions for us to take the two seats opposite her, and once we’re seated and comfortable, she smiles at us, a few teeth missing but no worse for the wear.

“You would like a palm reading tonight, yes?”

Scarlett nods. “Yes, please. I’ve never had one done before.”

“Well, my name is Rowena and I will be your oracle for this evening. Now, which is your dominant hand?”

Scarlett gives Rowena her right hand and watches in awe as Rowena turns it over, examining and feeling her skin and then studying the lines on her palm for several quiet moments. She gives Scarlett’s hand a gentle squeeze and then presses along the sides.

“Ah, this hand has bounce to it,” she states. “This means you have a natural refinement about you and an energy loved by many.” She presses down on Scarlett’s fingers and tugs her thumb back slightly, nodding with each movement. “You show flexibility in your aura and you are very generous. Your pinky finger stands out from the rest of your hand. This means you are of strong business mind; you communicate well and are quite independent.”

“Now, let’s get to this beautiful palm.” Rowena brings a magnifying glass to Scarlett’s hand, tracing some of the lines in her palm. “Ah, yes, doors are opening for you, my dear. Prosperity and success look good for you.” She smiles and wipes her hand down Scarlett’s palm like she’s trying to soothe it, her brows furrowed. “I am sorry for the heartache you have endured for it was surely not your fault…“

Scarlett flashes me a confused glance but it’s not like her life hasn’t made headlines. Rowena could’ve known she was coming. She could’ve read about Scarlett’s failed wedding in any of the Hollywood media outlets.

“But rest assured, young one, people you care about will grow closer to you and you will live a long and very happy life. You will even gain a sister.”

“That’s impossible,” Scarlett whispers. “I’m an only child.”

Rowena pats Scarlett’s hand. “This line here tells me you are a late bloomer,” she says. “And while that might be sad news as a young girl, as an adult, you should know that the best is yet to come.”

Scarlett’s brows peak. “Well, that’s good to know.”

“You are a hopeless romantic and looking forward to your happily ever after.”

Internally I roll my eyes.

That’s too easy to say to a woman who is literally wearing a bridal gown right now.

“And I am happy to tell you, you will find love, but you will find it far from home. You tend to step into the water of your life with one foot out and one foot in, but my dear, I will tell you that you will gain all the things in life you most desire if you jump into that water with both feet.”

Finally, she lets go of Scarlett’s hand and sits back in her chair.

“Thank you, so much,” Scarlett says with a smile. I can already tell she’s trying to put all the pieces together to make sense for her.

Rowena nods and then lays her hand open toward me. “You next?”

“Uh, sure.”

I give her my left hand to study and she does so with much curiosity. She turns it over, her fingers smoothing over the lines of my palm, and then she shakes her head. “This is not your dominant hand, my son.”

Wow.

How did she know that?

“You’re right,” I tell her with a mischievous smile. “I was trying to trick you.”

Rowena laughs. “Happens all the time, but Rowena sees all and knows all.”

I switch hands and she takes a few moments to touch my hand, squeezing the sides and flexing my fingers this way and that.

“This is a strong hand. The energy of this hand is heavy but protective.” She traces a few lines on my palm. “These lines here, by your thumb. They are the bands of duty and responsibility. Yours are deeply etched.” She chuckles quietly. “You are strong and mindful but can be stubborn at times.”

Scarlett giggles next to me, the sound of her happiness putting me at ease. I like her laugh. I like her smile. I like it when she’s happy.

Really I just like everything about her.

“You have a managerial spirit that tells me you thrive in a position of responsibility…”

I’m not the Captain of the Stars for nothing.

“But emotionally you are sensitive. You don’t like to hide your feelings.”

Fuck, how much of me can she really see?

“You are not an overindulgent man. You prefer quality over quantity.”

Scarlett snickers next to me. “That’s what she said.”

Rowena pats my hand. “You have worked very hard to find yourself and you are confident in your strengths, but your personal life has taken a back seat to all other aspects of your life.”

You could say that again.

She looks me in the eye, holding my gaze for an uncomfortable moment before she smiles and nods as if we just spoke telepathically.

We didn’t. I swear.

“I see great things for you, my son.” She leans forward in her seat. “But heed what I say, for many who have come before you have chosen the path of disbelief and have therefore denied themselves their greatest joys.” Squeezing my hand, she covers it with her own and says to me, “Your love will not always be your passion. Your passion is not always your love. A family man you will be, with a supportive and rewarding partner by your side who will be your greatest cheerleader.”

When?

When is that supposed to happen?

She pats the top of my hand and then sits back in her chair smiling at the both of us. “It was a great pleasure meeting you both.”

I pull out a few twenty-dollar bills and leave the tip for her in the marked jar on her table.

“A pleasure meeting you as well,” Scarlett says with a slight bow. “And thank you very much for your time.” I give a curt nod to the woman and then take Scarlett’s hand leading us back downstairs.

Scarlett squeezes my hand. “Well, what did you think?”

“I think she said a lot of interesting things.”

“Your love will not always be your passion. Your passion not always your love,” she recalls what Rowena told me. “What do you suppose that means?”

“If I’m relating her words to my own life, I’m guessing she means hockey won’t always be my passion. Or that my passion for hockey won’t always be the most important thing in my life.”

Can’t believe I’m actually saying that out loud.

I live and breathe hockey right now.

Can’t imagine ever giving that up.

Though I suppose the day will come when my body gives it up for me.

And God knows I really would love a family of my own.

“That’s kind of deep,” she says. “You okay with hockey not being your life? I imagine it’s pretty damn important right now.”

“Of course. It pays the bills. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. But sometimes it’s not bad to be reminded that one day hockey won’t be my life anymore and what will I have then, you know? There are more important things in life than hitting a puck around the ice for points.”

Scarlett gasps playfully. “You better not let anybody hear you say that mister hockey star.”

“You’re right.” I drag my hand through my hair. “Think you can keep my secret?”

Scarlett rounds on me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I think if you kiss me, the secret moves from you to me. Then I become the secret keeper.”

“Ah. So that’s how it works?”

She nods. “Mhmm.”

“Perfect.” I lower my mouth to hers, releasing my secrets and passing them to the one person who I wholeheartedly believe would hold them and protect them for me for as long as I needed. Her soft tongue slides across my lips and dips inside my mouth and fuck if my body doesn’t want to react in every way possible.

On any given day I eat and sleep and breathe hockey.

But today, everything about the game of hockey is out the window.

Because I just want to eat, sleep, and breathe Scarlett Dayne.