The Dating Effect

Tiara

“What on earth are you thinking?” Melody attepmtps to infuse her tone with criticism but she is betrayed by the unmistakable undertone of excitement that bobbles in her voice.

“It’s totally nothing, Mel.”

“Nothing?” she is slightly taller than me so I have to walk faster to keep up with her steps as we stride down the hallway to the Grand Ballroom, where all the guests are meeting. “You dating Ryan is not nothing. Gurl, he was your sister’s boyfriend.”

“'Was’ being the operative word here.”

“So what? He dumps her ass and all of a sudden he’s into you?”

“Mel, they broke up two years ago, and is it so hard to believe that Ryan can actually want to be with me?” Even I don’t believe it as the words comes out of my mouth.

She shrugs her toned shoulders. “Actually nah, I mean you cute and all but babes, this is Ryan. Ryan Shelby. And you don’t want to play with fire. You don’t want to mess with Ciara now do you?”

Technically, that’s the whole plan.

“We’re just y’know taking things slow. And besides it’s still new so we barely even know each other.”

She gives me a skeptical look. “First, you don’t ‘barely’ know each other. You’ve know Ryan for six years. And second, you’re already in a relationship with a guy you believe you barely know? That’s a hard sell for you.”

I understand her skepticism. It was almost impossible for me to date in college and when I finally did, I broke it off two months later because I felt we didn’t know each other that well. My dating life after school hasn’t experienced any progress either.

I give her what I hope is a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not wrong to want to try things out. Test the waters.”

Even though those waters are dangerously hot.

Her excitement wins over and she gives me a sly grin that gets me grinning back. “Dammit,” she squeals, “Who woulda thought? Anyway, girl look, asides from everything I just said, I love that you’re outta your shell. Who would’ve thought it only needed Ryan Shelby to do what I’ve been trying to do for years.”

“And what’s that?”

“Try to get you a damn man.” She does a small dance. “Oh Ryan is indeed the perfect man. I mean for starters he’s got the perfect body.”

“Oh geez, Mel, just now you were talking ‘bout how it’s unfair to Ciara.”

“That was me trying to be logical and that is so not my specialty. My specialty is looking good enough to eat!”

My shoulders shake as I laugh over her statement. She is right, she does look good though, in a short white dress that complements her mahogany skin and her hair in a clean ponytail. I had only managed to pull on an apple blossom strap dress and wrap my hair in what I hope is a pretty bun before she pulled me out of the suite.

I sober up. “Damn it, you’ve only been gone for two weeks and I missed you so much.”

“Gurl, I’ve only been gone for two weeks and you’ve already started dating Ryan Shelby. Don’t underestimate the power of two weeks.”

She pushes the door to the ballroom open and our conversation is swallowed by the chatter in the room.

It is a big hall, with several crystal chandeliers decorating the high ceilings above me, basking the room in a golden glow. The air is thick with the scent of flowers and expensive wine, and elegant drapes frame the tall windows, filtering the last rays of the sunset. There is a huge fancy dining table in the middle with a Maitre d’Hotel and an entire waitstaff arranging the meal courses on the table.

Looking around, I notice there are at least thirty guests present in the room, out of the hundred guests expected, all of them dressed in fancy attires and hairdos and I only know maybe a half of them. Looking down at my dress, I’m glad I picked this dress, it fits my upper form and gives me a classy look. I hope.

There is Aunty May from mom’s side and some of my distant uncles and cousins that I barely remember. Then there is a bunch of relatives from Donald Lempton’s side – it’s easy to recognize them from the aristocratic set of their nose. I can’t see Ciara anywhere.

I can’t spot Ryan either. When he left the suite, I just figured he’d be here. What if they’re together, and she is begging him to change his mind? Ciara always gets her way. What if at this moment they are …

“Tiara!” Across the crowd, a little to my right, somebody thunders my name and I whip around to see a man sauntering towards me through the small crowd. He has the same brown hair as me, the same big hazel eyes, and when he smiles, it is almost a reflection of mine.

“Dad!” 

Grinning from ear to ear, he pulls me into a bear hug, crushing me, and for a second I inhale his outdoorsy scent. “Oh God, Tee, I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

He holds me at arms length, looking me over with pride in his eyes. “You’ve changed so much, Tee. Geez, you let your hair grow longer.”

“Yeah.” No one ever looks at me the way my dad does, like I’m the biggest achievement in his life. I hug him again, feeling suddenly emotional.

“It suits you.” He says.

“Nice to see you, Mr. James,” Melody interrupts, “Tee, imma go see some guests and meet you during dinner.”

I nod to her and turn back to my father again. “You’ve not changed at all. How’s Africa treating you?”

“It was the best experience. But let’s not talk about work now, let’s talk about you? What’s going on with the studio.”

I spend the next ten minutes locked in a heartfelt chit-chat with my father. He wanted to know about my whole life in those ten minutes and I decide to give him a short run-down of everything going on somehow managing to exclude Ryan. Not like there is much to say anyway.

“I’m going to say hi to mom,” I tell him after the rundown, “See you at the dinner.”

My mother is at one part of the hall, engaged in a conversation, with Aunt May and cousin Amy. She looks up when she sees me and a smile passes through her lips.

“Tiara, come here,” she pulls me in for a brief hug first then passes me onto Aunt May, who hugs me and mutters an excuse to leave.

Amy pulls me into a hug too, her hair caressing my shoulders. “It’s nice to see you, Tee” she smiles, then bounds off to the other guests.

Left alone together, my mother regards me in fond silence. She has always been a sophisticated woman, short blond hair and a perfect posture. She has on a fancy blouse and dark pants that gives her the aura of the most important person in the room. Not like she needs the clothes to assume that role.

“You let your hair grow longer,” she comments, still regarding me.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

“I could. It makes you look younger. Innocent. Try bangs next time, it’ll give you a sophisticated look.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She looks at me, hard. “What are you doing, Tiara?”

“What?”

“I heard. This is a celebrity wedding, there are cameras everywhere. The Shelby boy? I mean I understand the appeal but couldn’t you find someone else? Anyone else?”

I swallow. I feared she would say this, so I give her a rehearsed answer that now sounds stupid to my ears. “The heart wants what it wants mom.”

“Ciara is—”

“Getting married. To someone else. Why should who I date affect her?”

She exhales and her voice gets hard. “This is disastrous, Tiara. Some people might even consider it a scandal.”

I sigh. “Is that why you were excited to see me mom? To call me out on my dating life and comment on my hair?”

“No, no Tiara, no,” she takes my hands in hers, caressing, “I’ve really missed you baby. You never come home anymore.” Her voice has gone soft all of a sudden. My mother gets like that, shifting between hot and cold like the channels on a cable.

“Georgia is pretty far from New York, mom.”

“I know but, it’ll be really nice to have you with me.”

“You have Ciara there,” although she lives in New York like the rest of us, Ciara goes to Georgia all the time, she practically lives there.

She looks down at her hand, then her gaze shifts to the center of the hall. “It’s just not the same.”

I follow her gaze to the center. There is Ryan, in a jean trousers and black shirt that hangs three buttons open in his own fashion.

And he is in a heated conversation with Ciara.

My heart clenches.

Crap! Good job, Ryan, making me look stupid in front of my mother.

I remember how he almost kissed me for the sake of a camera and my frown deepens.

From this vantage point, they look great together; a perfect contrast, light and dark harmoniously intertwined. Her blond hair beautifully complements his dark locks, her light sun-kissed skin providing a stunning backdrop to his deeper, richer California/New York tan. The perfect couple.

Her gaze meets mine, and for a moment we lock eyes. Then with a subtle smile, she begins to make her way over to us.

Blond hair, a slender body draped in a sequence white gown with thigh-high slits up the front, tanned skin, and that aristocratic nose – it’s no wonder Ryan couldn’t get her off his mind.

How stupid can I be? Thinking for a second that I can compare with that – all that Ciara-Lemptons glory.

“Tiara,” her voice is sultry, and smooth like rich honey, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You invited me, sis.”

“And,” she continues like I hadn’t spoken, “I didn’t think you’re so utterly incapable of finding someone on your own that you’re willing to scrounge through my leftovers,” her voice takes on a bitter edge I know all too well, “if I didn’t want him there’s a reason but hey I guess you’ll take anyone who’ll have you.”

Ouch! Even after years of experience, her words still hits me square in my belly.

I let out a subtle gasp.

“Not here, Ciara,” our mother hisses, “not now.”

No! What is the point of moving away and being on my own, away from all of them, what is the point of changing if I still let her get to me like this?

Aiming, to wipe the smug look off her face I give her a small smile of my own, “he dumped you, Ciara,” I say, keeping my voice even, “not the other way round.”

Her face darkens and she takes a sharp breath, ready to unleash another verbal blow but just in time, Ryan appears beside me, his confident stride and protective stance diffusing the tension. His hand wraps reassuringly around my waist and I feel my shoulders relax. I know it’s all an act, and I try to stop my automatic reaction to him, but my body quivers in response.

“Nice to see you, Grace,” he drawls. Then he nods to Ciara, keeping on a cool expression, “once again, this has been a pleasure. We’ll go take our seats now.”

He guides me forward, till we’re practically in the center of the hall, the center of attention as more eyes turn to stare.

The glare of camera flashes assaults my eyes once more, a kaleidoscope of light bursting from every direction as photographers scramble to get the perfect shot. It’s like whenever Ryan touches me, an alarm goes off in their heads.

I feel an overwhelming urge to escape, to shrink away and conceal myself in a quiet secluded corner, far removed from the intense scrutiny and suffocating attention that’s currently focused on me. It’s all just too much.

But just as I’m about to back away from the lights, Ryan’s hold on my waist tightens, drawing me closer to him.

Leaning down to my ear, he kisses my hair softly and whispers, “Embrace it, Tee.”

Blinking, I remember his words from my apartment;

‘All those years of being invisible, Tee, I’m offering you a chance, not only to share the spotlight, but to take it and to be the spotlight. To be the center of attraction. To get back at Ciara.’

To be the spotlight.

Right now in the center of this great hall, with thirty-something different guests looking at me, and dozens of cameras flashing in my direction, I am the spotlight.

And Ciara is back there where I was, in the corner.

I am the spotlight.

And I sure as hell love it.