Chapter Twenty Three

C: I’m here. Waiting outside.

B: OMW!

Cole straightened his jacket lapels, taking in the surroundings as he waited on the sidewalk.

The city blocks buttressing Von Gloot’s Academy were upscale middle-class neighborhoods boasting trendy cafes, historic homes, and stylish condos. It attracted young professionals, students, and faculty, creating a dynamic atmosphere with a strong sense of community.

Green spaces like small parks, tree-lined streets, and bike-friendly paths provided a relaxed, healthy lifestyle. The area often hosted farmers' markets, street fairs, and live music events, contributing to a lively yet sophisticated social scene.

Cole reflected on the effect an institute of higher learning could have, shaping the local demographic around it.

He stood in front of a row of French colonial-style terrace houses, which featured a charming blend of European sophistication and tropical adaptation. The exteriors were characterized by tall, narrow facades with shuttered windows, intricate wrought-iron balconies, and arched doorways, all painted pristine white.

Colonnaded verandas shaded the entrances, and small but well-kept gardens, enclosed by a low stone fence, gave the homes a welcoming yet private feel.

The street reeked of money and affluence.

“Hey there, hot stuff. Looking for a date?” A husky voice purred in Cole’s ear, making him jump.

Bella was there, smothering a giggle and looking hotter than a stolen tamale in an elegant cocktail gown draped off her stupendous curves like a sheath of snowy silk. The neckline plunged, cutouts showed her waspish waist, and a long side-slit ran up to her hip, revealing an expanse of shapely leg capped in glittering sandal heels.

“I believe I have found one.” Cole quipped. “God, Bella. You’re breathtaking.”

“Hm, bonus points for a speedy recovery.” The dancer’s coppery hair fell in salon-fresh ringlets down her back, and hints of make-up enhanced an already dazzling smile. “Thank you for the compliment. You clean up nice, too. Very James Bond debonair.”

Cole sure hoped so. His cream tux came with an outrageous price tag, but Krystal insisted after Rachael conveyed that the evening event was strictly white-tie formal.

“What is a white party anyway?” He asked, offering an elbow through which Bella slipped a lace-gloved hand. “The name could be interpreted in unflattering ways. It’s not the usual college kegger, I imagine.”

The lovely redhead laughed as they strolled arm-in-arm, her voice melodic and enchanting.

“No kegs tonight, sorry. And it’s more literal than you think. The origins are muddy, but François Pasquier, the notable perfumer, founded Le Dîner en Blanc de Paris in 1988, where the guests were required to wear all white.” The French rolled naturally off her tongue. “P Diddy held several in the 1990s, popularizing them in the black community. He claims the intention was to integrate hip-hop into the world of the mega-rich.”

“And why are we dressing like snowmen… pardon, snowpeople tonight?” Cole asked, impressed by her comprehensive explanation.

Bella was proving an engaging companion, more than just a pretty face and bombshell body.

“Because it’s the vogue thing to do. Half the people you’ll meet tonight are trendsetters and industry gurus. The rest are slaves to the latest fads and look-at-me influencer sorts.” She patted his bicep, fingers lingering. “These events can be terribly tedious, that’s why I requested your company. I only attend to support Farrah, and you make fine arm candy, hot stuff.”

“I’m pleased to be the lady’s accessory for the night.” Cole demurred. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Their steps led them back onto academy grounds. The fashion department soirée was hosted in the Gentileschi building, the same modernist glass and steel edifice where Krystal had arranged Lita’s photoshoot.

Small groups of attendees clad in white also drifted in that direction like ghosts flitting between the shadowy gardens and pathways.

“Not your best behavior, I hope, Bella whispered, tugging his arm into her bodacious bosom. “Let’s show these posers what a real party looks like.”

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Cole shielded his gaze from the sea of dazzling white packing the gallery.

“Can you see Farrah?” He asked over the music and crowd noises.

“No, but she’ll find us.” Bella snagged two flutes of bubbly off a passing waiter, downing hers as she handed him the other. “That girl is a shark, and these are her waters. I messaged her when we arrived.”

Gole followed her example, grimacing and wishing it were scotch or a decent beer. He’d never gained an appreciation for champagne.

The space had been transformed into a sleek all-white wonderland, with guests dressed in white attire. Soft lighting reflected off the décor, creating a sophisticated glow.

The DJ filled the gallery with rhythmic beats from an elevated booth, keeping the energy high. The bar, framed by glowing shelves of premium liquor, had been a lively hub where bartenders poured champagne and crafted cocktails.

Servers in crisp white uniforms moved through the masses, offering trays of gourmet canapés—smoked salmon blinis, burrata crostini, and truffle arancini. Upstairs, around Bella and Cole, guests lounged on plush seating, sipping drinks while overlooking the dance floor.

The dance floor was lively under flickering strobe lights. Laughter, conversation, and music had blended into an unforgettable, sophisticated yet electric celebration.

“This is… a lot.” Cole half-shouted to Bella, who was all but pressed against his side. His arm had found its way around her lissome waist at some point. “Louder than I expected, too.”

“This is the main area.” Her voice also raised. “There are outdoor areas where we can hear ourselves talk. Follow me.”

Taking his hand with a smile, Bella led them through the bustling crowd and out a pair of glass doors. The cool night air struck Cole, and he sighed in relief when they closed, muting the racket.

The balconies, bordered by potted gardens, afforded a splendid view of the campus at night. Clusters of attendees chatted, took selfies, and even smoked.

Cole fished out his Virginia Slims.

“Do you mind?” He asked, shaking the packet.

“Not at all.” Bella checked her phone. “Farrah’s extricating herself from a gaggle of would-be investors. She’ll join us in a bit. Though I’m glad we’re alone for now. I wanted to chat.”

Cole lit his cigarette, puffed, then exhaled a plume of blue-gray smoke. On the short walk over, their conversation had been amicable but hadn’t touched on anything more profound than a surface level.

They’d flirted a bit, testing boundaries and relishing the newness of their acquaintance. They shared a physical attraction; Cole would have to be blind to miss her appreciative glances, yet he still hesitated.

“Chatting is included in my arm candy service. You ordered the complete package and have my undivided attention, Bella.” He cocked a curious brow. “What’s on your mind?”

The thicc-bodied dancer flagged down another waiter carrying a tray of drinks, this one serving wine and spirits. Cole nabbed a bourbon while she chose Prosecco.

They clinked glasses and sipped before Bella inquired, “Cole, how did your last serious relationship end?”

He nearly sprayed whiskey at the unexpected question. It hit Cole like a punch to the gut. Memories of his first love, his high school sweetheart, Lisa, rushed in, gaping like an open wound. Acid bile scalded his throat.

“Ex-excuse me?” He coughed.

Bella appeared stricken by his reaction. Her face a mask of regret tempered by resolve. She took a deep breath and stood her ground.

“It’s not my intention to ambush you, Cole, but I need your answer. This is important to me.”

Cole didn’t respond immediately. He took in the beautiful redhead. Her stern expression and stiff posture were betrayed by a tremor in the hand holding her wine glass.

She was nervous, almost frightened of how he might react.

“She left me.” Cole confessed, pain stabbed his heart. Bella’s face fell in dismay. “Lisa, the first girl I ever loved, left me…”

“Wh-why?” Her voice hitched, confused.

“Because I told her to. No, I begged her to leave me. We had a high school romance, like a damn cliche. Head over heels, as only teenagers can be.” He took a long drag, staring into the distant past. “Then graduation came, and Lisa received an acceptance letter from Amherst. They offered her a partial scholarship in a great program. She was smart–really smart–but would have turned them down… for me. I couldn’t let her do that.”

Tears welled in Bella’s eyes, her drink forgotten.

“My prospects weren’t so bright. Art schools aren’t interested in track athletes. Nobody took the jock who likes to paint seriously.” Cole continued, bitterness infusing his words. “I was doomed to a life of mediocrity—a square peg trying to fit into the round hole of societal expectation. I would’ve been an anchor dragging Lisa down instead of letting her fly free. That’s not the man I wanted to be.”

The lump in his neck felt large as a grapefruit, **** off speech until Cole took another sip of bourbon. The amber liquor scoured his throat.

They remained frozen. The background music and chatter faded until they were alone in a personal cone of silence.

“This Lisa was your first before coming to college?” Bella whispered. “There weren’t any others?”

“She was my one and only. She was my everything. Losing her broke me… but it was the right thing to do.”

Cole made to leave. He wasn’t in the mood for an extravagant party and crowds of fake people anymore. He wanted to curl up in bed and let sleep banish the hurt.

“Don’t go, Cole. Please.” Bella touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry for pressing on such a painful topic. Please stay. I didn’t mean to ruin our evening.”

“Why ask then?” He shot back, suddenly resenting the interrogation. “Why lure me here? What was the point of making me relive that heartache?”

Glaring back at her, Cole saw tears on Bella’s cheeks. She shook with suppressed sobs. His anger leaked away, replaced by confusion.

“I’m sorry, truly. We aren’t so different; you and I. Rachael told me a little of your history, though she was unclear about the details. Miss Laurier didn’t say much the one time we talked, but… it doesn’t matter.” She drew in a ragged breath. “Cole, I had to know you were genuine. That you understand how fragile the heart is because… because mine was once shattered too.”

Her admission poleaxed Cole, stunning him in place. Like a wounded bird, she stood ****, baring her soul to him.

“I’ve been dancing since I could stand as a toddler. The music and physical motion bring me immense joy. When my parents realized my passion, they enrolled me in classes. The style or school of dance never mattered; my body flowed with the rhythm.

“I got accepted to a dance academy in high school. The instructors were wonderful and fostered my talent. I was a tiny waif of a girl, practicing alongside seniors until puberty struck.” She hiccuped, dabbing at her eyes. “I was an early bloomer and blossomed into womanhood far quicker than my classmates.”

“Bella…” Cole stepped toward the weeping redhead. She held up a hand to stop him.

“There are unhealthy archetypes among dancers: stick-thin ballerinas walking on their toes, feather-light ballroom performers whose partners can dip and spin them, even contemporary dance favors a slighter build for the leaps and falls. By the age of sixteen, my teenage body developed into what you see today. My fellow students were cruel in their criticism.”

Cole wanted to hold her. Comfort her. Tell Bella she was gorgeous, but she wasn’t done.

“They jeered, called me fat. Told me a future in hip hop as a ghetto booty dancer was all I’d amount to. Said my gross tits and ass would smother a dance partner. I surpassed them in grades and evaluations–I’d lost none of my ability or range of movement–yet the bullying persisted for two dreadful years before Raoul came into the picture.”

Cole immediately understood. He could read it in her quivering lip and balled fists.

Bella was a kindred spirit—another victim of Cupid’s capricious whims. The ache in his chest mirrored hers.

“He transferred from an academy in France. The most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. Tall, dark, and lean. He danced like the devil, bursting with energy and vigor. All the girls desired him, but Raoul chose me. I was smitten. Enchanted by his good looks, silver tongue, and undeniable talent.

“I was also foolish. Offering him my heart on a silver platter. A young lady’s heart is fragile, Cole. Our whirlwind romance lasted three months. I gave him everything… everything except my virginity. And in the end, he left me for another because of it. He completely destroyed me.”

Her hand dropped and Cole was immediately there, wrapping Bella in a fierce hug. She buried her face in his chest, tears blotting his shirt. Cole didn’t care. He could feel her shaking in his arms, wracked by the memory.

He didn’t say anything. Platitudes would’ve sounded hollow. Instead, he simply held the tormented soul and cradled her close. Forming a protective shell to shield her from the world, if only for a few fleeting minutes.

Cole stroked her coppery hair until the sobs subsided. She stayed snuggled against him, safe and warm.

“Thank you.” Bella whispered. “Thank you, and I’m sorry–”

He hushed her, “Shhhh, there’s no need to apologize. I get it, and you were right. We’ve both been fractured by our pasts. But you know what?”

“Wha-what?”

“Sometimes, after we are broken, we can reforge ourselves into something stronger.”

“I like that.” Bella snuffled. “Something stronger…”

“A fine sentiment, I agree.” Said a voice behind them. “You continue to show hidden depths, Cole.”

They found Farrah standing there, dressed in a sleek ivory ball gown. The Bedouin beauty looked stunning, and a fortune in diamonds glittered on her ears, neck, and wrists.

She gestured around the now-empty balcony. “I shooed away the busybodies once it became evident you two were having a moment. If you don’t object, Cole, I will take my friend aside to make her presentable again. These piranhas delight in any hint of weakness. I cannot abide that.”

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A big thank you to the anonymous supporter who commissioned this fun tale. You know who you are. Chapters are posted on my BuyMeACoffee page weeks in advance. Supporters can read them for the price of a single cuppa joe. Cheers for reading!