by Jo Willow
I started laughing and he gently pulled me from the limo before he wrapped his arm around me and rested his hand on my hip. It took me a second to see it for what it was. He was protecting me. I looked up at him and found him looking down at me. The cameras flashed like crazy, capturing our moment. I’d have to stop on my way home in the morning and grab the papers. I wanted to see that picture.
He responded with “hello’s” at the appropriate time, his CEO smile plastered firmly in place. I knew the difference now, I was beginning to understand the man.
I thought the attention would diminish once we got inside. I was sadly mistaken. The place was filled with beautiful people and my blinking resumed. Deacon used his free hand to signal a waiter and soon we were both holding champagne flutes. He stayed glued to my side, his hand resting possessively on my hip. To avoid standing directly in front of him, I snaked my arm around him and my hand rested lightly on his back. When he noticed it there, he turned to me, a question in his eyes. I took a sip of champagne and did my best to look nonchalant.
“Convenience.”
He smiled in understanding and continued to lead me through the crowd. He stopped in front of a doorway, and waited to give someone our names. I took the opportunity to peek inside and gasped. The tables were draped with gold colored tablecloths and small domed candles sat in the middle of each. A large space had been cleared in the center for dancing, and a string quartet played softly in the background. Tuxedos and gowns added a touch of luxury and importance to the room, the crystal chandeliers making various jewelry shimmer. I was in awe of the space and the occasion. Something magical was happening here and tonight, I was in the company of the wizard.
People turned to stare when we entered the room and as much as I tried to convince myself I was mistaken, I knew that was not the case. Women openly gaped and men raised their glasses in our direction. Whether they were toasting him or me, I wasn’t certain and I didn’t want to think about it, if I’m being honest. Deacon was keeping me grounded and as long as he was there, so was the magical bubble. I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that if we separated, all bets were off.
He led us around the room as if he did this everyday. I was impressed and my biographer’s mind filed this away for future reference. He owned this room and people waited their turn to greet him and to greet me by association. He made proper introductions, never leaving me out. He introduced me as his “date” and I didn’t correct him the first time he did it, so that was the term for the evening. I understood that it meant nothing, it was easier than explaining I was observing as his biographer. I grew comfortable at his side.
I have a theory that applies here. Is it me, or do you find that things tend to go down the toilet with an extra flourish the minute you get comfortable? I think it’s because you get complacent. You stop checking the exits or the floor ten feet in front of you. You think you’re home-free, and then wham. There they are.
I didn’t even notice them until we were almost on top of them and it was too late to distract Deacon and lead him away. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, they’d already seen us. Let me be specific. My parents - who are also major contributors - were staring at what appeared to be a personal relationship between one Deacon Sloan - wealthy eligible bachelor - and their daughter. Not the obvious beautiful daughter mind you, but the verbose, goofball, clumsy daughter. This rated right up there with mom’s cleaning lady leading George Clooney around by a nipple ring. You laugh, but I’m deadly serious here. To make matters worse, Deacon was floating down a line of people, blindly walking right into their web.
We were four couples away and my parents were watching every nuance of every interaction. They resembled two afghan hounds trying to figure out the Hadron Collider. I knew that escape was futile, I was hoping to minimize damage and save my fledgling friendship with Deacon. We were doing so well and I had high hopes for this book. I was already working on my opening remarks. If they blew this for me in the average parental way, I swear I would crawl into a hole and bury myself.
Deacon was deep in conversation and I didn’t have it in me to be rude. I lightly tapped him on the back. Nothing. I ran my hand down his back to his waist. He glanced at me and smiled, then resumed his conversation. Damn it. I squeezed his waist and he squeezed mine in return. Did he think I was flirting? Really?
The next couple in line jumped into the conversation and we took two steps to the left; two steps closer to death by embarrassment. I began to sweat. No wait. Ladies in expensive evening gowns don’t sweat, they perspire. I was perspiring like a nun in a strip bar. My life was flashing before my eyes because I could hear the assumptions that were swirling in my mother’s mind. She wore them like a banner in her eyes.
We were coming down to the wire and I went for it. I glanced quickly behind us and seeing the coast was clear, I pinched Deacon on the ass. Now THAT got his attention. His eyes flew to me and it was him that was blinking this time. While I had the advantage, I leaned into him and whispered as quickly as I could.
“My PARENTS are right there and they’re going to assume we’re together. Do NOT take them seriously Deacon. Please.”
I leaned back and reinforced my plea with my eyes. Oh sweet baby Jesus what I saw next made my blood turn to ice and my ovaries harden into diamonds. He narrowed his eyes and playful Deacon made an appearance. The dimples deepened and he actually waggled his eyebrows at me. If I knew Morse Code, I’d have known I was blinking, “I will fucking kill you” in rapid succession, over and over.
I was still blinking when I found myself standing directly in front of my father, Deacon was in front of my mother. All three were looking at me. Waiting. I stuttered and blinked before I regained control of my vocal cords and sighed.
“Brian and Catherine Lincoln, Mom and Dad, this is Deacon Sloan, my...erm...date.”
Deacon beamed as he kissed my mother’s cheek and shook my father’s hand.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Our Dorothy has said nothing but wonderful things about both of you and I’ve been looking forward to this. I was beginning to think we were going to have to take a long weekend and come to Connecticut to make this happen!”
My mother was ready to pick out a china pattern and my father was mentally ordering the “It’s a Boy” cigars. I was trying to decide if Deacon should be buried in the three-piece suit or the tux. He was staring at me innocently, waiting for me to top THAT one. I narrowed my eyes at him and he continued grinning, even going so far as to tilt his chin at a jaunty angle.
Challenge accepted Deke. Prepare for battle.
He knew something was up when he felt me relax and smile in return. I saw his smile falter minutely and his grip on my waist tightened. Too little too late I’m afraid. I was taking no prisoners.
I leaned up and took his earlobe in my ear, tugging slightly. I felt him stiffen beneath my grasp, but I was just warming up. I leaned back slightly and placed my free hand on his chest. He looked down at my hand and I smiled at my parents who were beside themselves. I directed my words to Deacon while I winked at my parents.
“Deacon, baby, if you wanted to meet my parents that badly, all you had to do was say so. I didn’t realize things were moving along that quickly.”
My mother grabbed him in a hug reserved for survivors clutching life preservers, and my father grabbed his hand behind my mother’s arm and started pumping as if he were priming a well. His eyes shot to mine in a state of abject terror and I grinned and licked my index finger, then dragged it in a downward motion through the air as if scoring a point. The Master was not amused and I swallowed hard.
I barely heard him promising something or other because I was plotting my escape. I saw a red exit sign above a door and made it my focal point. I promised my stilettos retirement if they’d get me out of there and I made my move.
Smiling and nodding like a bobblehead, I was almost there when I felt my arm nearly jerked from the socket. I flew into a hard body and looked in
to the eyes of the Devil himself. Oh his lips were smiling, but his eyes said something completely different.
“Dance with me Dorothy. Now.”
There was no room for argument or delay, it was time to pay the piper.
He pulled me onto the dance floor and put his arm around me like a steel band. I was not going anywhere until he was done with me. He took my hand and started moving. I’d taken dance lessons growing up so I knew how to follow his lead and we danced gracefully together. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t exactly Fred and Ginger, but we weren’t Fred and Wilma either. It was pleasant and easy. Deceptively so. I swallowed hard and he pulled me closer so that he didn’t have to yell. Anyone watching would think we were like any other couple there that night. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
I scanned the crowd as we spun in a wide circle, waltzing with a dozen or so other couples. I looked for my parents but they were nowhere to be found. I wasn’t fooling Deacon though, he saw right through me.
“They’re of no help to you now, they left to peruse the exhibits.”
“Oh. Deacon? Are you angry with me?”
His eyelid began to twitch and that jaw flexing thing he does became prominent. I furrowed my brow because he started it. I punctuated my next remark by jabbing my index finger into his chest with each word.
“If you hadn’t egged me on, we could have escaped. But no. Mr. I’ll-Show-You just had to dangle the carrot in front of them.”
He grabbed my finger and held my hand against his chest.
“Carrot? What carrot? I was being friendly!”
“Friendly? You were talking to the parents of your date, Mr. Rich Eligible Bachelor. What the hell were you thinking Deacon? I mean really. My poor mother is out there right now debating ivory over white and my father’s wondering if the Country Club is free for a September reception. I know these people! They want grandchildren and they want them last week!”
“Don’t be a drama queen Dorothy, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Wasn’t that bad? You offered them your company over a weekend in Connecticut. By the way. How did you know I was from Connecticut?”
“It was in your file.”
“My what?”
I could tell he was uncomfortable and he could tell I was not going to let this go.
“Your file. I have everyone I work closely with investigated thoroughly. Corporate Espionage is a very real threat in my world Dor’. I can never be too careful.”
“Corporate Espionage? You thought I’d come in and steal your secrets? Are you serious? Pierce loves me Deacon. I could walk in and start asking him questions and I’ll bet you a grand that he’d tell me anything I wanted to know. I wouldn’t have to steal anything. What else do you know about me?”
“Everything.”
“Everything? You mean like, everything? What’s my size?”
“Dress or shoe?”
“Holy fuck me sideways. You really are a piece of work. You know that? You obviously knew my address before I told you, why didn’t you just say so?”
He looked down and I could see his ears turning red. Something about what I asked embarrassed him, but how much more embarrassed could he be? The man knew my bra size for pity’s sake.
“Spill it Deacon. I’ll find out anyway if you don’t. You’re not the only rich kid in town you know.”
The song changed and we continued dancing. He wasn’t going anywhere until I found out what had him flustered.
“About your address...”
“What about my address Deacon?”
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Nope. You have a tendency to make me mad on purpose. Why would I promise such a thing?”
“Okay, promise you won’t hurt me?”
“Fair enough. I won’t injure you at the gala. Tell me what you’re hiding!”
“We live in the same building.”
“We what?”
“You live one floor below me. I live in the penthouse.”
“Of course you do.”
He danced me around the room and I said nothing in response. Finally he couldn’t bear the silence any longer.
“Say something Dorothy. You’re killing me here.”
“How long did you know about this and were you ever planning on telling me?”
“I had the potential to know when I got the file a week ago, but I didn’t pay attention until you told me your address. Was I planning to tell you? Of course I was. Not only is it handy for our business endeavor, but I’ve now got a buddy in the building! How cool is that?”
I raised one eyebrow at him and internally debated the “no hurting him” promise I made.
“A ‘buddy in the building’?”
“Absolutely! Just think about it a second and you’ll see the benefits. If you need anything, I’m one floor above you. Same goes the other way. Need someone to watch a movie with? Tap on the ceiling with your broom or call me. You’ve got my cell number now. I make killer popcorn and I’ll even compromise with every movie being a chick-flick.”
“That’s very magnanimous of you Deacon.”
“I know. I’m that kind of guy. You’re gonna love having me for a neighbor. You’ll see.”
I was reasoning it out in my mind. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad having Deacon Sloan as a neighbor. The guy did make me laugh - most of the time, and he could help with heavy lifting. Plus, it would make interviewing him a hell of a lot easier. We could get together on Saturday or Sunday mornings over coffee and relax while we talked, versus my interrupting his workday to ask the routine questions. This might work after all.
I was starting to smile and he was starting to smile back, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head and a striking brunette dressed in midnight blue grinned a smile that I was sure some dentist had sent his kid to college on.
“May I cut in?”
“Sylvia?”
Deacon said her name as if it were a caress and I felt my stomach bottom out. I took a step back and she took my place. As simple as that. She stepped in and took my place.
I didn’t look back, I couldn’t. I kept the phoney smile plastered to my face (I was learning loads from Deacon already) and I kept on walking. I found the table with our name tags on it and took a seat. It felt good to get off of my feet. Then I waited.
Thirty minutes turned to forty. When everyone began to take their seats and I noticed that Deacon was no longer on the dance floor, I rose and made my way toward the exit before everyone sat down and it became obvious. A temporary coat-check had been set up and I wondered if the bathrooms were near there as well.
As I drew near, I heard voices coming from around a corner near the bathrooms. One was Deacon’s. I assumed the other belonged to Sylvia.
“I’m game if you are, but what about your date?”
“Dorothy? She’s not technically my date. Not really. She’s nobody. She’s writing my biography and has to follow me around. Don’t worry about her.”
“She won’t follow you to my place will she?”
“Not if we’re fast enough. Let’s go.”
I couldn’t listen to anymore, I’d heard quite enough. I leaned against the wall and took off my shoes, one at a time. Everyone was inside awaiting dinner, and I knew that by now my “date” had slipped out the back. I started toward the front, then remembered the cameras. A server with an empty tray walked past and I grabbed her arm.
“Excuse me, I don’t want to be a bother, but is there another way out of here? I have a terrible headache and I’d like to avoid the cameras.”
She smiled and took pity.
“Of course. Follow me.”
I did and ended up going out a side door that the caterers were using. I walked to the back of the building, ruining my stockings in the process. The night was warm and I didn’t care in the least. I pulled my cell from my purse and called my sister.
“Mel’, can you come get me please? I’ll explain when you get here, just get here q
uickly. I’m at the back of the building, bye.”
I hung up before she could ask too many questions and sat down on a bench. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but it was getting close. I thought about all the effort I put into looking like his “type”. I thought about his reaction and the feel of his arm around my waist. I remembered how he charmed my parents and our discussion while we danced. “Neighbors” and “Buddies” and playful banter that meant absolutely nothing, because I was nobody. He couldn’t even tell her I was just a friend that accompanied him this evening. I was nobody. He left me there to fend for myself without a goodbye or an explanation of any kind. I saw headlights slowing and I walked to the curb while my sister’s Lexus pulled up in front of me. I slid into the passenger seat and thought to myself, “And people wonder why I have trust issues”.
Chapter Four
I stayed to myself on Saturday. My sister left early, seeming to understand that I needed to be alone. That’s one thing about Melody. She knows when to push and when to step back.
I refrained from my daily run, because it would mean leaving the apartment and there was a chance of running into “him”. Likewise, I abstained from the gym. I ordered in food and settled down to work. I had enough notes to start an outline, trying to do it without malice would be the hard part. I had to try though, because if I found it impossible, I’d have to let him know he needed to find someone else. I would never compromise my professional integrity for the sake of piece of shit CEO scumbag playboy. Nope. Not me.
By five o’clock, my phone was making me mental. He started calling around noon and he never stopped. Wait. There was that brief interlude between two and three when I imagine he grabbed lunch, but he was right back at it by three. I set the phone to go directly to voicemail so I wouldn’t have to hear the incessant ringing and that helped a little, but not much. He started ringing my office phone and I had to unplug it from the wall.
By seven, things had settled enough that I found myself napping on the sofa in the sun. The warmth from the rays made me feel like a kitten in a sunbeam and I just curled up and fell asleep. The sun would be setting soon, so I’d placed a comforter nearby and my head rested on a pillow from my bed. I was comfy and thinking of nothing for the first time all day. Sleep claimed me quickly.