Chapter 16
As the high school football season reached its climax and the college bowl games loomed, Ray was working harder than ever. He decided he wasn't quite so thrilled with the life of a sportswriter after all. Attending so many sporting events soon got to be a drag, especially when it became obvious the paper wasn't going to let up on any of his other job requirements. The good news was that he was getting a lot of good feedback for his writing for the first time in a long time. He seemed to have rediscovered his voice, and writing was fun again.
He had received the invitation to Victoria's fund-raising event before Thanksgiving. He delayed mentioning it to Marcella until it was almost too late. The week after Thanksgiving, they ran on Longboat Key and then ordered pizza delivered to Marcella's house. While they were sitting on the lanai waiting for the pizza, he said, “I feel like a jerk for waiting so long to mention this; I have no excuse other than that I am an idiot. Anyway, Victoria Caruthers is hosting a charity event to raise money to expand the children's wing of the hospital. It won't be a Palm Beach ball, because Victoria a serious fund-raiser as opposed to a party-girl who uses charities as an excuse to throw a bash. Her fund raisers are all about raising money for the intended charity. It won't be opulent. It will be expensive. They will squeeze us for money at every turn all night long. I know that sounds like positively the most wonderful evening imaginable, but I want to go and I would love for you to be my date.”
She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. She said, “Honestly, I have never heard such a delightful proposition, one I absolutely could not imagine rejecting. Let me guess. Victoria wanted to invite me directly but figured that if she invited you, you would invite me to be your guest. That way Victoria can hit us both up for donations.”
He nodded, “That's pretty much the way it was presented to me.”
She looked at him strangely, “You like that old battle-axe, don't you?”
“Yes, I do. I really would appreciate it if you would give her a chance. She is different from most of the other old bats in her circle. She's tough and smart and direct. She calls it like she sees it. I am sure that she can employ plenty of cattiness when the situation calls for it but she strikes me as being more of an in-your-face kind of person as opposed to someone who would stab you in the back. When it comes to raising money for the community, she is without peer.
“I know I made it sound bad, but it really won't be all that awful. I know the caterer Victoria uses; the food will be fabulous. There will be music by the best big-band orchestra around.” He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Best of all, you'll get to see the unusual sight of me dressed up in a tux.”
She laughed, “That would be worth a few hundred dollars all by itself.”
He frowned and said, “Oh, yeah??”
She asked, “How much are the tickets?”
“I've already bought the tickets. That and the cash bar will be my contribution to the Cause. Should you wish to make a donation, it will go straight into the kitty.”
She nodded, “Okay, since you asked so nicely and since it is for a good cause, I will play Cinderella to your Prince Charming and I will make a donation that will be large enough to make Victoria Caruthers happy but not so large as to attract any undue attention from people who think I should not have any money. If we can work it out, I would like to make my contribution anonymously. Maybe I can work that out with Ms. Caruthers or someone on her committee.”
She cocked her head and looked at him with an appraising eye, “Do you own a tux?”
He shook his head and laughed, “Of course not. I already have reserved a rental.”
It was her turn to shake her head, “Oh, no you don't. There is a big difference between a rented tux and a tux owned by and tailored to the wearer. I'm not going to a party with a man in rented clothes. Stand up.”
“What?”
She hurried into the bedroom and was back in a flash with a tape measure. “I said, 'Stand up.'” He stood and she took his measurements like a professional tailor. She looked at the clock and said, “I can never figure this stuff out. What day and time is it in Hong Kong?”
He looked at the clock, “Yesterday afternoon.”
She clicked open her cell phone and found a number in the contacts. A few minutes later she was giving someone his measurements and ordering a black tuxedo for rush delivery by the end of the following week, to allow time for local alterations if necessary. When she was finished, he asked, “How much is that going to set me back?”
She smiled, “Consider it an early Christmas present from me. You'll need it if I'm going to let myself be drawn into the social life of Sarasota.”
He started to object, but she put up her hand. He knew he couldn't afford the suit anyway, so he'd let her pay for it. He wondered for a second just how much money she had. He let that thought go as soon as it broke the surface of his consciousness.
Later that week he stopped for tea at Victoria's and told her that he would be attending the event with Marcella. She looked at him through narrowed eyes and said, “Are you sure you are not getting too involved with her?”
He made a face, “What does 'too involved' mean?”
“I thought reporters tried not to get emotionally involved with their stories.”
“I guess I've sort of given up the idea of making Marcella the subject of a story. If there is a story there, someone else will have to tell it. There is definitely a mystery about her, and I'd like to find out more about her, but I want to know for my own purposes and not for publication. I've promised her that much.”
Victoria did not say anything, but Ray could feel her disapproval in the air.
A few days later, Marcella called to tell him the tux had arrived. She asked him to stop by to try it on. He drove to her house with some trepidation. She had ordered not only the suit and cumber bun but also two shirts and the requisite studs and other go-withs. The only thing he needed was patent leather shoes. She handed him the suit and motioned him toward the bedroom to try it on. He was absolutely amazed. It fit perfectly in every dimension and it was unbelievably comfortable. He felt as though he were wearing pajamas. He came out of the bedroom beaming, “This is fabulous!”
“Did I not tell you there is no comparison – absolutely none – between a rented tux and one made for you. There is nothing better a man can do for himself than to spend the money on a perfectly tailored and fitted suit. You look very handsome. A nice pair of shoes and a haircut, and I think Victoria will be very pleased.”
“Victoria? What about you?”
She smiled, “Personally I prefer you in shorts and a sweatshirt, at the helm of your boat steering me around from one school of fish to another. I will say, however, that if you have to dress up, that does look just mighty fine.”
He grinned. “I have never worn anything so comfortable.”
She laughed, “My guess is you have never looked so fabulous.”
He asked, “What are you wearing?”
She shook her head. “Oh no you don't. My outfit will be a surprise. You'll see it for the first time the night of the party. No peeks in advance. By the way, we shall go in style. My driver will pick you up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. They usually serve really nice wine and liquor at those affairs, the better to break down the inhibitions of the would-be donors. Since you're already in for a few hundred dollars, you might as well enjoy the evening without worrying about getting a ticket on the way home.”
He chuckled, “I never thought of that, but you're right. Thanks. That will be swell.”
The evening of the party arrived. Ray had gotten a haircut and had purchased exactly the shoes Marcella suggested, even though he thought they were a bit effeminate. This was a whole new experience for him, but it was the world Marcella had inhabited for a number of years. He assumed she knew what she was doing, and he trusted himself to her care. He dressed early and then paced the house until Marcella's car pulled
into the driveway. He slid into the back seat beside Marcella, and caught his breath. She was wearing a champagne satin dress that was completely unadorned. What made the dress so stunning was the cut. It clung to her body's curves without revealing too much but showing her figure off to its best. Her only jewelry were diamond stud earrings. Her makeup was very subtle. Her hair was done in a very elegant classic French twist. By the standards of Sarasota's society ladies, she was seriously under-dressed. At one glance, he knew she was going to be the star of the evening.
She smiled at him and winked, “For a boater-reporter you clean up mighty fine, Mr. Bailey.”
He looked at her, then made a very exaggerated tour from top to bottom and back. He grinned, “You look like the goddess Aphrodite, as opposed to your usual Diana the Huntress.”
She laughed until she had to wipe her eyes. “Didn't anybody ever tell you never to make a lady cry before a party. It smears the paint.”
Just before they got out of the car, she took his hand and whispered rather frantically, “Don't leave me alone tonight, please.”
He put his hand on her waist, and whispered in return, “I'm like glue.”
They alighted from the car and swept into the hotel. He knew without meeting anyone's gaze they were getting more attention than almost any other couple in attendance.
Victoria Caruthers stood at the door, greeting the guests as though they were coming into her parlor for tea. She gave Ray a quick hug and bussed his cheek. Then she turned to Marcella, and said, “Mrs. Wilson, how kind of you to come to our dinner. I know this must seem like such small-potatoes stuff to you, but I assure you the children of Sarasota and their parents will appreciate what we are up to tonight.”
Marcella shook her hand with just the right amount of warmth and deference, but not too much of the latter. “It's a privilege to be involved. Perhaps we can discuss what I need to do in order to make an anonymous contribution.”
Victoria smiled and said quietly, “Should you wish to do that, please give me your check privately. I'll make sure the donation is recorded and that you receive appropriate tax documents without your name being listed among the donors.”
Ray could feel an undercurrent of understanding begin to flow between the women.
Marcella said, “Excellent. Perhaps we could have lunch one day later in the week.”
Victoria inclined her head and said, “I'm at your disposal. Mr. Bailey can give you my private number. Please call me.”
They smiled at each other. Ray thought that he would give about anything to attend that lunch. He was pretty sure he would not be invited or even know about it until after it was over.
Ray and Marcella made their way through the crowd, toward their assigned table. Ray bought them each a glass of wine. He considered changing his order to a double bourbon when he learned he would be seated next to the new editor-in-chief of the paper. That old dragon was a holy terror. He decided to take it easy and maintain all his faculties.
He needn't have worried. Nobody in the room so much as looked at him all evening. Marcella dominated everyone's attention as she moved through the crowd with a practiced calm and intensity that helped calm Ray, but also amazed him. Did she really learned all that from an actress playing a part? How could anyone who had grown up the way she had become so at-home in this kind of setting? He couldn't quite figure it out. In a way it didn't matter. However she had come by her sophistication, Marcella seemed perfectly at home. Her serenity helped Ray feel less nervous as well.
They ate their dinner, which was superb. They even danced a couple of dances. Ray was no Fred Astaire but he liked to dance and found he really liked dancing with Marcella, who was, a very good partner.
Too soon for Ray, Marcella pulled the plug and announced that it was time to go. He looked around and realized the party was just starting to get into gear. He started to protest, but then he saw the look on her face which left no room for argument. Marcella headed for the door, and Ray followed like a puppy, trying to keep up. Once they were in the car, she sat back, closed her eyes and breathed deeply a few times. He took her hand and asked, “Are you okay?”
She squeezed his hand and leaned against him, “I'm sorry. I know you were having a good time, but all of a sudden, I just couldn't take it for one more minute. That happens to me every so often at events like this. At some point, I look around and have this moment of panic feeling as though everyone in the room knows I'm faking it. When I first met Roland, I had such an inferiority complex I would be all but overcome by paralysis in social settings. Roland had no patience for that. He made me stay at parties until I learned to tough it through the moments of panic. Now that he's gone, I find the panic returning for the first time in years and he isn't there to force me to hang tough when the I start to freak out.”
Soon they pulled into Ray's driveway. She leaned against him and put her arms around him. She looked up into his face and whispered, “I would really prefer not to be alone tonight.”
He pulled her toward him and whispered into her hair, “Do you want to come in?”
She paused for a minute and said softly, “Why don't you grab a toothbrush and a change of clothes, maybe your running clothes for in the morning. Please, come home with me.”
Baiting & Fishing Page 16