by L. D. Davis
My cheeks were burning by the time we sat down several minutes later with plates of food, and still, I felt people watching.
Celeste had left two seats open on her right. Marco, of course, took his place next to her when she patted the seat invitingly. When the chick in the blue dress slid into the only empty seat at the table directly across from me, I felt Marco stiffen, though he didn’t outwardly show it. Great, I was stuck there, looking like the new kid in school with the two mean girls at my table. Fortunately, though, other than a quick glare in my direction, the woman in blue didn’t say anything to me or Marco.
“Where are you from?” a woman named Kat asked politely after some introductions were made. So far, nearly everyone had been nice.
Despite my nervousness, and feeling of being out of place, I responded politely. “Columbus, Ohio
“Ohio…” She tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the table and turned to her girlfriend, Hailey. “Do we know anyone from Ohio?”
“No one really knows anyone from Ohio,” Celeste said, making a few people titter. Just under her breath, barely loud enough for even me to hear, she added, “Or not like anyone wants to.”
Limp-ass leg or not, I was going to kick her in her gorgeous, kissable mouth.
“Well, now you do know someone from Ohio.” My mouth curved into a “fuck you” smirk before I took a sip of my champagne so I wouldn’t continue that sentence with a lot of inappropriate words.
Marco gave my hand a light squeeze under the table. I didn’t know if it was for support or a warning.
The conversation turned at that point, to people and places I didn’t know, or would never know. Vacations in Tahoe, weekends in Martha’s Vineyard and Newport, and skiing in Aspen. Gavin and I had done some road trips in the beginning of our marriage, but we pitched tents at campgrounds, slept in subpar hotels, and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the car or had a quick bite at Denny’s instead of four-star meals in first class on our way to Napa.
I’d always considered myself a relatively intelligent person, but when they started talking economics and politics, I began to feel rather stupid. I understood the basics, how the economy pertained to me and my family on some levels. However, I barely had a grasp on the theories and principles of the market, nationally or internationally. It always blew my mind how a country could have an enormous, ever-growing debt but still be able to spend money like it was going out of style.
I prayed that no one would ask me for my thoughts, and thankfully, no one did. In fact, after the initial politeness, I was mostly ignored. Only the man next to me, Adam, Aiko’s brother, was almost as quiet as me. He looked bored actually. The only time he seemed to pay attention to anything anyone said was when Celeste spoke. He watched her with interest, as if she were about to say something moving. Strangely enough, her gaze often flitted over to him, though she didn’t go out of her way to include him in the conversation. She certainly didn’t go out of her way to include me. I could understand that, though. They all knew each other, and I was the stranger at the table. Besides, if Marco had a revolving door to his bed, I probably wasn’t the first woman he’d brought to one of these things, and his friends probably thought I wouldn’t be the last.
“Are you okay, Tesoro?” Marco whispered to me while our tablemates were involved in a lively, slightly heated conversation about Chinese imports.
I was okay, despite feeling like I needed to go back to college and take an economics class post haste. The food was delicious, the atmosphere relaxed, and the wine…the wine was really good. I very much enjoyed the wine.
I was able to be one hundred percent honest when I answered. “Yes, I’m fine.”
He gave me a brief but tender kiss on the cheek, and I felt my face light up before he jumped back into the conversation at someone’s question. Without any intention, my gaze slid to Celeste. Her dark eyes were already focused on me, her mouth pulled up slightly in the tiniest of smirks, the one that she’d been wearing all night. I supposed it was her resting bitch face, but it irritated me to see it.
My eyebrows rose, as if to ask, “Can I fucking help you with something?”
Without any change in that smirk, she simply looked away, as if she were completely unconcerned with me and my non-verbal threats.
As I contemplated ways to maim Celeste’s beautiful face, my ears picked up on a conversation between a few guests. I glanced over and saw that the woman who had been glaring daggers at me all night was speaking. Her name, as I discovered during dinner, was Cyan, like the color blue. Like the color of her slutty see-through dress that I wished I had the body to wear.
“I’m serious. It will be like teaching a baby bird how to fly. It must fall first. If you cut off the resources for these entitlement programs, Welfare and Food Stamps in particular, people will find a way. They will be forced to do what is necessary for survival.”
“Or they’ll just starve to death,” I muttered before taking a sip of my wine.
I thought I’d only been loud enough for Marco to hear me, but I quickly realized that Adam had heard me as well. He snickered under his breath. When I glanced over at him, surprised, he whispered, “She’s an idiot.”
We shared conspiring smiles for a moment before I responded. “I didn’t want to be the one to say so. I’d just look like a jealous girlfriend.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone knows she’s an idiot.” He gestured toward the stuffed portabella mushroom on plate. “Didn’t like it?”
“Marco put it on my plate. Mushrooms are gross.”
“They say that it tastes like steak, but I’m not convinced. Fungus shouldn’t taste like beef.”
“I know, right? It’s just wrong. Just as wrong as veggie burgers.”
He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “Disgraceful and deceitful. You can’t just pose as a burger and think it’s okay.”
I started to agree with him when I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder. I gazed up, surprised to see Marco and Celeste on their feet. Marco extended his hand to me.
“There are some people I would like you to meet, if you are finished with your dinner.”
I really didn’t want to walk around and be stared at again, but I was his date, and I didn’t want him wandering off with Celeste, so I accepted his hand and got to my feet. I gave Adam a short wave and let Marco lead me away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I hated “mingling” with Marco and Celeste. He had me on one arm and her on the other. She’d slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow like they’d done it a million times before, which made me cringe. He’d never mentioned this woman before, and now he was parading her around like a trophy and me like a beloved pet. She had a way of making me feel like I was the third wheel.
She and Marco clearly had a long history. Some of their “remember when” or “remember that time” stories went back years. Marco continued to make every effort to include me, though. Every introduction started with, “This is my girlfriend, Lydia,” so that there would be no confusion, and almost every time, the other party was at least mildly surprised. At first, I had thought it was because Marco had been such a playboy before, but then I started to wonder if people were just surprised that Celeste wasn’t his girlfriend, wondered if it was something they’d been waiting for.
“So, the masque ball is scheduled for the first Saturday after the first day of spring,” Hadley, the latest person on a string of introductions said, making me refocus. Her name was so much like Hailey I knew I’d confuse the two eventually. “Invitations have begun to go out. I expect a prompt response from all of you.”
She gave Celeste and the other four people in our group a pointed look. I didn’t get the pointed look, because she didn’t know me, and I obviously hadn’t received an invitation. Marco didn’t get a pointed look, because apparently, he had been one of the people on the ball committee or whatever. That was something else I hadn’t known about.
“What is the theme?” Aiko asked excitedly, h
er slender fingers clasped together beneath her chin.
Hadley paused dramatically, keeping everyone but me on bated breath. “Birds of a Feather.”
“Oh, feathers,” Celeste said with her usual smirk. “Sounds kinky, Hadley.”
“I am certain you will discover a way to make it so.”
There were a few more minutes of chatter about the ball, what to wear, who would be there, what happened at the last event, the ten thousand dollars a man named Spence spent for his wife’s dress last year, the eight-million-dollar deal a woman named Florence struck during the fourth course of the meal, and the relaxing week spent in the Swiss Alps for a man named Ronald and his boyfriend after they outbid everyone else during the silent auction—it was “only” twenty grand. “What a steal,” he had said.
I was way out of my league and basically had nothing to contribute to the conversation. I’d never been to a ball, masque or otherwise. In my life, I had never seen a million dollars, let alone eight. Marco had refused to tell me how much my dress and new clothes had cost, but if the gown alone had been ten grand, I’d probably throw up. Twenty grand was a down payment on a house where I came from, and not only to spend a week in it. These people were from a different planet, and I was sure they were the aliens and not the rest of us, because this was not normal life for the average American—or average anyone. Average people didn’t have that kind of money or spend it so freely, like it was growing in the garden in the back yard.
“What is this ball for?” I asked Marco quietly.
He seemed happy that I asked and was eager to tell me. “The unfortunate truth is there are many uninsured and under-nourished children in the city. The money we will raise will feed children across the city and help them get basic but necessary medical needs met. The food and the health issues tend to go hand in hand.”
Once again, Marco Mangini managed to surprise me.
“You do like poor people.”
His eyes rolled. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious. How long have you been raising money for kids?”
“Years, but this is only the fifth annual masquerade ball. I would like to get more involved without getting into the political aspect of it, but that may go hand in hand as well.” He frowned, obviously unhappy with having to mix the two.
“Well, not necessarily. I mean, it doesn’t have to be painful if you do.”
His eyes narrowed with interest, and he gestured for me to continue. “I am listening.”
“So am I,” Hadley said.
Suddenly, I realized that everyone was listening. The six people who had been with us when the conversation first began, plus Brodie, Adam, and another man who’d slipped into the circle over the past few minutes.
“Oh.” I felt my face redden, but I forced myself to go on. I didn’t want them to know they intimidated me. “Well, is there anyone in the medical field involved with your charity?”
“I usually take some minor part,” Adam said. I knew he was a doctor, but I wasn’t sure what field he specialized in.
“Many of those who attend are doctors,” Hadley added.
I started off slowly, thoughtfully, but as I continued to rattle off my ideas, I grew more confident. “Okay, so why not have wellness days? Maybe it’s not something you can do every month, but what about once a quarter? What if it’s set up to be a fun day for families with games and prizes, and music? Oh, and a whole bunch of healthy but tasty food instead of junk food? You could get some restaurants in on it, too. You can offer vaccinations and wellness checks in one of those traveling medical clinics, and that way, even nurses and other people who don’t make six or more figures a year can participate. You can still have your fancy events, but to really be effective, I think you should also get more involved with the community. Put the city government on the hook for some of the costs.”
“That sounds fantastic,” Brodie said. He did seem interested, but also wary. “It also sounds like a lot of work for some of us who don’t have a lot of time.”
I went to push my hair out of my face and remembered it was pinned up. I nodded, shrugged awkwardly, and smiled. “Who said being charitable was easy? You can’t just throw money at the problem and expect it to fix itself. People need to be educated, and they also need to feel like people like you are on their side.”
His brows rose. “People like me?”
Oh shit. I may have inadvertently insulted him and everyone around me, but I had to speak the truth. I wasn’t going to just shut up. For once, I knew what I was talking about.
“I mean no disrespect, but”—I made sure to meet everyone’s eyes, including Marco’s. My heart raced, and my palms were sweaty, but I went on—“if you haven’t realized it yet, there’s a great divide between people like you and the rest of us, particularly those of us hovering too close or sinking way below the poverty line.”
Celeste seemed amused. “And you? You’re hovering close to the poverty line, are you?”
I didn’t answer that directly. My financial status was no one’s business but my own, but I did want them to know that I wasn’t like them.
“Unfortunately, we live in a world where there will always be those with and those without. There will always be someone who must wait on you at Starbucks, ring you up at Walmart—if any of you have ever stepped inside one—or someone to scrub the toilet at the local fast food joint. I don’t see that changing anytime within the next couple centuries unless something catastrophic happens and makes money useless, or suddenly every person who thinks they’re too good to do any one of those things realizes they’re no better than the people who do them now. In the meantime, most people will never experience a plane ride or, hell, a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne.” I gestured to one of the passing servers carrying glasses of sparkling liquid. “Maybe I’m making wrong assumptions about everyone here, but most people will never see in a lifetime the money each of you probably see in a year.”
I knew I wasn’t wrong about that. I was surrounded by mega real estate developers, politicians, people in the entertainment industry, doctors who catered to the rich and famous, CEOs, and their significant others who were wealthy by default.
I shook my head. I knew I was getting off track in trying to prove my point, but I felt every word I said passionately.
“All I’m saying is…those kids, those families, they need to see you, not just hear you. I just don’t see how a bunch of rich people dressing in ballgowns and diamonds can make anyone but themselves feel good about anything. To me, it just seems like another excuse to dress up and show off, and the charity part is just a bonus.” I laughed without much humor and shrugged. “But what do I know?”
Even though I meant what I said, I felt like finding a table and hiding under it. I hadn’t meant to be rude, and I hadn’t meant to insult, but masquerade balls were bullshit if that was all people were willing to do. Money by itself does not solve problems; I knew that from experience.
“I’m not sure if I’m offended, amused, or both,” Hadley said, her face bland.
“If you’re offended, you’re part of the problem,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
“Definitely amused,” Kat said over my right shoulder. I hadn’t even known she was there.
“And thoroughly entertained,” Celeste added as she gazed past Marco at me. “Say something else.”
With a smirk of amusement, Marco gripped my hand and shifted to block her from my view. He probably sensed I was about to punch her in her stunning face. I wasn’t a damn parlor trick.
Aiko forced a huge grin and changed the subject. She clapped her hands together and announced that the dessert tables were ready.
Most of them seemed eager to get away at that point and disbursed with muttered half-hearted pleasantries. Hadley offered me a tight smile.
“Lydia, was it? It was a pleasure.” She nodded once at me, threw Marco a glance that said a thousand things I didn’t get, and then she wandered over to a table and sat down, c
hatting happily again.
Celeste put a hand on a curvy hip as her eyes roamed over me. “Wow. You sure know how to break up a party, don’t you, lovely?”
I glowered at her, and only Marco’s soft kiss on my temple stopped me from spitting out anything distasteful.
“You have great ideas,” he murmured.
It was a nice thing to say, but I rather felt like he was just indulging me, the way I indulged Cora when she concocted something absolutely disgusting—I’d swallow it down anyway and give her a thumbs up.
Adam was still there, pretending not to look at Celeste as he sipped on a mixed drink. Celeste pretended she didn’t know he was there as she slipped her arm through my boyfriend’s.
“I have to pee,” I grumbled indelicately and turned away from Marco and his bestie.
He stopped me with a hand around my wrist. “I’ll wait for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll find you later. Go do your mingling thing. I will probably sit down for a few minutes.”
I didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay with me, so I made myself appear happy and content as I went to him and gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth. Reluctantly, he released me, and I limped away, trying hard to ignore the stares.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After I left the bathroom, I hung around the dessert tables for a little while, eating a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but I couldn’t really appreciate the sweet treats. There was a growing pressure in my chest that made it hard to breathe, let alone eat anything. I felt very awkward and apart from everyone else. Too many times their gazes fell upon me and lingered a little too long, questioning, judging.
A couple women I’d met earlier did approach me and introduced me to a few other ladies, but we didn’t have much in common, save for the fact that we were mothers. I felt the divide between us. A maid cleaned up after their kids, and they bought their clothes at Barney’s and Bloomingdales, while I was a big fan of Target and clearance sales at The Children’s Place. Their kids had college funds and trust funds waiting for them, whereas my kids would most likely have to rely on student loans, which would follow them through most of their adult lives in payments with loads of interest.
