I Don't Want to Wear a Tie
ere. Let me fix that tie.”
“Not so tight!” Rick Deacon squirmed, pulling back.
Selena Davenport smacked Rick’s shoulder then brushed off any sign of dandruff. His rust brown hair was perfectly in order. They stood just off to the side of the Terrace Room in the Terrace Foyer of the Plaza Hotel where the Christmas Ball was well underway, giving them sufficient privacy for her to make final adjustments to her date. His hunched and rather sulky posture reminded her as vividly as possible that he was indeed three years younger than she was; something he wanted to make absolutely clear. Though Rick had promised to be her escort to the season’s New York society events, he did it with dragging feet.
“Now,” she reminded him, “I need you to greet my grandparents as civilly as possible. You may not care about representing the Deacon family at this event—your father certainly never comes to these, though I don’t know why—but you are here to be a lifesaver to me. So stand up straight and don’t embarrass me.”
He rolled his eyes. “I still don’t see why you want me to be your date at this thing. I’m too young for this crowd. Everyone here will think you dragged in a kid.”
The curvaceous, Mediterranean-type debutante pressed her plump lips together in an amused smirk. Yes, he was only thirteen, nearing his fourteenth year ever so slowly, but despite his impetuous and often childish clinging to boyish games, he could not be taken for naïve. In fact, since the first moment she set eyes on him, she had been impressed by how sober-minded he was, how mature in essence he stood. No one would see him as a kid.
“Well,” Selena smiled with a flutter of her naturally long eyelashes, “Never mind what you think people think. I know you will be a hit.”
She hooked her arm in his then dragged him towards the Terrace Room.
The ball that year took place in both the Ballroom and the Terrace Room, the reservations held in advance by more than one association to make that year’s Christmas event one of the greatest to remember. Of course, that was said every year. Selena privately wondered if there was ever any meaning to the words ‘greatest’ or ‘best’ when they are used so often to describe just about everything. They might as well have said, ‘the same old shtick, just with a trick’ or, ‘you’ll be so drunk, you won’t know if it was fantastic or not’.
Rick sighed aloud then squared his shoulders. Just like she predicted, despite his karmic-tendency towards trouble, Rick would behave himself as a gentleman.
She had him shake the hands of the board members to her grandparents’ company first. They were older to middle-aged men, well-dressed, and eyeing the young ‘man’ with curiosity. Once introduced, the first words out of their lips were in surprise.
“Mr. Deacon? As in the heir to Deacon Enterprises?”
Shrugging with a gentle eye-roll, Rick replied, “I’m afraid so.”
They laughed with pleasure, eyeing Selena’s manner as she stood next to Rick, especially her hold on his arm, which to them seemed plentifully affectionate. Clearly the words merger and profit floated through their minds as their eyes glittered with money-lust. Their smiles expanded. Rick maintained his good behavior with a well-mannered smile, though his eyes hardly took in their looks. Already he was bored. She could tell. His eyes were drifting to the rest of the room, seeking something that could entertain him in the slightest bit for the next two-or-so hours.
“Pray tell, should we expect your father tonight?” one of them asked Rick.
Rick shook his head, still scanning the crowd, though this time it seemed to be for a familiar face. He sighed, not recognizing one yet. “Not likely. Dad is somewhere in Germany, I think. He’s not really into fancy get-togethers anyway.”
One of the men puzzled. “Abroad during the holidays?” He glanced to his friend. “Does this mean you will be spending your Christmas vacation with
Impressum
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.09.2014
ISBN: 978-3-7368-4024-9
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