“What the hell are we watchin’ this crap for?” Kyle Osbourne harrumphed. “M’ ball games on!” He sat up in his la-z-boy and motioned with his hands. “Sunday night…ballgame…it’s what the good Lord intended.”
“Aw Kyle.” Janie sat by her son on the couch and handed him the steamy bag fresh out of the microwave. “Careful, honey pot. Ain’t gonna hurt you t’miss one ball game.”
“Do we gotta watch this shit?” He looked at the screen at all the women in fancy gowns sticking microphones in the faces of other woman in fancy gowns.
“Sparky Jarvis called this mornin’ and said her brother had called her to tell me that Daddy got a call tellin’ Ronnie to be sure and watch.” She shook the old bowl, now filled with popcorn. “Good hardly a burned piece at all.”
“The burned pieces is m’favorite.” Ronnie said.
“I like the old maids at the bottom.” She told him.
“I like them, too.” He said. “I like to suck the salt off and spit ‘em out.”
“You just like t’spit.” Kyle slammed back in his chair. “Who is all them people?” He pointed at the screen.
“It’s the ‘Cademy Rewards, Daddy.” Ronnie explained.
“Cademy Rewards?” He looked at his wife and tried not to smile. “What’s that?”
“Don’t you know nothin’?” The child asked.
“I reckon not, son. Gimme some a that popcorn.” He reached for a handful from the bowl. “Tell me ‘bout it.”
“Well…” The boy explained, sure of his expert knowledge. “It’s when all them people that makes the movies put on the nicest clothes they can find and throw a big party so they can make fun a each other’s clothes.”
“It is?”
“Uh huh, and when they get done withat, they give each other prizes.”
“Why do they give each other prizes?”
Ronnie had to think a moment. “I think it’s kinda a race, like they have down at Bristol, but with movies not cars. Whoever’s the best at it, gets a prize.”
“Well…that makes sense.” Kyle exchanged glances with his wife. “So is this the costume part or the prize part?”
“I ain’t sure. They’s awful pretty, though.”
Janie looked at the screen. “Oh look, that is the prettiest dress I’ve ever seed.”
“You’d look nice in that, Mommy.” Ronnie chewed thoughtfully on some popcorn. “Maybe I’ll save up my bottle money and get one just like it for ya on your birthday.”
“Why that’s real thoughtful honey pot, but I’d rather you save yer money for something you want.”
“But I want to gets it for ya. I bet they’ve got one just like it down at the Kmart, and surely it cain’t cost that much.” Ronnie pointed to a new woman on the screen. “Now that lady’s dress was spensive, you kin tell ‘cause otherwise she’d a been able to buy a comb fer her hair, too.”
Janie looked back at the screen. “Who’s that woman, Kyle? Don’t she look familiar?”
“She’s probably on one of yer stories, Janie.”
“No she’s not. The people on m’stories are real, not movie stars.”
Kyle leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “Well, I swan…I believe it’s that girl from Grundy, ain’t it? Turn it up…”
Janie half stood and reached over to turn the volume up and quickly sat back down. They could hear a woman say more clearly now…”
“Saxon you look beautiful tonight. Who are you wearing?”
“Oh thank you, Montana.” Saxon beamed at the camera and waved to someone they couldn’t see. “This is an Orlanda D’Gamo, an up and coming designer that I just adore.”
“It’s breath taking…and the jewelry?” she asked. Both the women’s heads turned to someone off screen.
Saxon giggled and slapped at someone they couldn’t see. “Be good…”
Montana got a wry grin on her face. “And speaking of beautiful, Saxon, I see besides the Tiffany bracelet on your arm, you are also sporting the exquisite Ian Justyn…come in closer and let us talk to you.”
“That’s Mr. Ian!” Ronnie pointed at the screen. “It’s Mr. Ian.”
“Oh no, I’m just arm candy tonight…thanks.”
“Stop.” Saxon tugged on Ian until the camera could get a good shot of them both. “You are nobody’s arm candy.” The camera could finally see them both in matching shades of dark blue.
“They are such a cute couple…” Janie murmured out loud.
“And who are you wearing, Ian?”
“Uh…Homer Thistlewhite…”
“Who?”
“Bill Blass…” Saxon giggled. “He’s wearing Bill Blass.”
“This must be a big night for both of you, small town kids…you went to school together I understand…”
“Old friends, very very old friends” Ian agreed.
“Ian…not that old.” Saxon chided him. “You talk like we’re wearing Depends.”
Ian pointed at Saxon. “She is…she has a terrible bladder control problem.”
Saxon covered her mouth, trying very hard not to snort, as Ian knew she tended to do when was able to keep her laughing.
“And now you are here together at the biggest night in Hollywood. Saxon there must be a lot of people from your small town glued to the set tonight. Would you want to say anything to them?”
“Oh, just how much I love ‘em and how much I appreciate all the support.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a chance to thank them all if you win.”
Saxon just smiled. You couldn’t help but notice Ian elbow Saxon just a little and nod toward the camera. “Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to say hello to Ronnie Osbourne back in Lost Mountain, Virginia and to tell him that I hope he wins.”
Montana was a little flustered, but the Osbournes didn’t hear her, they were too busy shouting at each other.
She could not believe the big deal everyone was making of it. Every channel in this stupid town was glued to it. Oh, sure, she always watched, every year, but Clare could not believe that since she’d gotten up this morning that was all that was on the TV.
She finally just gave up. She looked over at the thick envelope that was laying on the nightstand; cash, more cash than she’d ever seen. It was just there. She heard a knock on her door this morning, and when she opened it up it was right there at her feet. She looked around but saw no one. It was creepy.
Clare picked it up and leafed through it again. “Holy words my mother told me never to say.” She breathed and folded the flap shut. “I can’t keep this.” She tossed it in her lap.
She focused her attention back on the TV screen. She looked at all the pretty people in all their pretty clothes, and thought. “And now I figure out how to get back home.” She sighed and took a drink from the warm pop can that had been there all day. She looked at the envelope. “Well, that would easily get me a plane ticket and then some…and I am definitely going to need money.”
She flopped back on the bed, putting the pillow over her face and thrashing her feet. She’d overplayed her hand and lost. She just could not believe she’d lost. Clare Humphreys always won, always, but there was nothing she could do.
“And in less than an hour those velvet doors will be shut and someone’s dream will come true…” said the guy on the television she knew from that stupid talent program she refused to watch.
She threw the pillow that had been over her face at the screen. “My dreams aren’t gonna come true. They just exploded in my face!” She seethed and then burst into tears.
She cried for a while and then reached for a Kleenex, knocking that thick envelope in the floor. “Crap.” She whined and sniffed. She reached down and stuffed some of the money that had fallen out back in. Clare paused a moment and turned the envelope back and forth.
“No address, just a phone number. How am I supposed to return this? Just leave it on the dresser when I get tossed out tomorrow?” She wiped her nose. “That’s real smart. What a nice little ‘Welcome to the Fleabag’ gift for the next person who checks in or the maid…like they have one.”
She got up and looked at her face in the dirty mirror. “God, I looked like somebody ran over my dog and then shot me.” She opened the rusty tap and tried to wash her face.
“Ladies and gentlemen, one of tonight’s nominees…Saxon Allen…” the man said.
Clare looked at the reflection of the screen in the mirror. “Just kill me now…”
“Listen to that dip prattle on…” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m so happy. I’m so lucky. I’m so pretty…hope she looses.”
She reached for the hot Pepsi and took another drink glued to the screen. “…No…” Clare scurried to the edge of the bed. “That can’t…it had better not be!” She grabbed the remote and started changing channels, the Oscar parade everywhere.
She stopped at the channel that had a close up of Saxon Allen waving at someone and holding hands with her escort, but Clare couldn’t get a good look. She pointed the remote again until she spotted her again, back where she started…
“Oh stop, you goof.” Saxon Allen playfully smacked someone off screen.
“You look like you are having a great time.” The man said and pointed the mike back at her.
“I am having a great time.”
“And it seems like this man is providing it. Would you like to introduce him to us?”
“Yeah, Kleenex Girl…” Clare squinted. “Let’s see the ‘mo you’ve got…” Clare stopped in mid sentence when the camera pulled back enough to show her escort, smiling, dressed in a deep blue tuxedo and obviously adoring the bleach blonde bimbo who had slept her way to the top…Ian.
“NOOOOO!” She stood up and screamed.
Someone pounded on the wall, “Shud’up over there!”
Clare hurled the pop can at the wall and began to pace the room. “I can understand that I screwed up. I got dumped. It’s over. I can accept that. I have to...” She hurled her face back to the screen just in time to see Ian kiss Saxon Allen on the cheek.
“But I will not be replaced by a cheap, no talent, bra stuffing, corn bread eating, coal dust covered slut from Grundy!”
Clare grabbed at the envelope, throwing wads of cash on the floor until she found the little card with the phone number on it. She picked up the phone and walked to the mirror as she dialed and heard it ring.
As soon as the line picked up she spit. “It’s Clare Humphreys…what did you have in mind?” As she listened she wiped the tears from her cheeks with a hundred dollar bill.
She was so enjoying herself. She used to hate this. They had to force her to do it, but she had come to like it, adore it, and then suddenly they didn’t want her to do it any more.
She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Someone had designed it just for her, blue, her favorite color. And not just blue, royal blue, for that’s what she was—royalty, Hollywood royalty. She understood that now, and she was not about to be kept in the background any longer.
She sipped her champagne, tipping her head slightly to the handsome young actor that smiled at her from across the restaurant. She sighed. He was a nobody, and she was a somebody.
Her fingers played with the jewelry that graced her neck. She smiled; at least he wasn’t around to tell her to stop. She had taken care of that. She was in control now; she knew it and no one could say anything different. As soon as the new musical came out, she was going to put him in his place for good.
They thought she was stupid. She sipped her champagne again so no one could see the wry smile. She’d been slipping away money and sending it to her cousin. She had put it all in the bank in her name, not his, not theirs, hers and hers alone. As soon as this movie opened, she wouldn’t need anyone.
It had been a big fight, but she held out and gotten what she wanted. It surprised everyone when the quiet little wallflower started making a few demands. They never thought she’d balk. She showed them.
Now it was her turn to make the monkeys dance. It was her turn to say do this, do that, wear this, wear that. They had made promises they had had no intention of keeping until she made them. She knew without her they had nothing. And she was smart enough to know that she didn’t need them anymore. She could do this. She really could.
“Aren’t you looking gorgeous tonight, dear.” The woman said as she passed.
“You, too.” She smiled, just a small one. The woman was shocked that she spoken back. No one expected that, but they’d better get used to it, no more quiet little mouse, no more hiding. Those days were gone and gone for good.
She glanced around the room, in now rehearsed shyness. They were all looking at her, admiring her, loving her. Yes, these were her people.
The water’s parted and in she came. She wasn’t afraid of her anymore. She was one of them.
Of course she came right up to her. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the Academy Awards, Lucille. I belong here.”
“You weren’t nominated.”
She looked in her eyes; she knew that would throw her. “Neither were you.”
Lucille looked down her nose. “But James was.”
“Did he win?” Not that she really cared.
“No.” She stepped in close. “Where is he?”
“How would I know?” The waiter bowed and allowed her to replace her empty glass, with a deliciously full one. “Thank you.”
“Oh, please…” Lucille hissed. “I know what’s going on.” She said loudly.
“Lucille, keep your voice down. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“Everyone knows you’re sleeping with him and I'M making a spectacle of myself!” She felt the ears of the room listening.
She dropped her eyes and looked at the floor, lowering her voice hoping Lucille would take her lead. “Lucille, you are mistaken.”
“No I’m not.” She looked around but lowered her voice.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“How dare you, tell me not to be ridiculous. If it weren’t for me…”
“Lucille, you keep insisting if it weren’t for you…did you ever stop to think if it weren’t for you that things wouldn’t be nearly as difficult as they are. We are stars, Lucille. You are a paid employee. Remember your place.”
Lucille squinted her eyes. “You remember yours.”
“This discussion is over.” She started to move away.
“Stay away from my husband.” Lucille warned.
“That will be hard to do, dear, since we are making a picture together.” She looked back into Lucille’s eyes and smiled. “A love story…” She walked away.
“You can forget about that picture, dear.” Lucille said for all to hear. “Even if it gets made, no one wants to see a picture starring a sweet, innocent little WHORE!”
She whirled around and slapped Lucille’s face. The room gasped. Lucille stood unmoved, just a moment, then calmly reached for the champagne in her hand and threw it in her face.
She looked down at her beautiful blue gown. She looked at everyone in the room, thinking…oh God, what they were thinking? She covered her face with her matching gloves. She had to get out of there before they all started laughing. She couldn’t stand the laughing. So she ran, ran to anywhere, somewhere, as long as it wasn’t here.
Lucille casually walked to the corner, knowing everyone in Hollywood was watching not her, but the tarnished star running away. It wouldn’t be long before everyone was quietly whispering, and Lucille knew without a doubt most of it would be blown way out of proportion. She walked over to David Turner, stunned but standing tall, the bastard.
“Lucille,” he said. “What have you done?”
She looked at him and took the drink out of his hand. “Cleaning up the mess, again.” She started to drink, but saw the look in his eyes. “And don’t tell me that didn’t take care of the problem.”
She watched the cameras fighting to get another shot, the best shot, any shot. “I don’t understand.” She said to the women she half had her back to. “Why her? She lost.”
“Ursella dear, not her…them.” She looked over her shoulder at her. “She’s Cinderella and that definitely is the Handsome Prince.”
“I thought he was straight.”
“You know her track record. He won’t be when she gets finished with him.” They both snorted in their drinks. She waved and put on a big Hollywood smile at the director she knew was casting a part she wanted who was coming in the door. She could almost swear he had been avoiding her all night.
Ursella watched as the couple stepped away and into the crowd. “There they go. I just don’t understand it. Him yes, her no.”
“She won’t last.” She sipped her drink. “Him, I’d like to wear out myself.”
“Maybe we’re just jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Well…” She put her empty glass down and snatched another off the waiter’s tray as he whisked by. “She’s young and beautiful and hot, and face it, we aren’t anymore.”
“Speak for yourself.” She moved toward the man with the part. “Kisses, dear.”
“Same. Lunch?”
“Call me.” She stopped the couple walking past her. “Susan, darling, you look divine.”
“Thank you, Ursella.” Susan stopped, but kept her arm wrapped in her husband. “And you…who are you wearing?”
“Vera Wang, of course. I live and die by Vera Wang.”
“It’s beautiful, my dear.” Jeremy took her hand and kissed it. “You, like fine wine, just get better with age.”
She put her hand to her heart and feigned swooning. “Charmer. I don’t know how she keeps a tiger like you tamed.” She smiled at him although in her head she was seething that the son of a bitch had made a crack about her age.
“Chains…lots of whips and chains.” Jeremy Tyson smiled, and his wife blushed.
“Jeremy!” Susan said, hand to mouth. “Will you excuse us, Ursella?”
“Of course. Kisses.” She watched them fold into the crowd. As soon as she was sure they couldn’t see, she shot them the bird. She looked up and saw someone watching. “Lucifer! Darling! Just the man I wanted to see!” She waltzed right over, before he could run away.
Her now empty space cleared the line of vision for the couple standing behind her. The young man spotted someone and grabbed his wife’s hand. “Look, there stands Scott Barlow.”
“Who’s that?” She crinkled her nose.
“The producer who said I couldn’t act my way out of a jock strap.” He clutched his freshly won Oscar. “Come on, let’s go shove this up his ass!”
Off they headed, revealing Trampus Scott, knocking back another in all the hubbub. He barley noticed the classic blonde come up and give him a kiss on the cheek. He turned to look at her and smiled.
“Hello, Saxon. Come to join me in the loser’s club?”
“So we lost. Big deal.” She slipped her arm around him. “Our time will come.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He put his empty glass on the bar. “Another. You’ve only lost once. I’m a three time loser.”
“Stop.” She straightened his tie for him. “You look dashing as usual.”
“And where’s your date?”
“Trying to find the little boy’s room.”
“So what’s he got that I don’t got, beautiful?”
“He’s an old friend I made a promise to, and you’re an old hound who just opens up his front door, points and grunts ‘You!’.”
“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting.” He reached up and whisked a small stray hair from her forehead. “So is this the start of something big, or do I still have a chance?”
Saxon threw back her head and laughed. “Trampus. Ian and I, well it’s a long story, we’ll just say there were too many chances we both let pass by until we both just know it would never ever be.”
“So I do still have a chance.” He whisked her up in his arms making her laugh some more.
“Oh hell no.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t keep it in your pants.”
“I just need the right woman to tame me.”
She playfully slapped his chest. “You just need the right vet to neuter you. You know that’s what it would feel like.” He smiled. She made him smile. She liked that. “I know you like the back of my hand Trampus Scott, and you know I will always love you, but…”
“I’m never getting in your pants…”
“Not in a million years.” She kissed him on the lips. “Now let’s go find the other man whose never getting in my pants.”
Saxon pulled away, but Trampus grabbed her back and whispered in her ear. “I know you like the back of my hand, Saxon Allen. Don’t bullshit a bullshiter.” He kissed her forehead and let her go.
Ian had teased Saxon all night about her bladder. The tables had turned, and if he didn’t find the bathroom soon he’d never get the deposit back on the stupid tux. This was the third party they’d made an appearance at. Almost all the same faces at every one. A few drinks, some mingling and pictures, pictures and more pictures.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t having fun. He and Saxon always made everything fun. It was nice to see her just be the perky little blonde he’d met in that acting seminar and not the savvy industry professional that had gotten her so far.
He heard a little music from his breast pocket. He pulled it out and hit the little button.
“WHERE RU?” She texted.
“F IF I NO, TRYING TO FIND PLACE TO P.” Ian fumbled to text back.
“RESQ ME SOON”
“P FIRST, U NEXT.” He started to slip it back in his pocket.
“What is that?” A familiar voice asked.
“Susan.” Ian smiled and kissed her cheek.
“Am chopped liver?” Jeremy asked.
“What you wanna kiss, too?”
“Well, maybe not in public.” He winked.
Ian wanted to crawl under the closest table.
“Don’t act like my youngest, trying to hide something, Ian. Tell Mommy want you have in your hand.”
“It’s a blackberry.” He held it up for her to see.
“I thought you hated those things.”
“Saxon sent it to me as a joke.”
“Interesting color.” Jeremy said as Ian tucked it in his pocket.
“Raspberry.” They looked at Ian with blank faces. “Inside joke, you really had to be there.”
“You two make a beautiful couple.” Susan smiled. “Everyone’s talking.”
“Well, we’ve known each other for several years, dear friends.”
“People are making assumptions.”
“That’s not our problem.” Ian said not meaning to be short, but if he had to stand here and make small talk much longer, people would no longer have to make any assumptions about the puddle he’d be standing in.
“I signed El Toro to a record deal.” Susan put her hand on his chest.
“That’s wonderful. They deserve it. I wish them the best.” Ian smiled.
“And I bought their songbook.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t realize that you had written so many of their songs.”
“Co-wrote, a long time ago.”
She smiled. “Why don’t you come to dinner, Wednesday night?”
Jeremy leaned over and whispered in his ear. “We’ll send the boys to spend the night at the grandparents.”
“Thank you, but I can’t.” Ian looked at the floor.
“Another time, then?” She asked so, so sweetly.
“Uh, no. I’m sorry.” Ian didn’t want to lie. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t do that again.
“Oh…” Susan took her hand off his chest.
“Look, call the office. I’d be more than happy to take a meeting with you. In fact, I think we can be of mutual benefit to each other professionally and I hope we can be friends.”
“Absolutely.” Jeremy said, but Ian couldn’t help but see the disappointment in both their eyes.
“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Yes, of course.” Susan said.
Ian turned to go and Jeremy grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “The bathroom is to your right in the corner.” Jeremy’s eyes gleamed.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much I thank you.” Ian had never meant anything so much.
Ian was thanking God, Jesus, Buddha, Good Karma, Mrs. Butterworth and Sookie Stackhouse that there was no line. He tried very nonchalantly not to slam the door open and head for the closest urinal, starting to unzip his trousers before the door was even shut. He closed his eyes in relief the moment he was home free.
As the desperation eased, he opened his eyes and saw his own reflection staring back at him. He could also see a familiar sight of that night at the sinks behind him, some dude bent over with a rolled up dollar sniffing white powder up his nose. Ian leaned in a little closer to assuredly recognize the familiar hair cut attached this particular nose.
The blonde tipped Mohawk straightened up, rubbed his nostrils and breathed in the stubborn powder that hadn’t gone up with the first good snort. He shook his head and tucked the bill back in his tux then licked the fat of his hand after he wiped the marble. Ian saw him look at the mirror above his own head.
“So the legendary Ian Justyn” the Brit smiled. “We meet at last.” He came sauntering over to the next urinal.
“We’ve met before.” Ian cursed his bladder for being so full.
“Sorry, I don’t remember.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Chamberlain shook his head. “So are you enjoying the big night?”
“I apologize Mr. Chamberlain, but I am very uncomfortable having any sort of conversation with another man when we are both holding our penises.”
“We didn’t have sex then.” The man said and zipped up. Ian didn’t hear the bathroom door open, he just tried to hurry up and get out of there.
London leaned against the wall as Ian tried to turn his back to him and quickly finish. London rubbed his belly, this time covered in a surprisingly stylish tux. “So the rumors are true…” he leered.
Ian was finally able to zip up and flush. “You were being so nice…please; I don’t even know how to respond to a comment like that.” He walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. Soaping his hands and washing up.
“Easy, mate.” London smiled. “Why don’t you come in one of the stalls and suck me off?”
Ian smiled back. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”
“No need to be rude…you don’t have to swallow.”
Ian balled up the paper towel he’d dried his hands on and pitched it at the Brit, hard. It bounced off his shoulder, smacked against the matching marble wall and nailed him in the left temple. “You’re making an unsolicited pass and I’m rude?”
“You're the one wagging that big willy and battling those deep sexy blue eyes at me.”
“Look, I am pretty sick and tired of everyone saying…yeah, compared to yours it’s humongous, but it’s just a cock…attached to a guy who doesn’t appreciate getting hit on by some drug soaked washed up boy band reject who hasn’t shown any potential of his talent on his last three albums. Check into rehab London, get off your knees, get off your back and get your act together. When you are sober and thinking with your heart and not your testicles maybe then you can make some real art instead of some self gratifying expensive farts that don’t even resemble music.”
Chamberlain stood there crossing his arms and glaring at Ian.
“One more thing…” Ian was on a roll and he wasn’t going to stop now. “Just a question actually…do you seriously think that Mohawk thing is attractive or is it just another ploy to get attention, because if it is, I have to tell you…it’s working. Everyone who sees it points and says ‘who the fuck is that moron?’”
Ian heard applause from behind him, and Chamberlain stood there refaced and speechless. Ian turned his back on him, picked up the towel wad and put it in the trash.
“Don’t you walk away from me,” Chamberlain shouted behind him. “Nobody walks away from me!” Ian kept walking, not even pausing as he shot him the bird.
“God damn it! Get back here!” He heard the man screaming as Ian pushed open the door and let it slam behind him.
Ian heard the door open and shut as he walked to find Saxon. A man he didn’t know walked by, patted him on the shoulder and said “Way to go.”
A second put his hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “You okay?” Trampus Scott asked.
Ian nodded. “You were in there?”
“Stall next to the wall, ready to jump in if the fists started flying.”
Ian smiled. “Actually that felt pretty good.” Trampus laughed. “I’ll have to do that more often…uh, don’t tell my staff though.”
Trampus put his fingers to his lips. “Our secret. Come with me, I left your date waiting for you over this way.”
A few steps and there she was, chatting with someone he was sure was famous, but he was sure he didn’t care. He just wanted to see the smile, the one that ever since he was a backward 19 year old filled his heart and said “You’re just fine, hay seed.”
Saxon saw him coming her way. There she was and there it was. Ian smiled back. She simply held out one arm and allowed him to slip right into her, like a warm, safe place he belonged. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed as she chatted up who ever it was she was chatting up. She softly rubbed her hand up and down his back gently until the trembling in his legs stopped.
When the chatty person holding the Oscar shook his hand, said good evening and walked off. Ian kissed the top of her head. “There that wasn’t so bad was it?”
She wrapped her other arm around him, lay her cheek tenderly on his chest and sighed. “Thank you, Ian. I have had such a good time.”
“That’s what you’re paying me for.” He pushed her back and looked in her eyes. “We did discuss my bill, didn’t we?”
She giggled. “Stop. You’ll make me snort again. You have made this night absolutely wonderful. I’ve not had this much fun since we jumped the fence and peed in all the kegs at the Delta Phi Sorority Homecoming.”
“Shhh.” He said. “You made me promise not to discuss your weak bladder…again…tonight.” He kissed her on the cheek. “But just tonight. Tomorrow is another day.”
“So, this is the last one. Shall we call it a night?” She smiled at him.
“Sure. But I think we should take the limo somewhere and get a chili dog, we’re dressed for it. Might as well make the most of it.”
“And chocolate shakes?” She looked hopefully.
“Who’d eat a chili dog without washing it down with a chocolate shake? That’s just uncouth.”
She took his hand. “You’re on.” She started to head to the door.
“Wait. Wait!” He gently stopped her. “We’ve done what you wanted all night. Now it’s my turn.”
“What?” She cocked her head and grinned. She lowered her voice. “You wanna pee in the champagne fountain?”
“Oh, if you’d only suggested that five minutes ago.”
Saxon so daintily snorted. Ian took her hand and put it to his heart. “Listen…”
“What?”
“Shh…shhh…listen.” He pulled her in close. “Hear the music?”
“Music?”
Ian pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Dance with me, Saxon. Fulfill the promise you made my heart a long time ago and let it dance with the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Saxon sighed. She leaned against him and began to sway gently. The music swelled and they began to glide softly and surely to the music that beat through the night. Everyone in the room watched them, sighed with them and envied them. They all sat back in awe and watched Prince Charming finally get his dance with Cinderella.
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