Ashley, one of society’s finest, is checking everyone in. When Brent and I get to the front of the line, it all begins.
“Well, Abby, I never would have recognized you without your boots on. What are you doing here?” she exclaims loudly, smiling ear to ear, and probably not even realizing how mean she really sounds.
Brent stiffens beside me and starts to remark. I grab on to his hand to stop him. “Hey, Ashley, it’s under Brent Wilder.”
At the mention of his name, Ashley straightens her back and pushes her chest out. “Of course, of course, we are so happy to have you here, Mr. Wilder. I’m Ashley Sinclair.”
I can still see the annoyance on his face, so I step in front of him, grab the program off the table and usher him inside, muttering a ‘thanks’ to Ashley.
When we get inside, Brent starts to speak. “I can’t believe the nerve…”
I stop him with a hand to his chest. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
He grips me by the shoulders. “Forget her. Let’s have a good time. The only thing getting me through this night is knowing that you’re going home with me.”
The night flies by. We have a wonderful dinner and we dance until my feet are aching. I’ve found that I get along well with all of Brent’s colleagues and have pretty much stuck with them. A lot of them I know from growing up here and they have shown me the utmost respect, even asking me advice for housing plans and such. I walk toward the bathroom with a lighter feeling in my stomach. Maybe Brent is right. Maybe this will be okay.
I do my business and before I come out of the stall, I hear women come in talking loudly. “I don’t know how she got him. Surely he didn’t see her in her work boots and say, “Man, I have to have that.’ They just don’t make sense.”
Another voice agrees, “I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything besides jeans and those boots. I wonder if she wear the boots in bed?”
They both laugh and I feel my cheeks burn. Never one to back down, I walk out of the stall with my head held high. I go straight to the sink to wash my hands and both women are quiet when they see me. I throw the paper towel in the trash and start walking toward the door. I swing it open and turn around before I leave. “No, I don’t wear the boots to bed. He prefers me naked,” I tell them and let the door swing shut behind me.
When I get back to Brent, he instantly asks me what’s wrong.
“Nothing. Do you mind if I go home now?” I ask him.
“Abby, you were fine when you went into the bathroom and now you’re upset. What happened?” He slides his arms around me and I stiffen.
“I’m leaving, Brent. I’ll see you later,” I tell him and stride toward the door. I don’t even look back at him to see if he’s following me. I’ll get a cab if I have to.
Brent
I finally catch up with her on the sidewalk. With my hand to her back, I guide her to the car. She says nothing on the ride home and I decide to wait until I have her in my lap, in my arms to talk to her.
When we reach her door, I start to follow her in, but she turns in the doorway with her hand on my chest, stopping me. “I need to be alone tonight.”
“No,” I tell her and lift her up and carry her into her apartment, kicking the door shut with my shoe.
Anger flushes her face. “You can’t just muscle your way into my apartment. I don’t want you here.”
My jaw tightens, but I tell her firmly, “Yes. You do. We may fight, we may disagree, but every night will end the same. You in my arms.”
Want flares in her eyes, but just as quickly it disappears. “For how long?”
Frustrated, I stroke my hand through my hair. “What do you mean for how long? Forever.”
She looks down at the ground. “Or until you realize how different we are. I don’t fit in with your crowd.”
Jealousy instantly sparks inside of me when I think of all the comments my friends and colleagues made tonight. “All my friends told me how lucky I am to have you. You had them eating out of the palm of your hands. I thought I was going to have to punch someone if they asked you to dance. They loved you.”
“Not all of them,” she mutters.
“Are you talking about the woman at the front, or whatever upset you in the bathroom? Well, that’s on them, honey. They’re just jealous of you. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You’re every man’s dream.”