Fall From Grace

I look up at him. “There was a reason I never went to any of these things when Mom asked.”

“I didn’t go either.”

“True. But how many years have you gone to this one?”

He sighs as he picks up my hand and wraps it around his elbow. “Eight years. And don’t remind me. Luckily, I learned to avoid the people I need to. But it’s good for us. These are the people with deep pockets and don’t mind paying us a retainer to keep us around.”

We walk into the art museum and the way it’s decorated is gorgeous. Everything is in rich fall colors. Orange, pale pink, and cream floral arrangements line the entrance and tables. Deep burgundy and navy tablecloths alternate among the tables. Even the curtains match the decor.

“Avoid the men over seventy and any woman wearing one too many pieces of jewelry.”

“Why?” I ask curiously.

“The men are looking for fresh meat and the women are looking for gossip.”

I snort. “Okay.”

“And don’t sit at a table by yourself, that is just asking for attention.”

“I’m thinking I should have just made you go solo and stayed at home in my pajamas eating a cheese tray and watching trash TV.”

He swipes two glasses of champagne off a waiter’s tray. “And left me to handle these people by myself? I don’t think so. You are a good distraction.”

I grab one of the glasses out of his hand. “So you are only using me.”

He shrugs. “Less schmoozing I have to do if everyone has eyes on you.”

“Gee thanks, brother.”

He smiles at me and I punch him in the arm just as one of the partners of the firm approaches us.

“Owen, good to see you. How are your wife and the baby doing?”

“Very well. Kids a crier though. Chelsi wishes she could be here but with a newborn she didn’t want to risk anything.”

Richard nods. “And you are?” he asks me.

This is how much attention the partners pay to everyone working in this office that isn’t a top lawyer? Dicks. “I’m Owen’s sister. Grace.”

“Ahh yes. Grace Prescott. I forgot you were working for Mr. Taylor. How is that going?”

I put on my fake smile. “Well. It was so generous of you to allow him to take on an assistant and allow me to have a job.”

“Carson Taylor is going places with his career. Could even be a politician one day. He always gets my approval on anything he needs.”

Owen agrees with him. “Well, Mr. Duvall, it was good to see you. See you around this evening.”

I swallow down the rest of my champagne. “Good to know I am so memorable.” Owen laughs at me. “And Carson in politics? I cannot see that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that will ever happen.”

We spend the next hour or so mingling. More so me drinking champagne while my brother talks. I guess I am not doing a very good job of being his distraction. But despite how much he hates schmoozing, as he put it, he is incredible at it. I can see the rich men and women eating out of his hand.

I still haven’t seen Carson. I know he should be here. Hell, I made sure his tux was delivered last week. I highly doubt he would have skipped this event. I am not sure he is even allowed to with his bid for partner so close.

And I am just a glutton for punishment. Despite the few words we said to each other in the last two weeks since our argument, I am dying to see him in that tux.

I get bored listening to my brother talk and need something other than champagne or else I am going to start burping. I excuse myself from him and the businessman he is talking to and make my way over to the bar. I order a martini then lean against the bar, taking in the room from a different angle.