On a Tuesday (One Week 1) - Page 17
I secured the top buttons of my navy-blue coat and stepped out of the car, giving him a short wave and a smile.
He pointed to the cathedral and I turned around, walking slowly to the door.
Just go in, take a few pictures, and leave. Fifteen minutes at most, Charlotte. Fifteen minutes.
I pushed the doors open and was immediately greeted with thousands of blue and gold balloons that lined the deserted hallway. There were several shiny golden banners with the words, “Hail to Pitt! Class of 2010!” and “Go, Panthers! Go!” hanging high from the ceiling. The only sign of life was a red-haired woman at a table in the middle of the hall.
Confused, I walked over to her. “Is this where the reunion is?”
“Yep!” She looked up at me and smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Charlotte Taylor,” I said. I started to ask if I was the only person who’d bothered to show up, but the sound of loud laughter and cheers suddenly came from the far end, and I realized everyone was in the ballroom.
“Oh, here you are!” The woman handed me a folder and a name badge. “Charlotte Taylor. So, you’ve kind of missed the meet and greet social part, but you’re just in time for the class presentation and special speech. There’s an open bar at the back of the room with a few chocolates left, if you’re interested. And make sure you sign the ‘I Was Here’ book. UPMC is donating one hundred dollars per signature to the university’s new health research center, and we would all greatly appreciate that.”
“I’ll be sure to sign it.” I placed my name badge on my coat and set a fifteen-minute timer on my phone. Then I headed straight into the ballroom.
Decorated in even more of Pitt’s trademark navy blue and gold, the room was filled with people dressed in suits and designer dresses. Waiters waded through them with champagne trays held high, and there was a band dressed in all-white onstage. A band I remembered watching every Saturday night as a sophomore.
“Is that you, Charlotte?” A brunette walked up to me and touched my shoulder. “Charlotte Taylor, right?”
“Yes.” I smiled. She didn’t look familiar.
“You wouldn’t remember me, I’m sure.” She laughed. “I used to intern at Heinz Stadium, and I handled all the specialty tickets for the players and the skybox seats.” She winked at me. “I’m sure you can remember that, though.”
“I do.” I was leaving in five minutes. Timer be damned. “Where’s the ‘I Was Here’ Book?”
“Over there under the golden balloon arches.” She pointed to a corner. “You can’t miss it. I’ll see you at the fireworks?”
"Absolutely." I walked away and headed straight for the arches, taking my spot in line behind three other people I faintly recognized. I considered striking up a conversation or asking them what I'd missed, but I didn't want to be lured into staying longer than I needed.
“May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen?” A woman stepped onto the stage, waving at the crowd. “We still have quite a few things to get through tonight, but we did promise you a special speech from one of your very own.”
The loud talking and laughter slowly dissipated into soft murmurs. Then silence.
"I would normally take the time to say a long, drawn-out introduction, but we can all agree that this man needs no introduction, and his name is enough. Ladies and gentlemen, from the special class of 2010, I’m honored to present to you, Grayson Connors!”
I dropped my pen to the floor as the room erupted into applause, as the stunningly gorgeous man I fell for years ago walked onto the stage.
His sapphire blue eyes gleamed beneath the bright spotlights, and his trademark dimple in his right cheek deepened as he smiled at the audience. The dark gray suit he was wearing accentuated his muscles, and the mere sight of his full lips was still capable of making my heart skip a beat.
Smiling a set of pearly whites, he shook the woman’s hand and took his place behind the podium.
“Good evening, Class of 2010,” he said, his voice deep.
“Good evening.” The crowd responded, and the only sounds in the room were now the light clinks of champagne flutes and murmurs of “Wow,” “Whoa, ” and “Awesome.”
“All these years.” A brunette in front of me nudged her friend, whispering. “He’s still sexy as hell.”
“Tonight, I’m honored to present our class with one of the most distinguished honors the university has ever bestowed upon a group.” He held up a golden plaque. “Out of all the classes that have ever graduated from the University of Pittsburgh, our class holds the highest number of accomplished students in every single field. Every. Single. Field.”
There was a loud and raucous applause, and he nodded at the crowd—clapping right along with them. He stepped in front of the podium to high-five one of his old teammates, and then he smiled his infectious smile once more before returning to his notes.
Source: readsnovelonline.net