As I made my way through the cluster of tables to the back where the restrooms were located, I thought of my father. A former Marine who fought in Vietnam during the last two years of the war, he still wore his gray hair in whitewalls, almost shaved on the sides of his head, brush cut on top. At fifty-nine, he was a current Justice of the Supreme Court of New York. Defense lawyers referred to him as 'The Hangin' Judge' even though we didn't have a death penalty in the state. After the war ended and he returned Stateside, he finished his law degree and began his career, following a long line of lawyers in our family stretching back to the 19th Century.
Now, he was seriously considering a run at the House seat coming vacant due to the incumbent's illness. Growing up, my brother and I called him The Drill Sergeant in secret, Father in public. I still called him Daddy when I was in his good books, which I wasn't currently.
After washing up, I pushed the door open and knocked into Dr. Delish himself as he was walking past to the men's room.
When I bumped into him, my ankles almost turned in completely like a kid on ice skates for the first time. I fought to stand up, grasping onto him to prevent myself from falling.
"Whoa," he said, catching me by the arms, pulling me close. "Steady…"
"Oh, so sorry," I said as I grabbed onto his shoulders and glanced up into his eyes.
Oh. My. God.
He was gorgeous. He smelled like heaven.
His glanced at my feet and the ridiculously high heels on which I tottered like a child learning to walk.
"I'm not really used to these."
"Trying to defy the laws of physics?" he said and smiled as he helped steady me, his gaze moving slowly down my body to my feet again. "Nice shoes though. Love the leather straps…"
"Thank you," I said, my cheeks heating. I straightened up with his help and smiled, then I turned back to the tables, my heart racing just a bit.
When I got back, I took a huge sip of my drink.
"I just bumped into Dr. Delish."
Dawn raised her eyebrows. "What's he like?"
"He smells as good as he looks."
I watched Dr. Delish return to his place at the bar. He spoke to his drinking partner for a moment, finished his martini and then checked his cell. After he buttoned his top shirt button and tightened his tie, he threaded his way through the tables. When he left, he glanced my way, catching my eye briefly, a quick smile on his face when he recognized me. What a smile it was. I felt a little thrill go through me and smiled back.
"There goes trouble," I said, wistfully. "Maybe you're right after all. My spidey-senses are tingling."
"And that," Dawn said, leaning in closer, "is why you're stuck with Big. You, my dear BFF, are a bona fide dork. Spidey-senses..."
I grinned at that. "Well then, we're nerd central." We smiled at each other. While Dawn didn't like bad boys, I couldn't help but wish I was the natural companion to Doctor Dangerous instead of the techies at Columbia's IT department.
After finishing my drink, I checked my cell. There was a message from Nigel, wondering where I was.
Get your sweet little self over here. I couldn't bring Brian tonight, given the company your father keeps, so don't leave me all alone with these stuffed suits!
"Guess it's time for me to go to my father's," I said and finished the last of my drink. "Nigel's texting me. Will you be ok until Jill gets here?"
"She just texted me. She'll be here any minute. Have fun!"
"Have fun? Have you ever been to one of these fundraisers? It's all fake smiles and shaking hands. Besides, my father will be there."
"Nigel too," she said, reminding me.
Nigel – Sir Nigel Benson, recently knighted by Her Majesty for his humanitarian service. Host of Travel with Nigel, his popular TV show on PBS. He was active in Doctors Without Borders and spent time with me in Africa when I was there doing volunteer work, writing an investigative piece for my Honors project in Journalism at Columbia. He quickly became part big brother, favorite uncle and best friend to me. We'd been through so much together in Africa, and he'd seen me at my absolute worst but still stood by me. I felt as if he knew me almost better than I knew myself.
"Thank God for Nigel."
I pulled on my coat and left the bar, hailing a cab to take me to my father's apartment on Park Avenue. I decided to enter through the rear door to the building. I did not want to go into the front door where I knew everyone would be standing around with drinks in their hand, and all eyes would turn to me. My fourth mistake was thinking I could maneuver the back alley in the dark in those heels with two drinks in me. I was no match for the terrible cement with its cracks and loose gravel…
I fell just outside the door to the building, my ankle twisting, me going down on one side, my ankle, knees and the palms of my hands bearing the brunt of the fall. The only saving grace was that I was alone so no one witnessed my awkward tumble. My knees were cut by rough stones, my palms scuffed, and my ankle was killing me. My pride hurt almost as much as my other wounds.