Chapter and Verse (24 page)

“
Dorothy?  What are you gonna do?”

The sixty-four dollar question with only one correct answer.  The damage was done and there was nowhere to go but forward.  I’d given my word to my parents.  I couldn’t back out now.

“
I’m gonna let you measure me for my dress and think about a hairstyle.  Once I get that lined out, I’m going to the Liquor Mart and buy a bottle of Tequila.  Then me and Jose Cuervo are going to spend the night together.  Do you have a problem with that?”

“
Yes, but I’ll reserve judgement.  Want me to call and talk to Deacon for you?”

“
Nope.  He lives upstairs Mel’.  If he wants me, he knows where to find me.”

“
Think that’s a wise attitude to have at the moment?”

I took a deep breath and released it.

“
Probably not, but it’s the only one I’ve got.  Let’s do this dress thing, I’m losing the will to live.”

I didn’t hear from Deacon the rest of the week.  I had a feeling it would go that way, but it still hurt.  He had to know that this was exactly what I was afraid of.  The first time we had a difference of opinion and asserted myself, he ran.  He was proving MY point, not his.

I stayed busy with the coming event and I thanked the stars above that I had something to keep my mind and my time occupied.  If I sat still too long, I had a repeat of the week I’d had before I’d gone to the farm.  I could not allow myself to go through that again.  I promised myself I wouldn’t revisit that dark hole and I intended to keep that promise.

When Saturday afternoon arrived, so did my dress and Melody was right.  It was stunning.  The bronze satin shimmered in the light and it felt as light as a feather.  That was a plus in my book.  Heavy fabric would reflect my mood and I intended to make the most of this evening.  Hamm was nothing but an old friend now and we had lots to catch up on.  Once again, I planned to stay busy.

I shimmied into the dress and before I even looked at myself, I felt self-conscious.  The thing fit like skin.  Is was strapless with a built in bustier  that pushed my girls up into the ozone.  It didn’t look vulgar, just different.  The dress hugged my curves until just above my knees, where it flared out in a bronze ruffle that edged the dress all the way around the hem.  The split up the front would make it easier to walk, but I’d flash a bit of leg as I did it.  I felt like Carmen Miranda and I laughed at the visual.

I stood in front of the mirror and studied myself, looking for flaws or a reason not to wear it.  There were none.  The dress looked like it was made for me and it was.  No one else would have one like it and that was the handiest thing about having a designer at your disposal.  It even flattered my behind, and that alone, made it worth wearing.

I finished my makeup, then french braided my hair.  I placed three tiny bronze butterfly combs in strategic places in the braid and I was ready.  I looked sophisticated and hot.  Yes, I’ll admit that I looked hot.  When I stood and slipped into my heels, I rivaled my mother and sister.  I’d do my parents proud tonight and I was ready for it.

Hamm was nothing if not punctual.  He arrived at my building and the doorman buzzed to let me know.  I decided to meet him in the lobby instead of allowing him into my space.  Hamm didn’t need to know anything more about my living arrangements.

The look on his face when I walked out of the elevator gave me all the confidence I needed.  When I took his arm he was beaming as he leaned over and whispered.

“
Holy shit Dor’.  I hit the jackpot tonight.  You’re a vision and I’m one lucky man.”

I patted his arm and leaned into his side momentarily.

“
Yes Hamilton, you most certainly are.”

He threw his head back and laughed before assisting me into the back of the limo.

These formal affairs aren’t nearly as much fun as you think they are.  The room is always either too hot or too cold, the music is usually boring, and the chit chat is either charity or business related, or someone’s talking about Chip this or Muffy that and they’re never people you give two figs about.  Snobs are snobs and it’s universal.  Give me a bonfire on the beach with solo cups and hot dogs anyday.

Yet here I stood at Hamm’s side, trying to look interested and invested while being passed around like a bong at a frat party.  Everyone congratulated me for my father’s brilliance and I wholeheartedly agreed about two hundred times.  He was my father.  I’d written his biography.  I knew how brilliant he was.  Just once I wanted to hear about something he did that was off-color or out of character.  Now THAT I would have been interested in.  But no.

Finally, dinner was served and it was time for the awards ceremony.  Hamm and I made our way backstage to the sound of napkins being tucked and tableware clanging.  Hamm looked cooler than a frozen margarita, while I was hoping no one noticed my hands were sweating.  Being on public display was NOT my thing.

The charity’s organizer introduced us and we walked out together with smiles on our faces.  Everyone took their feet and applauded and I almost curtsied out of reflex before I stopped myself.  I wasn’t singing an aria, I was accepting a mounted crystal vase with my father’s name engraved on the pedestal.  It was lovely and I knew my mother would love it.

Hamm said something that was funny and I’d tuned completely out until everyone started laughing.  Then I heard his next line at the same time I felt eyes glued to me.

I found Deacon’s smoldering gaze at the same time as Hamm said:

“
Most people don’t know this, but this beautiful woman beside me turned down my marriage proposal many years ago.  Little did she know that we’d be together once again this evening.”

He winked at the audience who tittered with laughter, before he took his life into his own hands.

“
Who knows my friends.  Maybe this is fate.”

I’d never seen anyone actually lose it before.  I did the blinking thing and then noticed that the person sitting beside Deacon, was none other than Miranda.  He saw my expression and then he did the unthinkable.  He rested his arm behind her on her chair as if displaying her for my enjoyment.

Alrighty then, game on.

I turned a megawatt smile on Hamm and kissed him on the cheek (oh yes I did) and said loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “Hamm, you never know.”

The room erupted in applause and Hamm’s eyes went to the girls.  How predictable.  They were begging for a peek, but I wanted Deacon to be interested in what the dress did for my cleavage.  Not Hamm.  I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

Hamm began extolling my father’s virtues and I was impressed.  He didn’t need notes and he sounded as if he genuinely admired the man.  Since I was a charter member of my father’s fan club, the accolades warmed my heart and tickled a soft spot that I might still have had for Hamm.

He handed me the vase, I gratefully accepted on my father’s behalf, and Hamm kissed me on the cheek.  We got a standing ovation and for a second I felt like the Prom Queen.  We judiciously made our way back stage and down the stairs to the table we were assigned.  The table that happened to be adjacent to Deacon and Miranda’s.  This is my life folks.  I couldn’t make this shit up.

Hamm’s chair was back-to-back, but at an angle to Deacon’s.  There was enough room to walk between them, that’s how the servers were able to get around, but not so much room that we couldn’t hear what each other was saying if we really wanted to.  Since Hamm didn’t know Deacon, he could have cared less.  Deacon now not only knew who Hamm was, he knew what he looked like.  Hamm was no slouch.  He was easily as tall as Deke and had filled out nicely since college.  If I were free and meeting him for the first time tonight, well, let’s just say I might just make the same mistake twice.  But I wasn’t and I knew Hamm too well.  Unfortunately, I’d shared that story with Deacon and every so often, he’d shoot me a knowing smile.  The asshat.  To make things worse, Miranda would occasionally drop her head to Deacon’s shoulder and he’d smile.  He knew what she was doing and he allowed it.  After everything I’d told him about her; the awful things she’d said to me, he allowed it and he smiled.

This is what I’m talking about.  This intentional pain he inflicts on a whim, just to prove a point.  If I wasn’t ready or willing to let him take complete control over me, then there were plenty of women who were.  And he was happy to demonstrate that fact, with the one woman he knew would hurt me the most.  Yet he had the balls to tell me over and over again that I was “his”.  We were an “us”.  That it was “inevitable”.  Inevitable?  What looked inevitable to me was, he would continue to cause me pain for the rest of my life if I let him.

I couldn’t eat.  I managed a dinner roll to soak up the alcohol I planned on consuming.  I wouldn’t get too drunk, I didn’t want Hamm to find me vulnerable.  I also didn’t want to embarrass my father in any way.

Two glasses of champagne in, the music started and Hamm looked my way.  He appeared hopeful yet cautious and I decided to act on the hopeful.  Screw the Lone Wolf and the bitch he rode in on.

I placed my hand on Hamm’s and smiled.  That’s all he needed.

“
Dor’, will you dance with me?”

“
I was hoping you’d ask.  Let’s go.”

He stood and pulled my chair out, then extended his arm.  I took it and winked and felt the heat radiating from the next table.  Somebody was making scowly faces and it wasn’t Miranda.

Hamm may be a cad, but he can dance.  He had me gliding across the dance floor in no time and while we danced, we recanted good times we’d had together in college.  There was a reason we’d dated two years and I’d forgotten some of the fun we’d had when we were younger.

We were three dances in and giggling like eight year olds, when it finally hit the fan.  I heard the growl before I felt his presence.  Hamm was either oblivious to the danger he was in, or he’d decided I was worth fighting for.  That is almost as hilarious as it sounds.  Hamm never fought for me a day in his life.

I felt the heat near my back and I started to tremble.  Hamm must have felt it because he looked over my shoulder and I saw his eyes go wide.  Deacon put his hand on my shoulder and the dancing stopped.  I kept whispering to myself, “Please don’t cause a scene, please don’t cause a scene, please don’t....” like a mantra, but I knew better.  The press were here and they could smell trouble like a hound on a hot dog.  I knew this would be a page three photograph come tomorrow if things got out of hand.

Deacon gently but firmly, pulled me out of Hamm’s arms and Hamm looked like the playground bully just took his ice cream.

“
Excuse me, but she’s my date.  If you’d like a dance, you can ask the lady nicely.”

Leave it to Hamm to paint a happy face on a turd.

Leave it to Deacon to make him eat it.

“
I’m not asking the lady anything.  She’s mine.”

All that was missing was the jungle vines and the chest thumping.  I was mortified.  What made it worse, was that Hamm couldn’t take a hint.

“
Sir, we’re at a formal gathering of some very influential people.  I would think you could remember your manners.”

Oh yeah.  Like THAT was gonna work.  You need to remember that this whole time, we were standing on a dance floor in the middle of a ballroom, with people waltzing around us trying to act like they weren’t listening.  What was I doing?  The only thing I could think of.  I was swaying to the music as if everyone would think this was some new three-way dance move they’d never heard of.

Deacon put his arm around me as if possession was nine-tenths of the law and attempted to make his position clearer for poor Hamm the Clueless.

“
Henry, you’re starting to make me angry.  You won’t like me when I’m angry.”

Oh great.  Now he was the Hulking Asshat.  This was getting out of hand and I was just about to take a stand when Hamm beat me to the punch.  And oh what a punch it was.

“
Look, I don’t know who you are, as we’ve not been formally introduced.  But do you make it a habit of abandoning your date when you find another more suitable to your liking?”

Hamm slammed both of us with one well turned phrase and didn’t even realize it.  How does the saying go?  The truth hurts?

Deacon stiffened and I jerked out of his grasp.  To my credit, I didn’t immediately throw myself into Hamm’s.  I took a step back and looked at both of them, but I kept my voice low.

“
As a matter of fact Hamm, he does.  He also makes a habit of hurting people to prove a point.”

At that moment, I caught a flash of red and saw the look of devastation on Miranda’s face.  I had no clue that she was standing a few feet away, watching everything.  Never in my life did I ever think I’d come to her defense for anything.

Deacon saw where I was looking and turned to glance in that direction.  He saw her expression as well and then turned back to face me.

“
Dorothy, I didn’t mean to hurt you...”