Chapter and Verse (5 page)

I step into the shoes and the whole thing comes together.  This is as good as it gets.  I look like a different woman.  I’m now a notable five-foot-seven.  My dress is emerald green silk that catches the light as if holding on for dear life.  The top is a corset design, pulling in my waist and flares at my hips into a comfortably full skirt.  It’s not what you would call a ball gown, but the flare is enough for me to walk comfortably.  There’s no slip beneath it, so when I walk, it shows the outline of my legs and if I do say so myself, running has been my friend.  I have toned, shapely legs and the dress accents that asset nicely.  I look naughty, yet nice.  I look good enough to be with Deacon Sloan.

My sister is chewing nails, waiting for a comment of some kind.

“
Well?”

“
I’d cry but you’d kill me for ruining my makeup.  You outdid yourself and I’m not sure how I’ll repay you.”

Her smile is enough.  She’s practically hopping with excitement.  We’re so busy congratulating ourselves that we almost miss the chimes announcing his arrival.  Our eyes grow huge and all I can mange is, “Eep!”

Melody runs to the door before I can stop her and throws it open.  I start walking down the hall, that suddenly seems like the longest hall every made, and notice that he’s standing at the end of it.  My sister looks like the cat that ate the canary as she chews on her bottom lip with a wicked gleam in her eye.  A gleam that thankfully, he can’t see, as she’s standing to his side and slightly behind him.  His eyes are on me.

My first thought is if I thought I looked good, I had no clue what “good” really was.  Deacon Sloan in a three piece suit is yummy.  Deacon Sloan in a tux is panty melting.  Sincerely.  I’m not just saying that.  He.  Is.  Devastating.

As I get closer I see that he's clenching and unclenching his hands as if he’s nervous.  That’s almost comical to consider because this man commands any room he’s in.  Nervous?  No way.  Yet, that’s how it seems to me.  That little voice inside me is grinning and singing the theme from the Love Boat.  I inwardly cringe.

I stopped in front of him and he leaned towards me.  Unsure of what my move should be, I elect to stand still.  Actually, the shoes made that decision.  I forgot to practice going backwards.  Whoops.

His breath was warm against my ear and I almost started swaying but I held firm, holding it together.

“
You’re breathtaking Dorothy.  I cannot tell you how pleased I am.”

He leaned back, waiting for my reaction.  My face must’ve betrayed me because now he’s smirking, making it easier for me to gather my thoughts.

“
Hey, I’ve got the hottest date in town tonight and I had to stake my claim.  You clean up nice yourself there Deke.”

My sister’s chin hit the floor and I gave her “the look”.  She put her hand over her mouth and recovered quickly.  Deacon?  The jury was still out.

He tilted his head, trying to decide if I was kidding and going for effect, or serious and trying to scare the shit out of him.  He must have went for the humor because I got the full dimpled smile and my heart began to race, but I smiled in return and winked.  He shook his head and offered his arm, which I gratefully took.  The shoes were still vacillating on whether or not to behave.

As we walked out the door, I pressed my luck and looked over my shoulder at Melody.

“
Don’t wait up.”

I felt him stutter a step and I started laughing.  He shook his head as he pressed the elevator button.

“
You’ll be the death of me Dorothy, I swear it.”

I touched his nose and smiled.

“
You need to lighten up Deke.  I’m harmless.”

The elevator door opened and he ushered me inside.

“
Why are you calling me Deke?”

I thought a moment and then remembered.

“
Anton called you that and it suits you.  Don’t worry, I won’t call you that in public.”

He relaxed and patted the hand I had curled into his arm.

“
Thank-you.  I appreciate that.”

The doors opened to the lobby and we took a step out of the elevator.

“
In public, I’ll call you, Sir.”

“
Dorothy....”

He was doing that jaw flex thing and I knew I’d pressed my luck for the moment.

“
God you’re easy.”

He shook his head and opened the door of the building where a sleek black limo waited at the curb, the back door open with the chauffeur waiting patiently.  He felt the stutter in my step and grinned, pulling me a little closer.

“
Well what do you know?  I finally scored a point.”

I glanced at him and he looked almost boyish in his glee.  I smiled because I liked that look on him.  He looked carefree and happy.  For a second his walls were down and I saw the “great guy” his brothers spoke of.

I was in over my head from the minute we pulled up to the entrance.  We were positioned so that he would exit first, but I held him back a moment.  A seemingly endless red carpet stretched out before us leading to the front door and photographers stood poised at the ready for the next famous face they would capture for the society pages tomorrow.  Was it daunting?  Hell yes it was daunting and I wasn’t ready.  Not even close and I didn’t mind speaking up.

“
Deacon, wait.”

He turned to me in confusion and then realization filled his eyes, closely followed by something that I interpreted as sympathy.

“
Hey, there’s no reason to be nervous.”

I was unconvinced and he saw it.

“
Dorothy, breathe.  Listen to me babe.  You look positively edible.  Trust me, I’ve been to enough of these things to know what will work and what won’t.  You, are going to turn heads and I’m lucky to have you by my side.  Don’t think I don’t realize that, I do.  We can do this because we’ll do it together.  Okay?”

I stared at him looking for some kind of sign that he was bullshitting me.  Something.  Anything.  But it wasn’t there.  He believed what he was telling me, I could see it in his eyes.  He tried one more thing and it was a low blow.

“
Dor’, do you trust me?”

And there it was.  I was Dorothy Lincoln.  Daughter of Brian and Catherine Lincoln.  If I looked ridiculous or fell flat on my face tonight, it not only reflected on me, it reflected on them.  There was a lot at stake and suddenly all of the confidence I had in front of that full length mirror back at my apartment, faded into mist.  I had zero faith in myself and it was a strange and foreign feeling.

Deacon waited patiently for my response and in turn, he didn’t seem to give a flip if the photographers waited as well.  His focus was on me and I drew from that.

“
Yes.  I trust you Deacon.”

He gave me the full dimple smile and something about it calmed me down.  I could do this.  I could do this because Deacon Sloan said I could.

“
You ready?”

I couldn’t find the words so I nodded rapidly, my curls bouncing on my shoulder.  He winked and wove the fingers of his left hand through the fingers of my right.

“
Then let’s kick this pig babe.”

I started laughing and he gently pulled me from the limo before he wrapped his arm around me and rested his hand on my hip.  It took me a second to see it for what it was.  He was protecting me.  I looked up at him and found him looking down at me.  The cameras flashed like crazy, capturing our moment.  I’d have to stop on my way home in the morning and grab the papers.  I wanted to see that picture.

He responded with “hello’s” at the appropriate time, his CEO smile plastered firmly in place.  I knew the difference now, I was beginning to understand the man.

I thought the attention would diminish once we got inside.  I was sadly mistaken.  The place was filled with beautiful people and my blinking resumed.  Deacon used his free hand to signal a waiter and soon we were both holding champagne flutes.  He stayed glued to my side, his hand resting possessively on my hip.  To avoid standing directly in front of him, I snaked my arm around him and my hand rested lightly on his back.  When he noticed it there, he turned to me, a question in his eyes.  I took a sip of champagne and did my best to look nonchalant.

“
Convenience.”

He smiled in understanding and continued to lead me through the crowd.  He stopped in front of a doorway, and waited to give someone our names.  I took the opportunity to peek inside and gasped.  The tables were draped with gold colored tablecloths and small domed candles sat in the middle of each.  A large space had been cleared in the center for dancing, and a string quartet played softly in the background.  Tuxedos and gowns added a touch of luxury and importance to the room, the crystal chandeliers making various jewelry shimmer.  I was in awe of the space and the occasion.  Something magical was happening here and tonight, I was in the company of the wizard.

People turned to stare when we entered the room and as much as I tried to convince myself I was mistaken, I knew that was not the case.  Women openly gaped and men raised their glasses in our direction.  Whether they were toasting him or me, I wasn’t certain and I didn’t want to think about it, if I’m being honest.  Deacon was keeping me grounded and as long as he was there, so was the magical bubble.  I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that if we separated, all bets were off.

He led us around the room as if he did this everyday.  I was impressed and my biographer’s mind filed this away for future reference.  He owned this room and people waited their turn to greet him and to greet me by association.  He made proper introductions, never leaving me out.  He introduced me as his “date” and I didn’t correct him the first time he did it, so that was the term for the evening.  I understood that it meant nothing, it was easier than explaining I was observing as his biographer.  I grew comfortable at his side.

I have a theory that applies here.  Is it me, or do you find that things tend to go down the toilet with an extra flourish the minute you get comfortable?  I think it’s because you get complacent.  You stop checking the exits or the floor ten feet in front of you.  You think you’re home-free, and then wham.  There they are.

I didn’t even notice them until we were almost on top of them and it was too late to distract Deacon and lead him away.  It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, they’d already seen us.  Let me be specific.  My parents - who are also major contributors - were staring at what appeared to be a personal relationship between one Deacon Sloan - wealthy eligible bachelor - and their daughter.  Not the obvious beautiful daughter mind you, but the verbose, goofball, clumsy daughter.  This rated right up there with mom’s cleaning lady leading George Clooney around by a nipple ring.  You laugh, but I’m deadly serious here.  To make matters worse, Deacon was floating down a line of people, blindly walking right into their web.

We were four couples away and my parents were watching every nuance of every interaction.  They resembled two afghan hounds trying to figure out the Hadron Collider.  I knew that escape was futile, I was hoping to minimize damage and save my fledgling friendship with Deacon.  We were doing so well and I had high hopes for this book.  I was already working on my opening remarks.  If they blew this for me in the average parental way, I swear I would crawl into a hole and bury myself.

Deacon was deep in conversation and I didn’t have it in me to be rude.  I lightly tapped him on the back.  Nothing.  I ran my hand down his back to his waist.  He glanced at me and smiled, then resumed his conversation.  Damn it.  I squeezed his waist and he squeezed mine in return.  Did he think I was flirting?  Really?

The next couple in line jumped into the conversation and we took two steps to the left; two steps closer to death by embarrassment.  I began to sweat.  No wait.  Ladies in expensive evening gowns don’t sweat, they perspire.  I was perspiring like a nun in a strip bar.  My life was flashing before my eyes because I could hear the assumptions that were swirling in my mother’s mind.  She wore them like a banner in her eyes.

We were coming down to the wire and I went for it.  I glanced quickly behind us and seeing the coast was clear, I pinched Deacon on the ass.  Now THAT got his attention.  His eyes flew to me and it was him that was blinking this time.  While I had the advantage, I leaned into him and whispered as quickly as I could.

“
My PARENTS are right there and they’re going to assume we’re together.  Do NOT take them seriously Deacon.  Please.”

I leaned back and reinforced my plea with my eyes.  Oh sweet baby Jesus what I saw next made my blood turn to ice and my ovaries harden into diamonds.  He narrowed his eyes and playful Deacon made an appearance.  The dimples deepened and he actually waggled his eyebrows at me.  If I knew Morse Code, I’d have known I was blinking, “I will fucking kill you” in rapid succession, over and over.

I was still blinking when I found myself standing directly in front of my father, Deacon was in front of my mother.  All three were looking at me.  Waiting.  I stuttered and blinked before I regained control of my vocal cords and sighed.