Chapter Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
‘Wow, this really is something else,’ Mary whispered to herself, as she started towards the building, which was tinted a beautiful shade of purple, via several spotlights that sprang out of the front garden.
A red carpet guided every arrival up the long ramp that led to the arched entrance, where Mary was greeted by a young man in a white tux.
He checked her invitation before offering her a glass of pink champagne and ushering her into the wide, open courtyard, where laser lights projected a show of images against the main building, this time, to the sound of Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain.
This was what Mary imagined arriving at the Oscars would be like.
The paintings and works of art were being exhibited inside the building, but there were several guests hanging around the courtyard, mingling, chatting, smoking and enjoying the laser show.
Mary sipped her champagne while her eyes circled the small crowd outside; Thomas didn’t seem to be amongst them.
‘Canapé, ma’am?’ a waitress asked, walking up to Mary with a tray full of colorful hors d’oeuvre.
‘No, I’m alright for now, thank you.’
As the waitress walked away, a new group of guests walked through the arched entrance and into the open courtyard.
That was when Mary finally realized that all the men seemed to be dressed in tuxedos, and all the women were in very expensive-looking evening dresses – some quite extravagant in style.
Mary had spent a whole day in town searching for dresses, and despite the urge to spend a small fortune on a couple of designer numbers, in the end, she decided on a front-of-the-store, bean-paste, split-thigh, double-shoulder strap dress that truly accentuated her now slender and toned body.
For shoes, she picked a black pair of ankle-strap sandals, with stiletto heels and a stylish bow detail over her toes.
She complemented the look with a satin shawl over her shoulders.
Her jewelry was simple but classy, and her makeup had never been more on point.
‘Wow,’ Mary heard a male voice say from behind her. ‘You look… breathtaking.’
Mary turned to face Thomas, who was also dressed in a black tuxedo that seemed tailor-made, not a rental, but with a red bowtie that matched the handkerchief that just peeked out of his breast pocket.
His longish hair wasn’t tousled carelessly like when they first met – it was slickly combed back over his ears.
His eyes, as they met Mary’s, also seemed a little different…
brighter perhaps, as if right then they’d acquired a somewhat ‘happy sparkle’.
The bowtie, though, was slightly lopsided.
‘Oh, hello,’ Mary said, surprised. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘I was just in the gents, trying to fix this… thing…’ He pointed at his bowtie.
‘No matter how many times I’ve tried, I just can’t get it to stay straight.
I’ve watched at least five YouTube videos on how to tie a bowtie and just look at this.
’ He pointed at his neck before shaking his head.
‘I really have no idea of what I’m doing wrong. ’
Mary smiled. ‘Yeah, it’s definitely not straight.’
Thomas breathed out a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. ‘I knew I should’ve gotten one of those with an elastic band.’
‘May I?’ Mary asked, nodding at the bowtie.
‘You know how to tie a bowtie?’
‘I can give it a shot,’ she replied, matter-of-factly, handing Thomas her champagne flute. ‘Could you please hold this for me?’
Thomas took the flute as Mary stepped closer, lifting his collar and reaching for the bowtie.
It was only then that she got a noseful of Thomas’ cologne.
He smelled like that cool blast of fragrances that would hit her every time she walked past a perfume shop on the high street, or through the corridors of a duty-free shop at the airport.
‘Thank you for the compliment, by the way,’ Mary said, as she pulled the bowtie knot undone and began again. ‘But the invite you sent me said nothing about this being a gala evening. I feel seriously underdressed here.’
‘Underdressed?’ Thomas dipped his chin to look at Mary again. ‘You’re kidding, right? You look absolutely stunning, Mary. Hands down the most elegant and attractive woman here tonight.’
Mary’s smile was genuine, but she’d been in that same spot before, way too many times, actually – men complimenting her looks, her hair, her dress sense, her shoes, her perfume, showering her with gifts, acting like true gentlemen at first – just to turn into something completely different, practically overnight.
Mary had learned that sad truth the hard way, but right then, the sincerity in Thomas’ voice was somewhat disarming, and she had to gather all of her willpower not to blush.
‘For me to get this right,’ she said, her tone steady, ‘you need to stop moving.’
‘Sorry.’ Thomas did his best to stay as still as possible, though it seemed like he was having trouble keeping his eyes off Mary.
‘And you’re being too kind with your words, but thank you again.’
‘Just being truthful.’
‘There you go,’ Mary said, as she gave his bowtie a final tug to set it in place before folding his collar back down and taking a step back to get the full picture. Thomas looked impeccable. All he needed was a British accent and he could easily audition for the next James Bond.
‘Really?’ Thomas handed Mary’s champagne flute back to her before reaching into his inside pocket for his cellphone. ‘That quick?’ He unlocked the phone, entered camera mode, and quickly held it up in front of him like a mirror. ‘Oh my god, how did you do that? It’s perfect. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’ Mary nodded back at him. ‘And you look great, yourself. Very gentleman-chic, I’d say.’
Thomas chuckled. ‘Well, in that case,’ he offered Mary his arm, ‘may I guide you into the exhibition, madam?’
Mary smiled as she placed her arm through his. ‘You may indeed.’
As Thomas guided Mary towards the first exhibition hall, she couldn’t help thinking that talking to him felt both safe and dangerous at the same time. She just had no real idea of how dangerous yet.