newspaper. Carter hangs awkwardly back as the rest
of us gamely pose for a few photos. Even Bree smiles shyly as the photographers
snap away. The security car that's been following us pulls away with the
Escalade, leaving its three giant passengers to escort us up the steps to the
large, covered terrace.
There's a strong breeze coming off the water, but there are
tall heaters set up along the wall to counteract the chill. Women in glittering
gowns flit from conversation to conversation, as men in tuxes shake hands and
try not to talk business. My father and Anne are quickly surrounded, and I
instinctively reach out for a flute of champagne from a passing tray before I
remember my promise to myself.
"See how good I am?" I ask Carter, who is slinking
behind me at my elbow. He looks like he wants to melt into the floor and
disappear.
"Talk about self-restraint," he says with a wry
smile.
"Oh, thank god!" I hear behind me, and turn to see
Nikki making a beeline for me. She's disregarded the black tie dress code and
is wearing a short dress absolutely drenched in sequins. She gives me a quick kiss
on the cheek before turning to Carter. "My, oh my," she murmurs.
"Don't we look handsome." Carter grunts uncomfortably in reply.
"I didn't know you'd be here!" I say.
"Jonathan dragged me. I thought I was going to faint
from boredom before I saw you. You need a drink?"
"No, thanks."
"I'm on my third. Or somewhere around there. There's a
really beautiful painting in one of the first rooms inside," she confides.
"I think it would look great in our living room."
"It's a museum, not a gallery, Nikki."
"Everything's for sale, for the right price," she
says with a shrug. "I'm going to go find out about the seating
arrangements. I want to make sure we're at the same table."
"OK, but don't switch my—" I begin, but she's
already off. And I know she'll be able to make whatever changes she wants to;
she knows every event planner in town from hosting her own lavish parties.
"Look," Carter says, nodding across the water to
the shadowy turrets of the University of South Florida in the distance.
"Your future school."
"Do you agree with Jack? You think my father will like
the idea?"
"I don't know. He's a hard man to read."
"Well, one thing I think I know for sure. He's crazy
about your mom."
"Yeah? That's his crazy?" he asks, nodding toward
my father's impassive face.
I laugh. "Yup, believe it or not. That expression means
he's head over heels."
"Her too," he says. We watch Anne's face, upturned
toward Ray as he nods in agreement with someone. Nikki hurries back over with a
grin on her face.
"Fixed it! Moved our seats to your table. You won't be
sorry," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Oh, no. What does that mean?" I ask suspiciously.
"You'll see!" she replies gaily.
"Jonathan!" She hails her husband with a wave and goes scampering
off.
Jack and Bree find us, and we manage to escape much of the
small talk that we usually have to go through at these types of events. Jack is
only asked for a few photo opportunities, as most people here consider
themselves before asking someone for a selfie, even if he is an NFL star.
Eventually, the crowd starts to move inside, stopping to
find their names and table numbers at a banquette by the doors. The atrium is
softly lit, with huge centerpieces filled with orchids towering over every
table. In the middle sits a dance floor, though it's currently occupied by a
string quartet.
"Is there an auction or something?" Carter asks me
quietly as he glances around.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't they always raise money at these things?"
"Yeah, my dad bought the seats. Your donation is paying
for your spot at the table."
"So he paid for all of us..." he concludes with a
frown.
I nod. "It's really just a drop in the bucket for
him."
"Not for me. Everything has strings attached."
I can't disagree with that statement, and it is a relief to
have someone in the family be distrustful of my dad like I am.
of us gamely pose for a few photos. Even Bree smiles shyly as the photographers
snap away. The security car that's been following us pulls away with the
Escalade, leaving its three giant passengers to escort us up the steps to the
large, covered terrace.
There's a strong breeze coming off the water, but there are
tall heaters set up along the wall to counteract the chill. Women in glittering
gowns flit from conversation to conversation, as men in tuxes shake hands and
try not to talk business. My father and Anne are quickly surrounded, and I
instinctively reach out for a flute of champagne from a passing tray before I
remember my promise to myself.
"See how good I am?" I ask Carter, who is slinking
behind me at my elbow. He looks like he wants to melt into the floor and
disappear.
"Talk about self-restraint," he says with a wry
smile.
"Oh, thank god!" I hear behind me, and turn to see
Nikki making a beeline for me. She's disregarded the black tie dress code and
is wearing a short dress absolutely drenched in sequins. She gives me a quick kiss
on the cheek before turning to Carter. "My, oh my," she murmurs.
"Don't we look handsome." Carter grunts uncomfortably in reply.
"I didn't know you'd be here!" I say.
"Jonathan dragged me. I thought I was going to faint
from boredom before I saw you. You need a drink?"
"No, thanks."
"I'm on my third. Or somewhere around there. There's a
really beautiful painting in one of the first rooms inside," she confides.
"I think it would look great in our living room."
"It's a museum, not a gallery, Nikki."
"Everything's for sale, for the right price," she
says with a shrug. "I'm going to go find out about the seating
arrangements. I want to make sure we're at the same table."
"OK, but don't switch my—" I begin, but she's
already off. And I know she'll be able to make whatever changes she wants to;
she knows every event planner in town from hosting her own lavish parties.
"Look," Carter says, nodding across the water to
the shadowy turrets of the University of South Florida in the distance.
"Your future school."
"Do you agree with Jack? You think my father will like
the idea?"
"I don't know. He's a hard man to read."
"Well, one thing I think I know for sure. He's crazy
about your mom."
"Yeah? That's his crazy?" he asks, nodding toward
my father's impassive face.
I laugh. "Yup, believe it or not. That expression means
he's head over heels."
"Her too," he says. We watch Anne's face, upturned
toward Ray as he nods in agreement with someone. Nikki hurries back over with a
grin on her face.
"Fixed it! Moved our seats to your table. You won't be
sorry," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Oh, no. What does that mean?" I ask suspiciously.
"You'll see!" she replies gaily.
"Jonathan!" She hails her husband with a wave and goes scampering
off.
Jack and Bree find us, and we manage to escape much of the
small talk that we usually have to go through at these types of events. Jack is
only asked for a few photo opportunities, as most people here consider
themselves before asking someone for a selfie, even if he is an NFL star.
Eventually, the crowd starts to move inside, stopping to
find their names and table numbers at a banquette by the doors. The atrium is
softly lit, with huge centerpieces filled with orchids towering over every
table. In the middle sits a dance floor, though it's currently occupied by a
string quartet.
"Is there an auction or something?" Carter asks me
quietly as he glances around.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't they always raise money at these things?"
"Yeah, my dad bought the seats. Your donation is paying
for your spot at the table."
"So he paid for all of us..." he concludes with a
frown.
I nod. "It's really just a drop in the bucket for
him."
"Not for me. Everything has strings attached."
I can't disagree with that statement, and it is a relief to
have someone in the family be distrustful of my dad like I am.
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