The Notorious

#8 Dancing Under The Chandelier

I open my mouth and close again. After a few similar attempts to speak I realized, betraying me my voice has escaped my throat.

"Andrea," Mr. Kevitz speaks up, "is awfully poor at making jokes. You shouldn't take her seriously." His voice brutally stabs the awkward air around us including my pride.

I crack a broken laugh instead of a scream that I held nack.

"He is right, I am awful," I look between Mr. Kevitz to the man in front of us judging our every breath. "At making jokes I mean."

"It's okay," that toothy smile appears on his face and I never thought that I would be grateful for that.

"So, Mr. Gray," he claps his hands together, "after hearing about you for uncountable times we are finally meeting."

I nod finally understanding his words that are not Italian. But unlike me Mr. Kevitz nods with inflated arrogance.

Another gentleman greets us out of nowhere and in a few minutes, I am standing outside the circle that is revolving around Mr. Kevitz.

Andrea or Aurum all I know is that I don't belong here with them in their conversations or in their shenanigans.

"As the host is yet to come, lets raise our glasses ladies and gentlemen," the guests turn towards the real host of this party. His voice is echoing over the crowd. "Or shall we raise our guns?"

Hearing him the crowd fills the room with restrained chuckles and breathy laughs.

This man is also awfully poor at jokes but very less people seem to acknowledge that. They would've laughed even if he said nothing.

They raise their glasses and clink them with each other's. "Cheers to Mr. Cassidy." Hearing my father's name in their mouths something in my stomach painfully twists.

The somber music playing somewhere chiming with the murmurs of every one as they dances with their partners is exactly the premonition of disaster.

I try to study them, their mind, their insights but I am not Mr. Kevitz. They are like a book only kept open because it's known that none can read them simply.

Not one of them has come here without bearing a conspiracy that they need to commence and that's a given. The signs that they are sending each other without voicing their plans are enough.

I see some bodyguards positioning themselves around the party as a safety procedure if not for any suspicious reason.

Slipping through the crowd a graybeard man in gray suit stops in my way.

"If you are in need of a dancing partner, I will gladly_" he is stretching out his hand to me when I interrupt.

"No, No I am not in need of a dancing partner," I assure him with my hand defensively signing a No.

"But you look like you have no one to dance with," he insists. I might not have anyone to dance with but that certainly is not a green card to all the old elderlies present here. I would rather run than let them take a chance.

"I do have someone very special to dance with. No worries," with a smile I force my words on him.

"If you show me who that person is?" he looks around unconvinced by my words.

All the time I have to be the one to deal with weirdos.
I look around searching for a possible candidate as my dancer.

"Mr.  Kevitz," the old man calls out.

"Mr. Kevitz," taking that as a chance I call out for him too.

"Don't you think you kept me standing for too long after promising for a dance?" my voice is coated with lactose to put up a convincing act.

He gives me a puzzled look which is quite new in his face. If this situation wasn't serious, I would've laughed.

I take a step towards him; my eyes are probably begging him to understand.

"Did I? I don't remember such promise," glancing between me and that old man I am certain he knows what is the reason behind my pleas but he choose to take this as an opportunity to torment me.

"Come on, Mr. Kevitz," my grin is the indication of annoyance.

After staring at me keenly He nonchalantly shrugs giving no damn about my 'please' that I mouthed. And I without thinking much hastily grab the hem of his suit and pull him away from the responsible old man and amongst the dancing fools around me.

"What do you think you are doing. Ms. Aurum," he asks me when I let go of his suit abruptly as if shocked by electricity. But I am back in my senses is the highlighted fact behind my action.

"Is it because you don't know how to dance?" I shoot out to hide my stupidity.

"You always guess the opposite," he says without taking his gaze off me as if I am holding onto his eyes.

I find the old man judging us from afar, "Than why?" I ask.

"I don't dance with just anyone," and that is how he proved the jerk he is referring to me as just anyone as if he is ruling over the world. Despite of not wanting to feel hurt somehow his words affected me.

"Then dance with that man," I point to the old man with my eyebrows who threw me in this situation. "He looks quite desperate for a partner."

Without daring to hear any more insults I turn to go out of the gathering dancers. If I wasn't a fool I would never_ what the_ a couple of strong fingers clasp my wrist from behind sending heat all over my hands reaching out for my neck, a grip as light as feather that it makes me think I am imagining things. Things that I might've wanted to happen for a flickering moment.

I look at my hand and find it resting alone without anyone's grip. The heat is gone. I turn towards him don't know to confirm what.

"Just promise me you won't step on my feet when we dance," he says shooting his eyes at me with an expression as blank as an ultra-clean white page.

"I_" I pause and furrow. Doubting the possibility and the accuracy of what I've heard. "I don't step on feet while dancing, never, never ever" I answer almost too defensively.

A step closer and his words directly piercing my skin, "we are all ready then."

I gawk at the hand that he has offered and my eyes eventually travels all its way up his face.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asks.

And I take his hand forgetting all the insults that just came from this man. I am the one who started all this therefore I'll be liable for any unannounced outcome.