Masquerade

Chapter Two

I open my mouth just to close it again, unsure of how to answer the question. Do I want a break? Yes. But do I want to take a break with him? No.

I will admit, this man is handsome. I find myself struggling to take my eyes off him, especially when he is looking at me so intently. I don't think I've ever received this much attention from a man, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.

However, I just saw him flirting with Wren. A married woman. He probably didn't see the ring at first (even though Wren insisted he must have), but even after she rejected him he still kept his eye on her. And now he's suddenly interested in me?

My parents told me about men like this, and this stranger checks off all the boxes of their description. According to them, he is not someone I want to be around.

With a sudden bout of confidence, I lift my chin and look him in the eyes. "Thank you, sir, but I'm just fine."

"Forgive me, but I saw you massaging your arm earlier. You've been holding that spatula the whole night. A lady shouldn't work like that for so long, so I was wondering if you would let me take your place."

I blink. I wasn't expecting such an offer. I thought this man was going to come over here and give me mindless flattery, then ask me to dance. I am pleasantly surprised by his chivalry, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that he's cycling through women. He doesn't truly care for me, I'm sure; there is some ulterior motive.

"That is very kind, but I assure you I'm quite alright. I would prefer to keep serving the pies if you don't mind." I hold onto the politeness my mother taught me to have, wishing I could just ask him to leave.

The man processes this for a minute. "Well, I must admit that I am only slightly concerned about your arm; I'm more worried for your happiness. It must be hard serving food while watching everyone else enjoy the dancing. It's such a waste for a lovely madam like you to hide back here."

I stare, wondering if I heard him correctly. I most definitely do not look lovely.

"Since you won't allow me to assist you," the man continues, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to be a little selfish. I've been watching you from afar for quite a while, and I'm set on the desire to dance with you. If I can't help you, will you help me by gracing me with a dance?" He steps slightly closer, a small grin still lining his features.

My confidence is dwindling, and I can feel myself wanting more and more to give in to this stranger. I love to dance, but I never get asked. Standing right in front of me is an opportunity that I know I should take.

But yet, I can't shake the feeling that this whole conversation is a charade. He doesn't want me; he wants someone like Wren. I'm simply his backup.

However, I can't ignore the way I feel right now. My heart is fluttering in my chest, and I feel nervous but wonderfully elated. My mind is a battle, constantly switching between two choices. I want to run off and never see this smooth-talking stranger again. I am frustrated by the control he has over my feelings, and I am even more frustrated by the fact that I am nothing but his second choice.

"Sir, you must have me confused with someone else," I sigh, no longer able to meet his eyes. "I'm not someone you wish to dance with. The room is filled with lovelier ladies, so I must admit I'm unsure why you came over here." I turn away, trying my best to focus my attention back on the pies.

"I assure you our meeting was intentional," the man whispers. I am suddenly very aware of how close our faces are. "I know you saw me talking to your friend earlier, and I will admit I am a flirt. But my being a flirt has caused me to meet countless women and realize the similarities between them. I'm afraid to say the only unique thing about your friend is her appearance, which is surface level. But you radiate an inner beauty that cannot be ignored. I saw you and knew I could not leave without knowing more about you."