The Law of Attraction

(6)

I don't want to be doing this, and yet at the same time I'm excited for the opportunity to feel so feminine.

My delicate ruby painted finger tips smooth out the front of my long red dress that wraps around my subtle curves like a vice.

I wobble slightly in my heels, but regain my balance after a small episode of panicked stumbling in place.

It's been a few days since my very lewd and unprompted counter top finger romp with William, and honestly I haven't really seen him much since then.

He's avoiding me. I know it, and I know that I can't really blame him. What we did was completely wrong, and how do I even look him in the eye after he's felt my insides with his finger tips?

A light rapping on my bedroom door pulls me out of my memories and back to the aching present. My father walks in after waiting a moment, his body expertly clad in an expensive suit, and his tie tied so perfectly you'd assume it was a clip on.

"You look absolutely stunning, Bells. Calvin won't know what hit him." My father says, placing a chaste kiss on my temple in typical fatherly fashion.

I roll my eyes slightly and bite my blood red stained lip in subtle nervousness. Calvin isn't who I'm targeting with this dress, though I suppose if he likes it too then that's a win.

"Now don't go planning our wedding." I scold my father, trying to prevent him from getting his hopes up too high incase things go the way that I expect them to.

The way that ends in me bored out of my mind because all this rich boy wants to talk about is how rich he is. It's not that I have anything against someone with a silver spoon, heaven only knows that I've been privileged my entire life, but men wear it differently.

"I wouldn't dare. I know better." My father laughs and pats my shoulder. "Let's get going." He adds and I nod, grabbing my black clutch off of my bed and following him out of my bedroom.

William plans to meet us there, my fragile heart not completely ignorant to the fact that he could be bringing a date. I'm my fathers plus one, but who will be Williams?

I try to bite back my uncharacteristically jealous attitude and try instead to focus on Calvin. No matter what William gets up to tonight it's none of my business. I'm simply here to make a good impression with Calvin, and help my father stay on good terms with the Welsh's.

Our car pulls up to an immaculate Tudor mansion with a whimsical iron gate keeping the shrubbery and cobblestone safely caged inside.

The roofing is pointed and splayed just like a castle would be, and the dark wood paneling that adorns the exterior makes me feel like I've stumbled upon an eighteenth century fairytale.

The iron bars creak open to allow us inside, several cars following us as we are lead to the acceptable parking areas by a man in a sleek black tuxedo with a curly mustache.

My heart is hammering in my chest, practically in my throat, as I stare at all of the well dressed women and their cookie cutter husbands.

Why am I here again?

I can't help but wonder. What kind of people invite their lawyer to such a stuffy occasion? And bloody hell, how much is my father making off of this?

One of the butlers opens my car door for me before my father gets the chance to, flashing me a very debonair smile. The man looks to be about thirty something, the familiar cuts of laugh lines just starting to decorate his face.

"bonsoir belle fille." The man greets me, causing a subtle blush to creep up my neck.

Good evening beautiful girl.