Chapter Three: Dances with Stags
After dinner, during which the orchestra played suitably slow accompaniments to the meal, the music sped up a bit. It was time to dance.
The governor and his wife opened the dance but pretty soon, other people were joining them on the dance floor. Rachel watched from her corner of the room, swaying a bit to the beat of the songs. She wasn’t here to dance though. She was here to network.
“May I have this dance?”
She turned to see the stockbroker holding out his hand, a smile on his face. She opened her mouth to say she wasn’t here to dance but he beat her to it.
“Please.” he said, “Just one dance.”
It would be rude to refuse she thought. Plus she really liked the tune they were playing.
“Alright,” she said with a nod as she placed her hand in his. Just one dance.
She was on the floor all night. First one partner then another whirled her about like she was the princess she looked like. She didn’t recognize half of them seeing as it was a masquerade ball and most people were wearing masks. Rachel couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.
There was a curious prickling along her shoulder blades on and off all night though. It felt like she was being watched. She would glance around, trying to see who or what could be causing that sensation but all around her were dancing couples and nothing else. She finally decided that she was being silly and just tried to keep her mind on her current dance partner.
“May I cut in?” a silky smooth voice said in her ear as the next dance came to an end. She shivered involuntarily and looked around to see who-
Her gaze went up and up and up to behold a man in a beast mask. For a moment, she thought wildly that she should definitely have gone with the beauty and the beast outfit. In spite of the stag mask he was wearing with impossibly long horns, Rachel was struck by him. Something about him was familiar even though she knew that if she’d ever met this man before she would most definitely remember.
“Er…” she said even as his warm hand enveloped hers and pulled her close. Her mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. Before she could say another word or think another thought, she was floating around the dance floor in his arms. His eyes…she could not stop staring at them. They were curiously green or hazel, perhaps shifting in the light. Were they contacts? She couldn’t tell. She could tell that they went very well with his stag mask. How could a mask be so captivating? Surely bits of synthetic fur and painted plasticine should not be so compelling.
“Your…mask is…” she ventured to say.
“I thank you. I like your costume as well. The silver brings out the color of your skin most attractively.”
Rachel found it hard to even blink, “Er, th-thank you. You’re…very tall.”
The man laughed. Rachel could feel the vibration of his mirth against her bosom. She felt her heart speeding up at the sound. This was quite ridiculous.
“I hope that is a compliment. Do you like tall men?” he asked.
“Huh?” Rachel was too caught up in his mesmerizing eyes to pay much attention to this words.
“I said do you like tall men?” he asked again.
He had to know what he was doing to her. The thing with his eyes and the staring and the…hypnosis. It had to be deliberate.
Right?
“Uhh…” she said throat working, “Yes?”
“Is that a question? Are you not sure?”
Rachel blinked, shaking her head slightly like a wet dog before looking back at him, “I…meant that yes, I do enjoy a tall man.”
The man in the mask smiled. Yes his mask covered his mouth but somehow, Rachel could tell he was smiling.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly and would have immediately clamped a hand to her mouth if he wasn’t holding one and the other curved around his shoulder like her life depended on it.
“My name is Brendan,” he said, seemingly unfazed by her blushing embarrassment, “Brendan O’Brien.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Rachel.” She said.
“Rachel,” he rolled the name around his tongue like it was a piece of candy, “Beautiful name.”
“Thanks,” Rachel replied with a pleased grin. She didn’t know why but she was really glad he liked her name. They floated around the dance floor until the song came to an end.
“Can I buy the lady a drink?” Brendan asked.
Rachel smiled, “I believe it’s open bar,” she said.
“Nevertheless…” Brendan countered.
Rachel shrugged, “Why not?” she said.
He seemed inordinately pleased, “Come right this way my…” his voice trailed off without saying what of his she was. Rachel wanted to stop him, make him finish the sentence but it was really too early in their acquaintance for such familiarity. So she let it go. But she didn’t forget.
***
He brought her a mimosa. Rachel felt really fancy drinking it because she’d never had champagne before. It was a heady feeling and she wallowed happily in it for a while.
“Is this your first ball? I have not seen you here before,” Brendan ventured to ask.
Rachel laughed, “You sound like one of those guys in bars who ask you, ‘do you come here often?’ Yes, this is my first ball.”
Brendan took a step back looking disconcerted, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
Rachel put her hand on his arm before he could complete the sentence, “It’s perfectly alright,” she said, “I was just teasing you.”
“Oh,” Brendan said sounding supremely relieved, “That’s great. So are you enjoying yourself?”
He sounded nervous like he was trying to put himself out there and be interesting. Rachel wanted to pat him on the arm and tell him to stop trying to hard but thought it might be a little too familiar for their short acquaintance. Instead she smiled brightly and began to tell him about Barry and Sergio and how she’d gotten to the ball through their machinations.
“Like the story of Cinderella,” Brendan commented after staring intently at her the whole time she was telling him the story. Rachel grimaced.
“I don’t really like that reference. Cinderella was such a damsel in distress don’t you think. Sitting around moping, waiting for other people to rescue her. I’d rather prefer beauty and the beast myself.”
Brendan did that thing where Rachel was sure he was smiling. His eyes were certainly shining, ”Yes, I like that one too.”
“Is that why you’re wearing the stag mask?” she asked and he reared back as if struck.
“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to-” Rachel’s mouth stayed open, not sure what she hadn’t meant to do. Scare him? Insult him?
“I-it’s quite alright. I was just…I-..I shall get us some water since you say it is the first time you have drank a mimosa,” he said before walking quickly away. Rachel watched him walk away, feeling slightly stupefied. She felt like she’d done something really bad but she didn’t know what it was. She took a deep breath, hoping he was really getting water and coming back so she could apologize again for whatever it was that had just happened. She hadn’t known him long, but she really liked Brendan. She felt like they could be friends. Maybe even more than friends, who knew? But first he had to come back and give her another chance.
She watched him disappear between two groups of tuxedo-clad men, slowly sipping her mimosa and going over their conversation, looking for the place where she might have slipped up. Lines appeared on her forehead as she thought hard, earth colored eyes far away. She was startled by a hand on her forehead, smoothing out her wrinkles.
She turned to see Brendan smiling down at her, a glass of water in one hand while the other slowly ran a finger down her temple before reluctantly leaving her face. Her eyes followed the progress of that finger, mouth slightly open in surprise.
“Why the frown?” he asked in a soft voice and her eyes moved from his hand to his eyes. She smiled.
“Nothing. Just worried that I’d offended you.”
“Well you didn’t.” he said offering her the water as he smiled back at her.
“Good.”
She took a sip of the water just to please him but then went back to her mimosa. She just loved the heady citrusy taste.
“So,” she said determined to steer the conversation towards happier things, “What do you do with yourself?”
Brendan opened his mouth seemed to think better of it and closed it again, ”Uh, I er, am an investor,” he said.
Rachel perked up, “Oh you are? That’s so great because I’m looking for investors!”
“Oh yeah?” he seemed strangely relieved, “That’s good. What do you do?”
“I run a coffee shop over on the East side,” Rachel said and proceeded to tell him all about the Split Bean and what a unique and fun investment it would be for anyone looking to diversify their portfolio.
“Well, I am intrigued, when can I come and have a look?” Brendan asked.
Rachel did a mental hop, skip and jump, already mapping out a business plan and trying to think when a good time would be for him to visit the shop.
“Well first things first, you must come around and taste our coffee.”
Brendan nodded, “That seems wise,” he said solemnly, “would tomorrow be a good time? Oh no, you’ll probably be tired from the ball and sleep in. Maybe the next day?”
Rachel almost laughed at his comment. Sleep in? In whose house? Her mother’s? Pigs would fly first. She would be expected to be at the shop at 5am, just like always.
‘Damn, I really am Cinderella,’ she thought wryly to herself.
“Well I expect you will be in need of rest after carrying that stag head around all night so yes, let’s say day after tomorrow.”
Brendan seemed to be just as excited about the whole deal as she was, “I shall be there bright and early. What time do you open?”
Rachel’s twinkling laughter rang with delight as she toasted to him, “Oh we are open at 6:30 a.m. so you’re welcome for breakfast.”
He clinked his glass against hers, “I very much look forward to it Rachel Hart.”
Rachel’s smile was wide and thrilled, “I look forward to it too.” She said.
She drank down her mimosa feeling that her presence at this ball had been vindicated fully. Not only had she found an investor for the business, but he was also a great guy who knew how to treat a woman. It was almost too good to be true.