Page 62 of Hearts Held
Marcus shouts, “Fuck’s sake, Tilly, why don’t you shout it down the block! Go someplace else, you perverts!”
Tilly swiftly walks down the hallway to pull her and Bobby’s coats from the closet. “I’m going to ruin you,” she states.
“STOP!” Biscuit hollers.
“Please do,” Bobby says, then smacks her bum as they leave my town house.
“I’m going to go vomit,” Biscuit says as he goes to the closet and retrieves his coat. The cool winter air rushes into the hallway as he leaves after Bobby’s and Tilly’s lovestruck souls.
After I wash the glasses in the sink, I turn to find Marcus.
“Please don’t go to the party, Brielle.” His face holds some reservation.
“Why?” I ask. “What is it you’re hiding from me?”
He shakes his head. “It isn’t hiding anything from you, Bri. It’s a business party with other gangsters. Our girls are there and well, it’s the massage girls. It isn’t the fancy Christmas party that you’re thinking.”
I exhale in frustration as I feel Piggy come to sit by my side, his large frame leaning onto my leg.
“Why is it I’m being left out of this but I can see all the other horrible things that you gentlemen do? Hmm?” I sarcastically spit.
Marcus crosses his toned arms over his chest. “Brielle, this could be dangerous considering the other gangs will be there. They could mistake you for a massage girl or…” He trails off, not finishing his statement. His eyes are melancholy as he decides on his next statement. “Or you could change your mind about us. We don’t show you everything, Brielle, for you don’t need to be privy to certain things. It might make you hate us.”
Irritation climbs my shoulders as I tense. “Well, let me be the judge ofthat. I should know what I’ve truly gotten myself into, don’t you think? Is that not fair?”
He looks down at the tile floor in the kitchen as I place a finger under his chin.
“Is it not fair?” I ask again, softening my features so he will not think I am cross with him.
The black-and-red beading on the flapper dress glints within the chandelier-lit room. I hardly recognize the woman in the mirror, with long eyelashes, painted makeup and long curly waves cascading down her shoulders. I don’t believe I was this pretty at my wedding.
I stare at Seraphina’s handywork like it’s a painting in a museum.
“Goodness, dear, you’d think Medusa turned you to stone the way you keep staring at yourself.” She chuckles as she places dark red lipstick on her upper lip. Even the way she puts on lipstick is arousing. Her sleeveless dress is black, hugged tightly to her slender body. Though the dress is black from the outside, the interiorlining is red. There is a thigh-high slit that impressively does not reveal her knickers.
I look away before she catches me embarrassing myself even more than I already have.
“All right, deary, there will be many, many men at this party, so be aware they will probably all fancy you.” She smiles back at me in the mirror as she places the cap back on her lipstick. “But remember, just have fun with it. You’re single and there to mingle!”
I force a small smile from the corner of my mouth, starting to realize why Bobby and Marcus did not want Tilly and I at the event—though my stubborn personality insists I be curious.
The drive to the Morris Horn Hotel is gorgeous as all the streetlights twinkle with garland and festive designs. The decorations bring to life a winter wonderland atmosphere. Cars surround the establishment as music can be heard from the street.
Seraphina grabs my hand as we exit the vehicle, looping her arm with mine as if we were old friends.
“This is going to be so fun! You’ll see!” She states with excitement.
Vibrant music welcomes us into the ballroom. Off to one side of the room are individuals dancing upon the dance floor. Two bars are set up to the far side of the room as well as a long buffet table filled with various delectables. Large circular tables adorn the rest of the banquet hall where various individuals in beautiful flapper dresses or tightfitting cocktail gowns sit and speak with gentlemen wearing three-piece tweed or pinstripe suits.
My senses are engulfed with the smell of cigars, whiskey, food and various men’s colognes. It makes my head dizzy for a moment before I acclimate.
“Come, come!” Seraphina waltzes me inside and grabs a long champagne flute off a serving tray then hands it to me. “Drink up. It’s a party!” she exclaims. She eagerly watches me as I hold the glass to my lips, but I'm feeling uneasy about drinking, for I never really cared for alcohol.
To distract her, I spy Biscuit and give a small wave. He notices me and his eyebrows raise in concern. As Seraphina isn’t looking, I find a potted plant near the table and throw the contents within the soil.Sorry,I mouth to the plant and swiftly turn back toward Seraphina, who’s demeanor has completely changed.
Her shoulders are square and tense, her body rigid as if she is readying herself for a fight as Biscuit hobbles across the room, swimming through the sea of bodies. Before we can converse with him, Seraphina grabs my upper arm and marches me to the dance floor.
“Oi!” I hear Biscuit shout from afar. My confusion rises as to what Seraphina may be doing and why she was defensive regarding Biscuit’s approach.
