Page 130 of For the Boys
“It’s okay, Berk,” Brent said. “I’m used to it.”
Angling her body toward him, she gazed up into his face. The corner of his lip twitched, a telltale sign that he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. “Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should have to put up with it,” she said quietly.
“Berkley,” Brent warned, “we are not arguing about this right now.”
“You’re right; we’re not arguing. I’m simply stating a fact.”
Before Brent could respond, an announcement rang out informing them that the social chair of the third-year class would be announcing the silent auction prize winners and that they should take their seats.
Berkley listened and clapped politely as each name was read off, the winner going to the stage to accept their prize before being escorted to the back to settle up on their bid.
“And the winner of the four-day, all-expenses-paid trip to Aspen for next winter is…Brent Jean!” The entire room clapped, heads swiveling around in search of Brent.
It was Detroit, after all. His name was a household one.
Brent stood and made his way to the stage, every pair of eyes in the entire banquet hall following him.
Then the whispers started.
“Holy shit, that really is Brent Jean.”
“Oh my God, he’s so hot.”
“Why is he here?”
“Think he’d take a picture with me?”
“I don’t know what he sees in that Berkley girl anyway.”
Berkley’s blood pressure rose with each word spoken about her and her boyfriend, and Harper reached out to grip her hand. “Deep breaths, Berk. It’s fine.”
Closing her eyes, Berkley inhaled deeply, filling her lungs, letting it out slowly.
Then she took another breath.
And another.
By the time Brent returned, she had calmed down enough to not lose her composure in front of the who’s who of the Detroit law scene.
Since she had been on the planning committee for the entire event, Berkley felt obligated to stay and enjoy the band for a while. She and Brent danced, and she tried so hard to enjoy the night, but it had been ruined, her mood soured by the whispers and stares.
“Let’s go,” she finally said to him after a girl walked by and called Berkley a slut under her breath.
“What’s wrong? I thought you didn’t want to leave until it was over.”
“Please, Brent. Can we just go home?”
Brent nodded. “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. I’ll go get our coats.”
She followed him to the coat check and watched as the attendant, upon recognizing him, asked for a selfie. Brent obliged, and Berkley rolled her eyes.
When they were safely in the truck and on their way back to Berkley’s, Brent broke the silence. “What happened back there?”
“I just wanted one night to be about me,” she said. “And it ended up being about you.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brent’s forehead crease. “What are you talking about?”
“Everywhere we go, you attract all of this attention.”
