I often said every person who attended the mind-numbingly boring events that I was forced go to, was a self involved, arrogant, too-rich-for-their-own-good bore.
He wasn’t.
We met at one of those charity events, he was donating money and smiling brightly at whoever passed, I was being the token daughter, sitting beside my father and shaking hands with everyone I was supposed to. He sat at a table, looking quite alone as people swarmed around him, but no one was speaking to him. He was playing with his napkin and I couldn’t help but notice the way his tongue poked out as he folded it into an intricate shape that must have taken him years to master. He looked up and caught my eye, his eyes making me feel naked under his gaze. I quickly averted my gaze to the tables, cursing myself for staring. After a few seconds, I shyly lifted my head to see him looking back at me. He lifted a hand and gave me a slightly wave, a grin on his handsome face. I blushed, checked to make sure no one was looking, before waving back.
Later on, after another round of introductions, I exited the stuffy room onto a balcony, in desperate need of air. The superficial crowd back in the room seemed to be smothering me and the glasses of champagne I had consumed were beginning to make me feel light-headed.
And there he was. His hands deep in his pockets, his tie loosened and his expression placid. He looked far more casual than any of the other men still in the room and his relaxed attitude was so refreshing to me after hours of stiff conversation.
“Hey,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips.
I felt my cheeks flush for no reason. “Hello.”
“Looks like you’re having as much fun as me in there.”
I nodded and tried to hide my smile, my hands smoothing over my ridiculously expensive dress self-consciously. I reached into my purse and pulled out a cigarette, just for something to do under his cool gaze, and offered him one.
He shook his head. “No thanks,” he patted his throat. “Not good for the voice.”
I nodded in understanding, even though I didn’t understand at all and lit my cigarette, my hands shaking slightly as I inhaled deeply. He still watched me, fascinated by my every move.
“So,” I began, trying to make conversation and feeling more relaxed now I had my cigarette. “What brings you to this laugh-a-minute event?”
He chuckled and scuffed his feet. “Gotta give something back, you know?”
I nodded, taking this to mean he was giving something to charity, even though the way in which he had said it was so obscure.
“You?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Just here with my father.”
“Ah yes, the infamous Alexander Jordan,” he muttered knowingly.
“How did you know?” I asked, my eyes widening slightly and a hint of shame in my voice. My father was a strict businessman who, although not unkind, was never meant to have children.
I saw a hint of a blush creep onto his cheeks. “I was looking at you for quite a while before you looked back.”
I felt a smile spread across my features. “Well, there isn’t much else to do in there apart from stare at people and pick out their faults.”
He laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to erupt from his body. “Trust me, I wasn’t picking out your faults.”
“Oh,” I said shyly, looking at the ground. “Then what were you doing?”
He smiled, exposing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “The opposite.” My heart fluttered at his compliment and he moved forward slightly, his cocky grin still in place. “I was checkin’ you out.”
I giggled at his sudden drop into casual terms. “Well, thank you, but I doubt that could have been much more interesting than talking to the people in there.”
“You'd be surprised." His grin never left his face and I found it infectious. "And then I was thinking how good people such as ourselves get dragged into events such as this.”
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “A valid question.”
“And then I was thinking I shouldn’t be staring at this girl whose daddy is sitting right next to her.”
I laughed bitterly. “I sincerely doubt he noticed.”
His expression turned serious and he opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden tap on his shoulder forced him to turn around. I heard him mutter a few words to another man, before turning to me apologetically.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Oh,” I felt my heart drop. “Well, um, it was nice meeting you.”
He flashed me one last grin. “Oh, I think we’ll be meeting each other again.”
He gave me a quick wave before I could answer and was ushered away. I turned to the garden that lay below me and smiled as I stubbed out my cigarette. I didn’t even know his name, and yet I was totally infatuated by him.
And trust me when I say we did meet again, but that’s another story.
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