AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes quickly scan down my dress, a short simple black thing, unassuming except for its tight fit. I have a wrap covering my shoulders, not enough to battle the cool New York temperatures, but at the moment, I don’t feel a thing.
My parents look at each other, then over their shoulders, trying to determine who he’s looking at because surely it can’t be me. Then he turns, walks straight for me, and leans down to plant a kiss directly on my mouth. It’s unexpected. Brief, but sweet. And just like that, the last two days are wiped clean. They’re nothing compared to how he makes me feel. My cheeks grow hot as the cameras continue flashing. Derek wears a proud smile. I want to poke his side and berate him for drawing so much attention to us, but then I realize we’re being watched by more than just the press.
My parents are gaping, eyes wide, utterly confused.
“Um…Mom, Dad…this is Derek,” I say as he turns to them.
My mom shakes her head. “Are you…I’m sorry, are you a friend of Avery’s?”
She apparently missed the part where we exchanged saliva.
Derek smiles and stretches his hand out toward her. “I’m Derek Knightley, Whitney’s boyfriend. It’s good to meet you both.”
After shaking my father’s hand, he suggests we move inside—since the cameras are still flashing away—and my parents do exactly as they’re told. I’ve never seen them so awestruck.
“I’m sorry, did you say you’re Whitney’s boyfriend?” my mom asks, trying to clarify things once we’re in the lobby.
Does she have to look so surprised? Honestly.
My dad is even more confused. “Whitney didn’t mention anything.”
My neck grows hot. I rip off my wrap and tuck it under my arm.
“How about a drink? Does anyone want a drink?” I ask, scanning around the lobby for a bar. There, across the room.
I don’t wait for replies. I just smile and say, “One for everyone? Okay! Be right back!” then dash in the opposite direction. Leaving Derek alone with my parents after the world’s most awkward introduction is cruel to say the least, but I make a silent promise to make it up to him later.
Once I’m in line at the bar, I glance back and see the three of them are carrying on a conversation just fine. Or rather, Derek is. My parents look utterly enraptured.
By the time I return, carefully balancing four glasses of champagne, everyone seems like old friends.
“I could have helped you,” Derek says, quickly taking two of the glasses out of my hands before I accidentally spill the whole lot down the front of my dress.
“It’s okay.”
“So Derek.” My mom stares up at him, eyes twinkling. “You said you’re staying at The Plaza? Avery was just there last month for a meeting with her agent.” That segue back to Avery is impressive even by my standards. “I wonder if you know him? Martin Branch?”
“Why would Derek know Avery’s agent?” is the question I ask in my head before downing half of my champagne.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“But you must know quite a few people in New York City, what with your family…”
Being so rich and all is what my father is hinting at.
Another big gulp of champagne slides down my throat. At this rate, I won’t be able to walk come curtain call.
“You grandfather is Charles Knightley?” my mom asks when the conversation lulls.
Derek nods.
My mom turns to me. “Avery, you—” She laughs, having caught her mistake. “Whitney, you know Charles a little, don’t you?”
“Some.”
Derek is glancing down at me, brows furrowed. I can’t imagine what he thinks of this exchange.
“Whitney and my grandfather are very close,” he amends.
My parents seem to find this very impressive.
“You never told us,” my mom says.
I grind my molars and look away. “I have. In the past.”
“Oh.”
An usher comes around, informing guests that it’s time to find their seats. Our tickets were gifted from Avery. Derek had to buy his. I wonder where he’s sitting then he pulls out four tickets from his pocket.
“I hope you don’t mind. I got us a box so we can all sit together.”
My parents have no issue with this change. After all, Avery’s tickets were good, but they were nothing compared to the ones from Derek. Now we’re sitting like royalty up in a private box. An attendant asks us if we’d like anything else to drink and I practically beg for another glass of champagne.
I sit at the very end of the front row of chairs, closest to the stage, forcing Derek to insulate me from my parents. It’s for the best. Now I can actually pay attention to the show.
It’s fantastic. My parents’ summary of it earlier didn’t do it justice. The writing is pithy, the pacing perfect, and I find myself barely aware of my surroundings while the production takes place. Avery captivates us all, cast in the glow of those stage lights as if she were born to be on Broadway. I’m so unbelievably proud of her, I could burst. When she bows at the end, I leap up and whistle with my fingers. Classy, I know.
