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“This is all too much, I can’t keep this dress or the shoes. They must have cost a fortune.”
“Please, it was my pleasure. I was more than happy to do it,” he insists. “Besides, they were made for you.” I flush scarlet. His sexy smile makes me feel like I’m on fire. I am too hot and bothered to argue about this now, but after the party, we will talk about this.
Waiters in white dinner coats move effortlessly through the throng of elegant guests. They are in stealth mode, refilling my champagne as they pass. We stand in the center of the room closest to the bar.
“Come, let’s find out what table we’re at,” Chase says, escorting me into the dining room.
Once in the main dining room we find a table covered with fancy cards written in calligraphy. Chase locates his card, which reads Mr. Chase Remington III and guest, Table One.
“We’re sitting at the head table with my father and brother,” he says, not thrilled with this development. “Like I said, these functions are a total bore, but having you here will ease the pain.” Snaking his arm around my waist, he leads me through the crowd toward our table.
“Ready to meet my family?” he asks.
Oh fuck, I didn’t think about that.
The table is set for eight. Chase and I, his father and stepmother, his brother with his date, and another couple we’ve yet to see. Seated at the table is an older well-dressed gentleman with a very young brunette, also dressed to kill. The gentleman stands as we approach.
“Olivia, this is my father Chase Remington the second and my stepmother Tiffani.”
Wow, she looks young.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” his dad says with a smile. I can see where Junior gets his good looks from. Chase Senior is tall and handsome. He looks young for his age. He could pass for his late forties. His stepmother finishes her glass of wine essentially ignoring us. She is draped with expensive jewelry and is wearing way too much make-up.
“Chase darling, I need a refill,” she demands waving her empty glass around.
“Yes, dear,” Chase Senior murmurs. He waves down a waiter and asks for another glass. Chase rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He glances over at me with a look of contempt.
“Please, take a seat.” His dad motions toward the table. Ever the gentleman, Chase pulls out my chair. Once I’m seated, he sits down to my right. Waiters are walking around with bottles of champagne topping off glasses as they go. I look around the room admiring all the fancy dresses and expensive suits. The amount of money in this room could easily pay off the national debt.
Chase’s father is chatting with several men who wandered over from another table about property in Italy. Tiffani is conversing with some socialites, perhaps the wives of the men Senior is chatting with. Chase clasps my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. His smile is dazzling. He motions to the plethora of plates in front of me. Underneath my eloquently folded napkin and on top of the appetizer plate is a hand written menu.
Appetizer
Stuffed Portabella Mushroom Filled with Artichokes & Asiago Cheese
over a Fire Roasted Tomato Coulis
*
Salad
Baby Greens with Bartlett Pears, Red Onions and Gorgonzola Cheese tossed in a Lemon White Balsamic Vinaigrette
*
Entrée
Pan-Seared Chicken Breast Filled with Herbs and Mushroom Ragout Served with a Root Vegetable Demi with Bundles of Steamed Asparagus Tied with Carrot Ribbons
or
Herb Crusted Chilean Sea Bass served with a Champagne Beurre Blanc over Long Grain Rice with Vegetable Confetti
or
Porcini Crusted Petit Filet Mignon with a Wild Mushroom Demi Glaze with Mashed Yukon Gold Potatoes with Truffle Oil and Julienne of Zucchini, Carrots & Summer Squash
*
