AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER 1:
Ivy
Standing at the window of the Brooklyn townhome I share with my Uncle Owen and his wife, Cynthia, I watch the snowflakes fall against the backdrop of the lights from the streetlamps below. I’m not much in the mood for my uncle’s company Christmas party tonight. The only reason we’re going is that the VP of Accounting just left, and Owen hopes he’ll get the job. Likely, it will be a boring event, lots of posturing, but I’ll go and show the family flag. After all, that’s what families do.
Digging into my closet, I pull out a chic emerald green dress that I recently purchased and hold it up in front of me in the mirror. It’ll be perfect for the party. I like the way the material matches my eyes. Uncle Owen probably won’t approve of itsslightlyplunging neckline, but that’s nothing new. He would probably think a turtleneck was too sexy.
I try to remind myself not to be too harsh on him. He and Cynthia have been good to me. Not many couples would have taken in a seven-year-old, but they did when my mother died in a car accident. I will never forget that day at school when Owen and Cynthia arrived in the middle of the day to take me out of class. Owen had been quiet, still in shock himself from the news. My mother was his only living relative. With her passing, it was almost as though a switch had seemed to flip inside of him. Sometimes I wonder if he ever really laughs, lightens up. I know he doesn’t around me, at least.
A knock sounds at the door, and Cynthia pokes her head in. Her blond hair is up in rollers, and she has some facial mask smeared across her face. “What did you decide to wear, Ivy?”
I hold out the dress to her. “This one.”
Cynthia walks up, touching the soft folds of the dress. “It’s beautiful. Your fair skin and dark hair will show off perfectly against it, not to mention your eyes.” She laughs a little. “You might want to wear a wrap when you come downstairs. You know your uncle. He might just make you turn around and change. Better to wait until we’re there. It’ll be too late then.”
I hug my aunt’s neck. She is the glue of this tiny family. I don’t know how she puts up with us all. She’s always trying to keep a balance between my uncle and me. He still thinks I’m a little girl, and he knows better. Cynthia knows that there are some things I need to experience and learn for myself. She does her best to make sure I have those opportunities.
Cynthia glances at her watch. “You had better hurry. Owen wants to leave in an hour, and you know how he is about being punctual.”
I roll my eyes affectedly. “He would show up early for his own execution.”
She giggles. “True. I suppose I should heed my own advice and get moving. I’m not exactly pulled together yet, either.”
Once she leaves, I set about getting ready. My makeup, though subtle, focuses on my eyes with just the barest hint of green in the shadow for interest. My lashes have always been long, so a touch of mascara is all I need to make my eyes stand out. Looking over at a picture of my mother, I stare into eyes much like mine and unruly raven curls that dance about her face. Sometimes I wonder what she was like. I really don’t remember much, just that she had seemed like such a free spirit…definitely the opposite of my uncle.
Sliding on the soft material of the dress, I turn back and forth in front of the mirror, liking what I see. The hem of the skirt is an inch above the knee, maybe two. Not enough to appear wanton, but enough to raise interest. The fabric clings to my form without being too tight, and the vee neckline dips down just enough to show the shadow of cleavage and complete the look of subtle sexiness. I pull one side of my long black hair back with a decorative comb to expose my neck that I leave bare…innocent. Finally, I don a pair of sparkly heels in a mixture of red and green to add a touch of whimsy. Just because I’m in graduate school for my business degree, it doesn’t mean I have to be boring.
Cynthia walks in, clasping her hands in front of her. “You look beautiful!”
I turn to her with a smile. “Thanks! You look lovely, too.” She does. In her mid-forties, Cynthia doesn’t look a day over thirty-two. Her ash-blond hair is swept up at the back for an elegant, yet deceptively natural look. Her trim body is accentuated by a fitted black dress. My uncle definitely married up!
I grab my wrap and clutch purse. As an afterthought, I take my minicamera and slide it into the small bag.
Cynthia looks at me curiously. “Why on earth are you bringing that?”
I shrug my shoulders. “In case I get bored.”
She just shakes her head as she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You and your camera.”
“Come on! We’re going to be late!” my uncle calls from downstairs. I pull my wrap a little more securely around me, winking at Cynthia. “Will this do?”
As we make the drive to the party that is being held in Manhattan, I take in the changing scenery. The suburbs of Brooklyn are decked out with traditional Christmas fare, almost like that from a storybook. As the suburbs give way to the city, the vibe changes from cozy to sleek and polished, flashy. When we arrive at the venue, I take in the towering building that is the home office for Advent Bank. Its design is reminiscent of the old-world style, though the building itself is barely even five years old. The exterior is decorated in a classic style that is the epitome of elegance. Garlands filled with sparkling white lights adorn the entryway, cranberry and gold ribbon woven throughout their boughs. A tall tree shines brightly from within the lobby, welcoming those who enter.
Feeling in my purse, I find my camera and take it out, wanting to capture the magic.
“You brought your camera to the party?” my uncle questions from beside me. I can tell he disapproves. His brow is furrowed beneath his slightly receding dark hairline, and he looks as though he is looking forward to the evening even less than I am.
He leads my aunt and me to the elevator, pressing the button for the floor where the conference center is located. I ease my wrap from my shoulders a bit. Immediately, Owen’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit revealing?”
Cynthia nudges her husband. “Owen, she looks beautiful and you know it. She can’t live in pigtails and rompers forever.”
“She can try,” he mutters grumpily.
Cynthia gives me an encouraging look as the doors of the elevator open. “Have fun! Remember…it’s a party!”
The large ballroom is filled with trees decorated in silver and crystal, the branches touched with pristine white snow. Snow drifts caress the bottoms of the trees, outlining the dance floor that is actually a clear flooring sprayed with an icy finish to mimic a frozen-over pond.
As I hand my wrap to the coat check, my uncle spots someone he knows and grabs Cynthia’s hand. “That’s Thomas Melbourne, our VP of Marketing. We need to at least say hello,” Owen says as he urges her forward.
With that, I am alone, not that I really mind. I would rather be on my own than schmoozing the bigwigs. I walk over to the luxuriously appointed buffet that is off to one side of the room. A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne and asks me if I would like one. I take one of the fluted glasses, hoping the bubbly contents will soon calm my nerves.
As the orchestra plays a Christmas ballad, I meander through the trees. They are decorated with painstaking care, meticulous in the placement of each ornament, strand of ribbon. As I stare at the Winter Wonderland, I can’t help but feel compelled to capture it. Again, I feel for my camera…my friend in a room full of strangers.
