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"Hmm?" he asks, supposedly puzzled. "What's wrong?"
He's got to kidding.
"You've introduced me as Luna Hamilton twice now! That is not my name. I didn't agree to that!" A white hot anger burns my nervousness in its wake. How long has he been planning this?
"Oh, it was just a slip of my tongue. Sorry, we were just talking about it, and then I was thinking of introducing you as Ernest's daughter."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
He gives me a warning look, pressing his finger to his lips. "Keep your voice down. Can we talk about this later?"
"Hamilton," a familiar slimy voice interrupts before I can respond.
Alex turns to the voice. "Drake! Luna, this is Drake Farmington."
I look up to meet a face I'd rather not have seen again and give him a tight smile.
"Luna, of course. Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Luna and I have actually met, haven't we?" He reaches his hand out to touch my elbow, and luckily he pulls his hands away before I have to move it for him. "Your presence here tonight is already causing quite the hub bub. But you didn't tell me you were Ernest Hamilton's daughter. "
With my argument with Alex still fresh, I am running low on patience on men who think that can treat me however they wish. "As I recall, you didn't really give me much chance to say anything."
"Luna! Don't be rude," Alex gasps. "I'm sure Luna didn't mean that. It's been a rough few weeks for us. As you can imagine."
But Drake isn't fazed. "No, no, she's right. Anyway, I like them feisty. Come find me for a dance when you got sick of this one, okay, Miss Hamilton? After him and Baxter, you might find me refreshing." He walks away with a wink and I almost gag, trying to get his eyes off me.
"You can't talk like that to someone like Drake Farmington!" Alex scolds me, grabbing me are as soon as he's out of earshot
"Actually, you know what?" I yank my arm out of his hold. "I can. I can talk to anyone exactly how I like. And if you had heard what he'd said to me last time we met, you'd have felt the same way."
He huffs, like he's the one with the right to be pissed off right now. "Fine. We'll talk about it later."
"I'm going to get a drink. And look for the Baxters. I need to thank them for helping me get ready. And frankly, I need a little space from you right now."
"Luna. Come on. I'm sorry, okay?"
A little too late.
"Later, Alex."
I fling myself into the crowd, hoping to get lost amongst the bodies. I might've been introduced to a few people as Luna Hamilton, but to most, I'm still a relative stranger. And I try to make it to the other side of the venue before my reputation and name can follow me.
My phone shows no messages from Kingsley, but he's late. He said their cars were leaving from his house at six-thirty, but there had been a long line at the entrance so they might be caught in the traffic. I'm anxious for my security blanket person.
Taking advantage of the time to calm down, I grab a glass of champagne and relax into my surroundings.
The museum really has been decorated so spectacularly. Elegant, luxurious beyond measure, but without losing the structural charm of the venue. I take in some details I think might be relevant to Baxter's jubilee, the anxiety slowly turning into excitement at the thought that I might be able to contribute something to the committee. Especially now that I've met the girls, I really want to be a part of it.
Be a part of the Baxter family.
Kingsley's words about not worrying about impressing the people here come back to me, and are like a warm shawl, comforting me. Especially contrasted with Alex's same reaction. The Baxters command the space they're in. Alex acts like he's still pandering to them to gain entry. I don't know if it's just because of the people they are, or if the Baxter family's status just allows them to feel differently. Either way, I know which one I'd rather be a part of.
I drop my empty champagne glass onto a passing tray and reach for another one hoping to calm the last of my nerves.
Where is he?
I miss his hands on me. I miss his scent in the air around me. I miss him making me feel safe. I miss just knowing he's there. When he's with me, I feel safe. Seen. Comfortable in my own skin, my own mind.
And frankly, part of my vanity just wishes he could see me in this magical dress that he'd picked out just for me.
