Easter dinner

The next day Mark left after breakfast for an interview, leaving Chloe with his new grandmother. “Tomorrow evening is the party,” Beatrice began while looking through his closet. “Now you’re making great strides already but one important aspect you are missing is posture.”

“I’m trying.” He whined, his arms covering his flat chest. He was in the middle of changing after his bath when she simply barged right in without asking. Luckily he had already tucked his penis away underneath his panties but he hadn’t yet put his falsies on or even a bra before she came in rambling about what he should be doing. Whenever he reached for a shirt she slapped his hand away. Because there was no point in putting on a shirt just to take it off.

“I know you are. That’s why I have decided to help you. Ah, here it is.” She unlaced a small black corset and held it out for Chloe.

Arms still covering his boyish chest, “What’s that?” He asked, genuinely confused. He wasn’t sure where all of the clothes had come from, he was certain they had only bought a few things while they were out. Now he had an entire closet full of frilly girl clothes?

“It’s a corset.” She said as if that explained anything. “Most women wear them to help their figure, and you could certainly use some help in that area, but no for your purposes you will wear it to help aid your posture training.”

“How long?”

Beatrice clenched her teeth, “Until I am certain you no longer need it.”

“And the belt too?!”

She was not used to being questioned so much, but then she had raised a son who had been born into high society. Chloe did not have such luxury. “Chloe,” she started and sat on the desk chair, “I understand these last few days have been a big transition for you, and I may be a touch more strict than I normally would be but you must understand the easter dinner is something my grandfather started. It is an important family tradition.”

“Okay.” Chloe nodded as if he had actually considered her words, he didn’t really care about her traditions. He didn’t have family traditions, he didn’t even have family.

"I understand that may not mean much to you now, but it should and I hope in time it will." Beatrice paused for a moment, letting her mind linger, "I tell you what, if you're a good girl and do everything I say until the party is over then we can take it easy on your training."

"That sounds…good." He smiled, he used to make deals for cash on the dollar for jewelry with real gangsters and now here he was making a deal to be a good girl.

"Grand. Now that that's done let's get you dressed."

"Uh, grandmother, I can dress myself."

"I am sure. But a corset can be tricky your first time, have you ever worn one before?"

"Um…once or twice." He lied. "My mom had one and I used to put it on when I…played dress up when I was a kid."

"Madam," Sheffield's voice suddenly rang out followed by a quick rap upon the door, "there is a phone call for you."

"Thank you, Sheffield. Whom is it?"

"A, Delilah Fulbrette."

"Oh, Delilah." Her voice cheered, "Tell her I shall be right there."

"Very well, mum."

"Alright, Chloe I will trust you to put this on yourself, but I will need to inspect it to ensure you are wearing it properly." Chloe frowned, "If you need help ask Sheffield or myself."

"I'll manage." He sighed and watched the old woman leave.

Picking up the corset he couldn't understand which way was up, why did it have so many straps and zippers and…strings? What kind of medieval **** was this meant to be used for? He began by placing the unlaced corset on, backwards. Tying it like he had his shoes he pulled it as tight as he could and wore the straps like suspenders. When he did that, however, he found the zipper was misaligned. “Ugh.” He groaned and attempted to remove himself from the puzzling shapewear.

“Young Miss?” Sheffield called from behind the door followed by a soft rapping.

“Uh, one minute.” Chloe scrambled to put his bra on and insert his falsies and throw on a shirt before he opened the door. “Sup, Sheff?”

“Hmm, yes.” He bristled at the nickname but let it pass. “I thought you could use some tea.” He held a small china glass cup and saucer in his hands, “It is supposed to be very calming.”

“Is this another test?”

“No, Miss.”

“...thanks.” He took the small cup in one hand and sipped at it. It actually was good. “Not bad.” He sighed and sat on his small girly bed. ‘I can do this.’ He reminded himself. ‘I can do this.’

“Did you require any further assistance?”

“I can manage. I’m not some helpless little girl.” He sipped his tea, casting glances at the small porcelain dolls that lined the shelves upon every wall.

“If I may, Miss,” He stepped further into the room, “There is nothing to be gained from asking for assistance from those who have come before. It does not mean one is helpless. It simply means you are smart enough to recognize where you need improvement, and strong enough to ask for help without fear or shame.” Chloe stared at the small swirling pool in his tea, “But if there is nothing else, I shall leave you alone.” He held out the saucer, waiting for the cup to be returned.

Sipping the last of it down, Chloe frowned as he placed the cup back on the plate. “I’ve never done girly stuff like this before.” He mumbled by way of explanation.

“I have been made aware.” He said calmly.

“...C-could you help me? Could you talk to her about this corset thing?”

“What about?”

“I can’t wear it. It’s too confusing and, like, really do I even need it? I’m already skinny.”

“If I may?” He raised his hand and turned it in a circle, indicating what he wanted the feminine man to do. Frowning, Chloe turned around and lifted the back of his shirt. “A corset is much simpler than you may think.” He undid the tangled mess of strings and straps. “They can do more than help your figure. Though they are great for that.” He spun the leather around on Chloe’s stomach. He spent a few moments aligning everything and relacing the strings through their respective holes. “Take a deep breath then let it out.” Chloe grumbled but did what he was told. As soon as he let his breath out Sheffield pulled the strings, tightening the corset to the point it became nearly impossible for Chloe to take in her next breath.

“C-can’t breath.”

“Take shallow breaths until you become accustomed, Miss.” Chloe held on to the posts of his bed as he struggled for breath for the first few minutes. He felt the limits of the corset with every inhale as his diaphragm attempted to expand in its cage before being **** back into its desired shape. For a moment he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen. How was he supposed to move in this if he could barely breathe? “How do you feel?”

“Like a…boa…constrictor’s having…me for lunch.” His voice was much more airy now that every word **** out more air than he meant.

“But you can breathe?” Sheffield asked.

“...kinda?”

“Excellent.”

“Easy…for…you…to say.” He gasped. For the first time he saw a quick smile cross Sheffield’s face. If he had blinked he might have missed it.

“You should finish getting dressed. I will let your grandmother know you have successfully put on your corset by yourself.”

“...thanks?” It felt odd to thank the man for lying that he dressed himself…even stranger, why would he lie for him?

Sheffield nodded, “Do not forget to wear your belt. Your grandmother wishes for you to walk one mile around the grounds with her today before you are to start your lessons.”

After Sheffield left Chloe found it impossible to bend as he normally had before as his lower and mid back were **** into unwavering alignment. The corset gave Chloe **** but to bend at his waist to pick up anything out below his knees, which unfortunately was where his skirts, stockings, and heels were. He slipped the sheer hosiery up his smooth legs enjoying every tingly moment as they slid the green knee highs to his knees. Seeing the smile on his face in the mirror Chloe immediately felt shame, he was a man and not like those ousted kids he grew up with on the streets that enjoyed this type of stuff.

As he tightened the belt around his lower thighs he thought how none of them had probably had to go to these extremes just to blend in as a girl. ‘Of course they might’ve liked being some rich old woman’s granddaughter.’

Far and away from the beauty of the manor house was downtown, a hub of activities and people working the daily grind to earn a few coins in the hopes that one day they could live in the lap of luxury that Chloe now resided, albeit temporarily. One such individual was her fake father, Mark. He climbed out of a cab, tipped the driver and slung the pink hello kitty backpack over his shoulder. The bag clashed greatly with his striped gray suit and got him more than a few stares as he walked into the Mayflower bank, but he didn’t care after the day he’d had.

Mark locked the bag in the safety deposit box and clenched his jaw. He knew he probably should have talked to Sam…or Chloe about what he intended to do but he didn’t have a lot of time and she was in the tub for an hour by the time he came into her room. The day before he discovered that one of the servants, possibly one of the maids that blended into the background, had unpacked his luggage and placed them in the drawers. At first he thought nothing of it, as he was accustomed to “the help”, as his mother called them, doing their jobs without being told. It wasn’t until the next morning he worried about Chloe’s bag. He may not have brought in luggage, which was already curious enough, but the last thing he needed was a nosey maid or, worse, Sheffield snooping through the made up man’s bag and finding wads of cash. He already looked at Mark like he didn’t trust him, he didn’t need to give him any ammo to bring to his mother.

While Mark had his interview, Chloe and his new pretend grandmother returned to the manor, the belt still tied around Chloe’s thighs. “You did much better today, Chloe.”

“Thanks

Mark walked out of the bank and the few blocks to his job interview. He put on his best smile, self-assured yet humble, and greeted a woman in a sharp suit. “Good afternoon, Mr.Pasini. I’m so glad you could meet with me today.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” They shook hands and smiled before walking to her office.

Sheffield gently gripped Chloe’s hand in his, “Now,” He said, slipping an arm around the small of her back “remember, like I showed you.” His normal tone was almost robotic in nature but this morning he had been particularly gentle with Chloe. Chloe awkwardly followed as Sheffield took a step back, accidentally stepping with the wrong foot and standing on Sheffield’s toes. “Quite alright, keep going.” They continued until their awkward steps became a gentle waltz. It took fewer lessons than Chloe thought it would when Beatrice first mentioned dancing lessons.

“Every fine young woman must know at least three dances. These will showcase her grace and beauty.” Beatrice said as she played music from an old gramophone.

“I get gr-andmother is old…er but she’s not gonna, like, play this for the party is she?” Chloe whispered.

“No,” he whispered back, “there will be a live band tomorrow night. As well as, the ballroom is equipped with the latest and best sound system money could buy. Nevertheless your grandmother enjoys the finer things in life.” He spun on his backheel bringing Chloe with him, “If you ever wish we have a collection of records. Compare our vinyl of Crazy train to what you might find online and tell me you don’t notice the difference.”

“Shef, you like Ozzy?”

“One was not born a buttler, young miss.” Chloe smiled, Sheffield acted all stuffy but he was a far more interesting person than he let on, “I think you’re ready for something more complicated now, miss.”

“I don’t know.” Chloe’s hands clenched Sheffield’s anxiously.

“Remember what I told you-”

“Go with the flow?”

“Precisely.” He smiled then nodded to Beatrice. “Madam, if you don’t mind?”

Chloe smiled and nodded, in that moment he had a flash of Jared and himself on the subway in New York. Jared had spent the last two months teaching his young protege how to pick someone’s pockets without being caught and that evening during the five o’clock rush was his test. It was pass/fail, like all of Jared’s tests. If he was caught he was on his own to talk his way out of it or get away. Just like in real life no one was coming in at the last minute to save the day. “Remember kid, the train, the people, the tracks, they flow together. Go with the flow.” And with those final words of encouragement Jared shoved a nine year old into the ocean of people on the subway.

As young Sam had flowed with the passengers on the train, so too, did Chloe now flow with Sheffield as they danced to swing music. Chloe couldn’t help but laugh as Sheffield spun him around, only to pull him back into his arms. Swaying in rhythm as he did, holding high on to that cold pole with his right hand and slipping his left into that man’s coat pocket Chloe smiled at the happy memory of an old friend as he held his right hand high in the air, gripped Sheffield’s fingers as both leaned back and kicked back their feet. Sheffield pulled the young girl back towards him, spinning her on her heel, they kicked their feet akimbo with wide smiles. Chloe was sure he looked like an idiot but he was certainly enjoying himself for the first time since he arrived. The first time in years really.

Hours later Mark would return to his mother’s home, passing Chloe, Beatrice, and Sheffield without giving them a glance. The interview went well until she asked about why it was that he was let go from his previous bank. “Mark?” Beatrice called out to her soon, clearly in a foul mood.

“Hey pops!” Chloe cheered.

Mark returned to the sitting room with a glower on his face. ‘What does he have to be so happy about? Just ruin someone’s life and face no consequences?’ “What?”

“Come dance with me.” Chloe laughed.

“Dance? Since when do you dance?”

“Our Chloe is quite the natural dancer. I’m surprised you never noticed.”

“I guess he never told me.” Sheffield glared at Mark, “Didn’t even know h-e liked that fruity shit.” Mark belched, barely remembering to cover his mouth. “I have a few phone calls to make. Call me when dinner’s ready.” Mark walked away.

“We have already had dinner.” Beatrice said harshly.

“I guess his interview didn’t go good.”

“Well, Chloe. Remember we speak properly.” Beatrice corrected.

He gritted his teeth, "... I…suppose father's interview must have not gone well."

“That is still no excuse for his behavior. I will have a talk with him. In the meantime, Sheffield, from the top.”

Beatrice opened Mark’s room without knocking as she had always done, and like he had always done he rolled his eyes. “Come in, mother. What can I do you for?”

“First off; do not talk like that, you were not raised like some hillbilly from Kentucky.”

“And the second?”

“Why are you being so cruel to Chloe?”

“Excuse me? You can not take the stress of losing your job out on your daughter.”

“I can’t huh?”

“Of course not. What could she possibly have to do with all of that?”

“You’d be surpised.” Mark slurred.

“That is another thing. What do you think you are doing coming home high and tight like this in front of your daughter?”

“I’m sure she’s seen worse where she grew up.”

“She better not have seen it from you!”

“Mother, what does it matter?”

“It matters a great deal to that girl downstairs. And it matters a great deal to the boy who used to live in this room.”

“Huh?”

“When you left you made certain declarations I am disappointed to see you have not stayed faithful to.”

“Such as?”

“You claimed you would make a much better parent than your father and I. You would never go a single day without letting your child know you loved them. I have yet to see you so much as hug young Chloe.”

“Have you?”

“Son-”

“It’s not like any of this was my idea, Mother. No one asked me if I wanted part in any of this. Just here, do it or else. And now, here we are.”

“It doesn’t matter how it came about, Chloe is your daughter. You no longer get to behave as a child.”

“So I don’t get to dance with your weird butler?”

“So churlish.” Beatrice sighed, “If you wish to act like a child then I’ll treat you like one.”

“What?”

“I hope whatever gin soaked bar you crawled out of had a bathroom. You are not to come out of your room for the rest of the night. I don’t wish to see you again until breakfast and I will expect an apology, as will Chloe.”

“Wai-are you grounding me?”

Beatrice sighed and walked to the door, “Yes. You will do well to remember what happens if you test me. I will let Chloe know you are not feeling well. No reason she should see her father in this condition.”

“If you love her so much why don’t you take her.” Mark growled, hiding his face in the pillow as the room was sealed once again in darkness. The lack of any visual points to fix on only made the spinning of the room worse. “Oh man…I gotta pee.” He groaned.

While Beatrice dealt with her unruly son Sheffield distracted Chloe by teaching more slow dances.

“While swing and the jitterbug are fun, if you are asked to dance tomorrow night it will no doubt be a slow song, so it is better to practice these for general knowledge purposes. If you wish, I can teach you more styles after this weekend.”

“How much do you know, exactly?”

“I have mastered five styles of dancing so far, I could conceivably fake my way through three more.”

“No. I mean, you cook the food right?”

“Usually, yes.”

“And I’m guessing you know about clothes?”

“A bit.”

“And now dancing?”

“You are correct, Miss.”

“Where’d you pick up all of this stuff? Some fancy British boarding school?”

Sheffield chuckled quietly to himself, and debated whether or not to tell her the truth. Extending his trust to her might allow her to extend that same trust to him but if Beatrice found out there was an even chance she would fire him, his background wasn’t exactly suited for her circles. “If I told you I’m afraid I would have to kill you. And I have come to the conclusion I enjoy your company.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.” He waved off the question, pulling her closer to him. “Was but a bad joke, Miss.”

“You remind me of a friend I grew up with.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He was kind of a hard…head.”

“Better.” Sheffield smiled at the young woman’s restraint.

“But he taught me things too.”

“Such as?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Chloe smirked.

“Fair enough.” The music slowly ended as the two came together, “If there is ever anything you wish to discuss with me, I will be here.”

Before Chloe could ask exactly what he meant he heard Beatrice applauding the dancers. Pulling apart Sheffield bowed to Beatrice before turning to Chloe and bowing to him. Chloe mirrored him with a bubbly smile. He was a weird guy but he didn’t seem as stuffy as he had originally. Of course, Beatrice corrected Chloe “A young lady bows like this,” She explained dropping into a simple curtsey and expected Chloe to replicate.

After several minutes of Chloe practicing the proper curtsey, “Chloe,” Beatrice said, with her thin expressionless face but her eyes were softer, ****, than before, “I am afraid your father has taken ill and will likely be sequestered to his room for the remainder of the evening.” She was lying, that much was obvious to Chloe, what wasn’t obvious was why? So he came home drunk? Were rich people really this easily embarrassed? It was a common occurrence to see men and women, and even teenagers, walking around drunk wherever he had crashed when he was on his own. With Jared he never did leave him alone with anyone who was drunk, but that’s because a drunk idiot and a small kid made for bad situations.

“That su-stinks.” he quickly covered himself and pouted. Trying to emulate how he’d imagine a kid who actually wanted parents around might’ve acted to such news.

“Yes, it is a shame. But that just means it shall be the three of us for the theater tonight.”

“Huh?”

Beatrice shook her head, “I thought since you were doing so well with your training we could all go to a theater and watch a movie.”

“Yeah?” Chloe smiled, it had been a while since he went to a movie, and that was when he had snuck into an R rated movie with a girl he knew. “I wouldn’t have to wear the belt would I?”

“Of course not.” Beatrice shook her head at the silly girl.

“Then yeah. That could be fun.” He didn’t really think it would be fun, but if he wanted to get out of skirts he needed to get a lay of the land and maybe see if he could find a fence. Though, he doubted, they were going to any area of town that he’d need to go.

“Splendid. Sheffield, if you would get the car ready. Chloe and I will get ready.”

“Aren’t I already ready?”

“Oh no. This is the perfect opportunity to teach you some more about morning and evening looks.” Beatrice practically cheered as she **** Chloe up to her room.

The next evening, Chloe stood in the ballroom feeling excited as he looked out at the gaggle of people conversing in overlapping accents of haughtiness. He was unable to research the guest list but he imagined with their combined wealths they could fix the national debt and still be sickly wealthy. He only needed enough to get out of dresses. Chloe shifted uncomfortably in the dress that had been set out for him that afternoon. The burgundy dress may have practically dragged the floor but he still felt exposed, like everyone was staring at him. Of course, that was the point, Beatrice told him when he complained. The chiffon and lace top stopped just above his breasts; left his shoulders bare, while the sleeves extended beyond his wrist, coming to a point where it wrapped around his ring finger. He had no idea the old woman chose a dress that showed off his shoulders if she also insisted he wear a black wrap around his shoulders. “It is impolite for a young lady to expose herself.” Was all she would say, but he still had to wear the dress? And worse yet was the corset cinching his waist even tighter than the previous day.

He had tried to ask his grandmother for a smart phone so he could do his research and maybe put out some feelers the night before after the movies but he evidently needed to work on his puppy dog eyes because she told him: “If you are a good girl tomorrow night I can have Sheffield look into it.”

‘Fine.’ He thought as he sized up the crowd. Chloe was never the strong arm robbery type, it had its uses and he would do it if he were ****, he’d much more preferred to trick the rich and stupid out of their money. Jared always told him that the confidence game came with too many risks and took too much time. “That’s how you get a wanted poster kid.” But for Chloe it was something like picking a civilian’s pocket. It took finesse to stand right in front of someone and rob them blind.

As he was paraded around the ballroom with his fake grandmother several men and women dressed in finery approached Beatrice with Chloe and Mark on either side to tell her what a wonderful fundraiser it was. A few spoke to Mark and asked him how he had been since they last saw him. A few even discussed Chloe with Beatrice without actually addressing Chloe himself. "Yes, this is my lovely granddaughter." She would exclaim and touch his shoulder in the same way she'd touch her diamond necklace whenever it was mentioned. As instructed Chloe gripped the sides of his dress and curtsied. It took everything in him not to roll his eyes. "She will be living with me for the foreseeable future." She would tell those that asked, "Oh yes, she is beautiful." She would remind her, and anyone, "She gets it from her grandmother." She'd laugh in the same haughty way all the other rich old farts did.

Mark grumbled a response for the most part, probably still embarrassed that he had to apologize to Chloe that morning. It took everything in Chloe to not laugh at him. “Life doesn’t apologize.” Jared had told him one cold winter night in Chicago when he asked if he ever felt guilty for stealing, “So why should we?” Of course Chloe took the opportunity to screw with Mark. Pretending to **** back a sob, “I just…I just wanted to spend time with my Dad. You were always so busy with work, and I, like, tried to understand but…now you’re not and you still…you still want nothing to do with me.” He felt particularly proud of himself for being able to push a single tear out and let it run down his cheek. Beatrice found the fact her son ignored his daughter “utterly outrageous.” Of course that was too much for Chloe and he had to run out of the room to keep from laughing. Thankfully he wasn’t **** to wear a belt around his thighs making this actually possible.

“When are we supposed to eat?” Chloe asked after the fifth old woman told Chloe how beautiful she was.

“Soon. We have so many introductions to do yet.”

“We do?”

“Of course. It is not every day I have a granddaughter to show off.” The way she smiled he thought for a moment was genuine but it still made him feel like an accessory.

“I guess.” Hey watched waiters with trays of horderves pass by just out of reach. He looked to Mark for help; he just gave him a sullen shrug. Apparently his little joke that morning did not go over well. Beatrice never yelled from what he could see, but her voice would take on a certain edge whenever she was truly angry. Though he couldn’t make out anything being said, he could hear the edge in her voice after he ran out of the room. ‘Fine.’ He thought, “Can I go to the bathroom first?”

“It’s may I.”

“What? Oh, right. May I go to the bathroom?”

“Very well. Don’t dawdle. There is someone I would like you to meet before the night ends.”

“Of course.” He curtseyed with a sarcastic smile before rushing off as fast as his three inch wedge heels would allow him.

Chloe chased a thin black woman carrying a tray of something called quiche but lost her when he stopped to let an old man pass. “Son of a-” He swore under his breath and followed the next silver tray he saw being carried through the crowd. He was stopped by another old woman who just had to introduce him to her twelve year old grandson. “Yeah, hey kid.” Was all he could muster before quickly rushing off after another tray. “Oh no you don’t!” Chloe cheered as he snapped up the last morsel of food on the tray before some man with a thin mustache in a tux carrying a cane could grab the small pastry. Chloe stuck his tongue out at the man with a triumphant laugh before he bit into the tiny snack. “Ach!” He spit the food into his hand. “Shrimp.” He grumbled. “Just my luck.” He looked at the mustached man who stared in utter shock, “Take care of this for me Mr.Peanut.” He **** the shrimp puff into the man’s hand and walked away in search of more food.

After several minutes he gave up the search and sat at an empty table. “Two grand a plate dinner and I can’t even find a cracker.”

“Hey.” A young waiter approached the glum girl pouting all alone.

Without looking at the young boy Chloe said, “Unless you’re made of some sort of chocolate or non-shrimp pastry, I’m not interested.”

“I’m not, unfortunately. But I was told to give this to you.” He sat a small plate of chocolate cake in front of Chloe.

Happily Chloe looked up at the boy for the first time, “Who?” he asked, taking the offered fork.

“Your father.” For a second he looked confused, then realized the boy meant Mark.

“Thank you.” He smiled, taking the first bite. “Hmm. So good!”

“I’m glad you like it.” He gave a small bow and turned to leave when Chloe grabbed his arm.

“Oh no you don’t. You stay right here in case I need more.”

The boy smiled. “I’m Spencer.”

He paused devouring the sweet long enough to introduce himself, “Chloe.”

“You’re not like most of the girls here.”

“You’re not like other girls here either.” He took a bite of the treat.

Spencer laughed and ran his hand through his messy brown hair. “Yeah, I deserve that. But I meant, you don’t act like the rich stuffy debutantes do. It’s refreshing.”

“Well, I’m not really one of them.”

“No?”

Chloe looked around before leaning close to Spencer, “For real? I’m a spy.”

“Oh? Like 007?”

“Better, 008.” They both smiled, Chloe for the first time that day smiled genuinely.

“So who are you spying on?”

Chloe looked around again and pointed his empty fork to a large gray haired woman in a pink dress with a pearl necklace. “See that one there? She is Mildred Von luftballoon.”

“Heiress to the Luftballoon factory?”

“Exactly. Recently we have received word that she is going to sell nuclear secrets to Australia.”

“They have always been jealous of us.”

“Precisely, they want to bomb California so they have the best beach in the world.”

“Well. We better keep an eye on her then.”

“We?” Chloe felt himself smile.

“Oh yeah, I’m in this now. Besides, I’ve got a lot of friends in California. I’d hate for them to get radiated.” Chloe smiled and offered a piece of cake to Spencer.

One particularly well dressed and balding man, named Rowan, sat beside Mark and droned on about some company he worked for that just bought some big medical device that was set to make him another billion. “So Mark, what ever have you been doing with yourself all these years?”

“Just. Working at a bank.”

“Oh, you went into banking? What do you think the market will yield this quarter?”

“Not banking. Working in a bank.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not anymore though.”

“That’s a shame. Have you found a new p-”

“Daddy?” Chloe whined as he walked up.

Mark turned to his fake daughter, cocking an eyebrow as he looked at his pouting expression, “Yes, Chloe?”

“Come dance with me?” He held out his hand with his delicately painted nails.

Mark smiled, recognizing the out Chloe was giving him, “Sorry Row,” He said over his shoulder as he stood and adjusted his suit, “but when a beautiful girl asks you to dance, you simply must.”

“I understand.” Rowan smiled politely.

Chloe smiled as she led Mark through the crowd. “Thanks,” He said as they slipped through the tables, “I owe you one.”

Chloe stopped and stood uncomfortably close to him, “First off, never tell someone like me you owe us anything.”

“Okay?”

“Second, we need to talk.”

Chloe held out his hand, waiting for Mark to take it, “We’re really dancing? O…okay?” Mark took the feminine hand and gently placed his other hand on the small of Chloe’s back, leading her onto the dance floor. “What about?”

Chloe smiled as she hung on to her daddy, or that’s what everyone else saw, what Mark saw was a set of shark teeth and cold eyes, “What did you do with my bag?”

“What bag?"

“Literally the only bag I came here with.” Chloe growled.

“Oh that. Yeah I put it in a safety deposit box in case one of the maids went snooping. It'd be a little hard to explain why you had so much cash on hand."

He smiled even though he wanted to kick him in the crotch, he was trying to help and letting him think all he had was money in the bag was a better alternative for now. “That’s a good point, I suppose.” He leaned in closer to Mark, pretending to hug his father, “Do you think we could go get it Monday?”

“Why?”

“The world runs on money, pops. Even mine. I can’t get a meeting without some money first.”

“That’s true.”

“Just think about it this way, the sooner I get a new ID the sooner I’m out of your life.”

“Aw, and when we were getting so close. Ow!”

Chloe stepped off of Mark’s foot as the music came to an end, “Oops.” He giggled girlishly. “I suppose accidents happen when you’re not paying attention. Luckily I didn’t bring my knee up, huh?” He walked away with a smirk as he palmed Mark's gold watch. Jared never had a problem with **** because he was so much bigger than Sam most people took his threats seriously. Few people took Sam seriously, but every man feared a swift knee to the crotch. No matter how tall or short the attacker stood.

After having successfully had his manhood threatened by another man in a dress, Mark wandered off during his mother’s speech about how wonderful she was and how important it was to give back. While Chloe was off pretending to be the perfect granddaughter, no doubt, Mark sat at the bar drinking as much whiskey as the bartender would give him. He wasn’t typically the type to drink his problems away, but he was beginning to see why some people tried. “I’d ask if you could buy a girl a drink but I’d be surprised if there is any left.”

Mark turned to face the voice and saw a stunningly beautiful woman in a purple sheath dress with a sweetheart neckline that portrayed her chest without being obvious. “Now see, I’m embarrassed. I almost wore that exact same dress.” He smirked, taking a sip from his glass.

“Witty as ever.” The woman said, sitting on the stool beside him, “White wine, please.”

“Do I know you?”

“Mark Pasini, I would have thought your mother taught you better than that.”

“Forgive me, I’m out of practice.” ‘And out of fucks.’ he thought as he sipped his whiskey. Though now he was curious. “Have we met somewhere? Perhaps at a benefit for the rich and insufferable?” He said in the faux haughty tone he had been hearing all night.

“Something like that. We went to school together.”

“...I went to an all boys school?” He smiled in confusion.

“After the fourth grade, yes. But before then you went to Oak hills grammar school for the gifted and fabulously wealthy.” Mark laughed, Oak Hills grammar school was like a mini magnet school for future CEOs and child prodigies. Neither of which Mark was; but his parents, like most, did have enough money to buy their way in any way. “Zoe Belmonte.”

Zoe Belmonte was the most annoying brat Mark had ever met. She was exceedingly spoiled and selfish. The fact she pushed him off of the jungle gym and knocked out his front tooth had nothing to do with his dislike of her. “Of the Newport, Belmontes?”

“No, we lived three doors down from them though.” She laughed at the old joke.

“My god, it’s been ages. Are you here visiting family?”

“Somewhat. My mother passed away a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Zoe nodded, “But my dad is still kicking. He still acts like he’s twenty five. Or at least, he dates them anyway.”

“Uh…yay?”

She sipped her wine with a shrug, “But, I actually put this event together for your mother.”

“You’re an event planner?”

“I head up the charity tonight’s proceeds are going to.”

“You run a charity?”

“Yes. Well, on the board. And you have caught something from a parrot it would seem.”

“Sorry, it’s just…I wouldn’t have…well you were so-”

“Spoiled?”

“I mean…ah, hell I’m drunk enough, sure. Spoiled.”

She smiled, “I was. I was the definition of spoiled rotten. But after highschool I did the big cliche.”

“Join a sorority and gain fifteen pounds?”

“No, the other big cliche’. I did the whole year abroad thing. But…well you remember how stubborn I was.”

“I do.”

“Yes, well my parents were getting on my nerves and I wanted to prove to them I could make it on my own without their money.”

“And you did?”

“Oh god no. I lasted a week before I called my mother for help.” She giggled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So what have you been up to?”

“You haven’t heard already?”

“I have. But I also know they lie and blow things out of proportion.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure whatever body you left in that ditch in Cali deserved it. You always were a nice, quiet guy.” Mark laughed and sat his drink down. Before he could speak both of them heard a loud crash.