Chapter 4

            One week later . . .

            Beverly and Isaiah Green walked into the ballroom arm in arm fifteen minutes after six. There had to be over a hundred people in the room. Isaiah’s fade was on point and the black tux fitted his five-foot nine frame well for a rental. Beverly wore a red dress that hugged her thighs and legs all the way to her knees. The straps of the dress went behind her neck. Her cleavage was smashed together and showed through the wide cut. Her shoulder length hair was loosely curled and brushed out. At one time, her hair was short, above her ears. When Selena had gotten engaged to her now husband, she had asked Beverly to let her hair grow out a little for the wedding. Beverly was her matron of honor. Beverly had agreed thinking she would cut it after the wedding. But, she had discovered during her growing out phase that men flocked to her more with longer hair. She had also discovered that they were more likely to buy her a drink. So she had kept growing it out after the wedding. It had been strange at first. She hadn’t had long hair since she was fifteen. But, now she was used to it. When her luscious hair got on her nerves, she just put it up in a ponytail.

            They walked into the room.

            “This is nice. Everyone is dressed to the nines in here,” Isaiah commented as they continued to cruise the room.

            There was a formal band with a piano player at the front of the room.

            Ugh. No D.J. Figures.  I knew this would be a snore.

            They walked over to the buffet table. The covers were still on the dishes. 

            Damn it. They could at least open the buffet on time.

            “Hey, Beverly,” Joanna greeted from behind them.

            Beverly turned to see Trevor was with Joanna. “Hey, guys. You two look like the perfect couple.” And they were - disgustingly so to Beverly. She was happy Joanna had finally gotten the guy she wanted, but sometimes they were so sweet it would make Cupid sick.

            “Thank you,” Trevor said with a smile. He was wearing a black tux like all the other men there.

            Joanna wore a dark yellow dress that showed her baby bump in a fashionable and cute way. It had a high neckline and the hem came slightly above her knees.

            “Joanna, did you make that dress?” Beverly asked with raised eyebrows.

            “I did. How could you tell?”

            “It looks well made,” Beverly said with a little grin. Joanna was a hell of a seamstress. In the past, Beverly had given Joanna several blouses and pants to patch up. Once Joanna was finished with a garment, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong with it at all.

            “You two just getting here?” Trevor asked. His question made Beverly realize that she hadn’t introduced Isaiah to them.

            “Oh. Yes. Sorry, let me introduce you to my date. This is Isaiah Green. He’s the assistant editor at The N.Y.”

            They shook hands along with quick greetings.

            While they talked Isaiah up, Beverly glanced around the room.  Her eyes landed on the happy couple. Beverly had never met Catherine Van Dyke personally, but she knew what she looked like. Her picture was always in the paper in the society section or the legal section. Catherine was considered one of the best trial lawyers in the state. She wore a black cocktail dress. It was pretty plain from what Beverly could tell from across the room. Catherine wasn’t a raving beauty and she was slim and straight as a pole – no figure to speak of. However, she had fantastic legs.

            I don’t blame her for wearing black. She is attending her own funeral after all.

            Beverly had to admit Bruce could wear the hell out of a tux. His broad chest and shoulders were prominent in it. Bruce’s thick brown hair was slicked back and parted on the side. She turned away, feeling like she was staring too long. Her stomach growled for the third time in an hour.

            She turned to look at the buffet table. “Is this stuff here to look at or can we eat?” she asked loudly as she approached it.

            Trevor appeared beside her. “Help yourself. Bon appetit,” he said as he lifted the lid from one of the dishes to reveal some sort of seafood dip. Then he faked a nasty sneeze over the uncovered food and smirked.

            That didn’t bother Beverly – she was hungry as hell. She quickly grabbed a plate and a serving spoon.  “Gesundheit,” she said and started digging into the dip.

            Joanna, Trevor, and Isaiah chuckled.

****

            They were an hour in and the party was going well. Bruce and Catherine were slowly making the rounds, thanking people for coming. Catherine got pulled into a conversation with her two partners at the firm.

            Bruce was on his own – for a few moments. Three of his groomsmen, Ryan, Liam, and Garth approached him.

            “How are you holding up?” Ryan asked. Ryan was his friend and mixed martial arts and boxing trainer. They met at various gyms at least three times a month. Bruce had trained with him for the last seven years.

            “Fine,” Bruce answered simply.

            “He’s solid. Besides, it’s way too early for him to get cold feet,” Garth jested with a smirk.

            “Why would I get cold feet? Catherine is wonderful,” Bruce said with unwavering doubt.

            “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Liam said with a smile. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

            Bruce gave them half a smile. He had met Liam and Garth at Yale. They shared a room during their freshman year. Then Liam and Ryan joined a fraternity and moved into the frat house. Bruce didn’t join. But, the three had remained good friends. They were what the old elite called new money. Liam had just bought a townhouse in Washington D.C. He had won his first term as senator for the state of Colorado. Garth lived in New York and he owned a chain of restaurants on the east coast. His parents had started the family fortune in the stock market over thirty years ago. They had used the dividends to purchase more stock and then they had started a finance company.

            “Hey, Bruce, a New England mother is moving her daughter into a dorm room at Vassar.  The new roommate comes in who is from the south. She asked them, where y’all from? The mother responds, where from a place where we don’t end our sentences with a preposition,” Garth mimicked in an older proper sounding woman tone. “The girl from the south says, oh, sorry. I should have said, where y’all from . . . bitch.”

            Everyone chuckled but Bruce.

            “I told you he wouldn’t find it funny,” Liam said with a smirk and shook his head.

            “Let me try one,” Ryan said. “A hunter hears about a huge bear in the woods that no one can kill. Being a master hunter, he grabs his rifle and goes out into the woods. He sees the huge black bear. The hunter raises his gun, he gets him in his sights, and fires. Bam! When the gun smoke clears, the bear is gone. Then the hunter feels someone tapping him on the shoulder. He turns around and sees the bear.”

            Garth started chuckling as he lifted his champagne glass to his lips.

            “The bear says,” Ryan continued. “You have two choices. I claw you to death . . . or you can bend over.”

            Bruce’s eyebrows rose.

            “The hunter didn’t want to die so he bent over. The bear yanks his trousers down and fucks him in the ass,” Ryan said with a smile.

            “What!” Bruce said loudly. He almost covered his mouth because he didn’t mean to yell.

            “That’s not all,” Liam said with grin

            “It most certainly is,” Bruce said with a frown.

            “You didn’t even give the joke a chance,” Garth said.

            “A joke that involves bestiality doesn’t deserve a chance,” Bruce said haughtily. “Where did you hear these jokes? You guys have never been joke tellers.”

            “That hotter than smoke brunette in the red dress,” Garth answered bluntly. “She’s been telling all kinds of jokes for the past forty minutes to various people.”

            “Like who?” Bruce asked with concern.

            “Well, I saw her talking to Yvonne Michelson, Philippa Dandridge, and Hilda Hollingsworth earlier,” Garth said.

            “Oh god,” Bruce groaned with embarrassment. Hilda and Philippa were part of the country club set and the Ladybirds Club. Yvonne was married to the CEO of one of the best and most profitable investment firms in the city.

            “Don’t worry. They didn’t seem offended by it. Philippa laughed so hard she had to go sit down,” Garth said.

            Great. Just great, Bruce thought with resentment.

            Obnoxiously loud cackling got the men’s attention. They turned to see Gwyneth Grayson-Hanson holding her arms up like she was holding a rifle as she was talking with three grinning women. One of them was Judy Budd, the society reporter for The New York Times.

            Bruce grinded his teeth with annoyance as the band started playing a melody.  It was pretty up beat.

            I thought Victoria and Constance told the band we didn’t want anything faster than a fox trot?

Bruce shook the thought away for the moment and got back on topic. “Who is this . . . hot brunette telling these . . . unusual jokes?”

            “Damn, I forgot her name,” Garth said with regret. “I’m planning to seek her out again later for a dance. I’ll get her name again then – and hopefully her phone number.”

            “No need to seek when what you want has just grabbed the microphone,” Liam said.

            Then they started to hear a woman singing. “Like a fool I went and stayed too long. Now I’m wondering if your love stills strong. Ooo baby. Here I am signed, sealed, delivered I’m yours!”

            The crowd started moving.  Some people got on the dance floor and started dancing. The crowed started clapping their hands to the beat. A space cleared for Bruce to see who was singing.

            “Here I am, baby! Signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours!”

            Bruce’s brown eyes widened with shock and anger at Beverly Balsom in a red dress that looked like Joanna had to sew her into.

            I shouldn’t be surprised. How dare she? I don’t care if she can sing like a bird.

            Even the elders in chairs were clapping their hands and tapping their feet.

            Christopher and Selena approached them with big smiles on their faces. “I didn’t know she could sing,” Christopher said, impressed.

            “Yeah,” Selena said proudly.

            Bruce got a glimpse of Joanna and Trevor dancing to Beverly’s song.

            Has everyone lost their minds?

            The song – and Beverly finished. Then the worse thing happened that could possibly happen. Half the room yelled for an encore.

            “Hey, you don’t mind if my date takes a turn with the piano, do you?” she asked the piano player. “Come on, Green, the crowd wants more.  Let’s do that Ray Charles thing.” She turned around to look at the band. “You guys know Hit the Road Jack, right?”

            Hit the Road Jack?

            A tall black man walked to the front and then he squatted down on the piano bench.

            The band started playing a deep tune as the piano sound rang around them.

            “Hit the road jack and don’t you come back no more no more no more no more. Hit the road jack and don’t you come back no more,” Beverly sang.

            “Come on, Selena,” Christopher said. “I’m actually in the mood for a swing on the dance floor.”

            Christopher and Selena headed up front.

            Everyone started clapping to the beat – again.

            Is that my future father-in-law dancing with Gwyneth Grayson-Hanson?

“Oh woman, oh woman, don’t treat me so mean,” the man sang.

Bruce’s friends were bopping their heads.

He couldn’t go up front and stop it. The action alone would cause a bigger scene than what Beverly was already making. Bruce had no choice but to let it continue.

“Don’t care for you cause it’s understood you ain’t got no money. You just ain’t no good,” Beverly sang.

Ain’t? Shit, he thought with resentment.

They finally finished to applause.

Bruce didn’t care if the guests acted like they enjoyed it. This was not done in elite circles. The party would be in the paper Monday talking about what a disgrace it was – and the same people who enjoyed that spectacle would say the same by Tuesday. What did Beverly think this was? A bar in Brooklyn?

Catherine approached him. “Darling, I thought you had said Trevor only hired one singer for us to dance together after the announcement. Was that a warm up act?”

“No,” he answered flatly. “That was . . . not planned. I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she stated. “It’s not my taste, but the guests seemed to enjoy it – and Father.”

I bet he and most of the men in the room did.  Beverly was up there switching her hips like she was trying to start a fire.

“Anyway, I heard the most devilish joke from Diana St. Claire,” Catherine began in a nearly hushed tone. “A prostitute enters a bar-”

“Oh my god!” Bruce interrupted with wide eyes.

Not only had that damn Beverly taken over his engagement party, she had also corrupted his fiancé.