Saving Jay Gatsby

Night at the Mansion

"Well now that introductions are out of the way," Jordan said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "How about we go test out the dance floor?"

I shook my head, "no thank you. I'm not much of a dancer." What I said was a lie, but Jordan didn't seem to notice. It wasn't a complete lie though, I don't dance in the style they're used to. Unless it's ballet or ballrom dancing, I tend to steer clear of the dance floor.

My statement caused Jordan to pause for a moment, as if she didn't know what she should say or do. I guess she wasn't accustomed to anyone telling her no. "If you're worried about people looking at that stain on your dress, you shouldn't be. Most people are in their own little world as they dance."

Stain? I looked down to my dress and sure enough, there was a large red stain. At first, I was confused as to how I got the stain, but soon realized it was from the drunk man who bumped into me earlier. That sticky substance must have been from his cup of red punch. "Oh. I didn't know I had a stain," I said as I inspected Cordelia's ruined dress.

It was such a pretty dress... It's a shame it got stained. Cordelia will be devastated when she finds out.

"Hey, would you two dames like to dance?" A gentleman asked. He and another young man with black hair were staring at us expectantly.

Jordan smiled, showing off her feline teeth yet again. "Well, lets not just sit around and beat eachother's gums... Lets go dancing!"

Jordan's hand grasped mine and pulled me to the dance floor. Upbeat jaz music was playing and the surrounding dancers were moving their feet to the accelerated tempo. The two gentlemen that approached us came to our sides and began dancing.

It only took a moment for Jordan and her dance partner to dance out of my view. I was actually relieved to have Jordan away from me. Something about her just makes me feel uneasy.

"Hey Doll, aren't you going to dance?" The guy that was next to me asked as he straightened his black hair and moved his feet to the beat.

"Don't call me doll," I said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. "Let me go!"

The man leaned in closer to me, "well, aren't you a pretty little bearcat. You're the type of dame I could see spending some clams on."

"What are you even talking about? I couldn't understand any of what you just said!" I said loudly, trying to make my voice carry over the loud music. "Please let me go. I don't want to dance."

"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket doll! The songs are just now getting good!"

I tried pulling my hands away, but the man's grip only tightened. Not having many other options, I stomped my heeled shoe on his dancing foot.

Instantly, he let go of my hands and began tending his hurt foot. "You dumb dora! Don't you know who I am?!"

I shook my head, "no, and I don't care to know!"

"Well if you wern't such a sheba, I wouldn't give you the time of day," he said cruelly. "Alvin Dewmond. Remember that name because you haven't seen the last of me."

"Excuse me Old Sport, but I believe this young lady wants you to leave her alone."

Alvin turned to who spoke up, "so? What are you going to do about it?"

Gatsby smiled, "it's not what I will do, but what my friends here will do for me."

Just after he said that, three members of his staff appeared and surrounded the now fearful man. They held onto his collar and calmly escorted him out of the backyard.