Being Perfect

Chapter 4

SCARLETT DEVERAUX

"My mother gave these to your aunt when she attended her Cotillion," my father says as he slips the two sparkling diamonds into my hands. The earrings have the shape of two raindrops, glittering in the light of a brightly lit summer day. Outside the Grand Hall it's not as bright. The rain has started to pour only minutes after we arrived. It has not stopped while I was slipping into my embroidered ivory dress. It kept getting stronger as my hair was braided into an intricate up-do and kept tapping against the windows of my changing room as the pearls were woven into my curls.

A lightning splits the sky, as I put the earrings on and check my face in the mirror. "Thank you, Dad," I choke out, trying to keep my emotions from slipping and ruining my make-up. "You will do very well tonight, I am sure, Scarlett," He nods curtly and walks out. To you this might not seem like much. To me this is as close to an affectionate expression of parental love I will ever get with my father. To me these words mean the world.

I take a look at my phone to check the time: 6:30 pm. I still have half an hour until Preston is supposed to knock on my door, compliment my style and offer me his arm to escort me to the stairs, where we will be making our public appearance. The thought makes me nervous, I will admit that. But it is nothing compared to the race I send my own heartbeat in, when I think about what will happen later. I have made plans for tonight and I am sure Preston will be more than pleased to hear about them. He thinks I do not know that he has booked a suite at The Plaza for tonight. He also does not know I wear my new Victoria's Secret lingerie underneath my very decent dress and that he will be the one removing it some mere hours from now.

Of course I could just keep this to myself, make it a surprise. But I still have half an hour to spend and I would rather spend it, telling him what he has to look forward to tonight than by thinking about it too much myself. If I tell him now, he will not have eyes for anyone or anything else this evening. I will be all he will be able to think about, if he will be able to think at all. A tiny part inside myself tries to admit that I also want to tell him, so I have no chance to back out again. So I will have to go through with it. I shut it down as I shut the door behind me, leaving the changing room to head for his.

***

"What's with your mood, man?", I hear Trevor's voice from inside. The door to the escort's changing room has been left open. "Still waiting for your little Miss Perfect to spread her legs?" I quickly step back. I know, eavesdropping is not very ladylike. But I will admit, I want to hear Preston's comeback more than I want to live up to my very ladylike appearance right now.

There are no words for a very long time and I picture Preston's annoyed face. He is probably rolling his eyes at his best friend, moving one hand through his meticulously styled, dark hair, shrugging off the immature comment. I almost think he won't even grace it with an answer, when I hear his voice. And it does not disappoint, the superiority ringing in every syllable, just like I had anticipated. What I had not anticipated, is what I have to hear.

PRESTON BROOKS JR.

My mood may have been better most other days of my life and Trevor's words give it the rest. Don't get me wrong, my mood would probably be a lot better if I would have had some release the last weeks. But that is not what causes me to clench my fists at my sides. It is not what makes me close my eyes in an effort to keep myself from exploding on him and it definitely is not what makes my insides boil over, as I open them again and get a glimpse of a very familiar shade of blonde through the half open door.

I kept telling myself I can handle it. I told myself I can make peace with the fact that my parents decide this part of my life as much as they decide everything else in it. Here comes the hard, unpleasant but nevertheless necessary truth: I can not.