Forever | h.s.

Chapter 38

~Annabel's POV~

"Can I have this dance?" Mark asked, holding a hand out and bowing. I laughed, and took his hand. He led me to the middle of the ballroom, and slipped his fingers through mine, as his other hand traveled to my waist. I was a little bit uncomfortable under his touch, since I did have a boyfriend, but I realized Mark was my date afterall, and Harry wasn't even here. Classical music began to play, and we swayed along to the music, just as everyone else was.

"Thank you for being my date, it really means a lot to me." I smiled warmly.

"My pleasure, just make sure your boyfriend doesn't find out, because I don't really want to die anytime soon." He joked, chuckling.

We danced until the song ended, making minimal conversation, and having a good laugh now and then. Mark was actually a very good dancer. I would assume he was a member of the country club, or was a higher class, instead of working at an ice cream parlor, considering the way he danced, spoke, and acted. After the song ended, we walked back to the side of the room, and Mark left momentarily, to grab us two glasses of champagne.

"Thanks," I smiled, taking a tall, slim glass from him.

"My pleasure. Anyways, tell me about yourself." He smiled, crossing his ankles.

"What would you like to know?" I smiled back, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything."

"Well, I'm 19 years old, I'll be 20 in about a month-"

"No, not basic details! I want your story. Your actual, full life story." He pushed, smirking at me.

"Oh, you don't want to know that." I shook my head, laughing a bit.

"Sure I do. I asked, didn't I?"

"What about you? Why don't you tell me something about yourself?" I asked, trying to change the subject, and hoping he forgets about my story.

"Alright.." He breathes, looking up at the ceiling as if he was thinking. "I'm 20, and my father is Christopher Brookes."

"As in the CEO of Palace Enterprise?!" I gasped, intrigued.

"That's him." Mark nodded.

"Wow, I didn't know you came from a wealthy family." I blurted.

"Well," He began.

"No, no! That's not what I meant, I meant because you work at an ice cream parlor, and you-"

"Don't worry about it," Mark chuckled. "I know what you meant."

"Good," I smiled sheepishly, my cheeks turning pink.

"I only work at that ice cream shop, because I don't want to be known as Chris Brookes' son. I want to be known as my own person, and the only way that seems easy enough to achieve, is working somewhere low key."

"So, you don't want to follow in your father's footsteps?"

"I mean, his business is pretty awesome. It's cool, what he does. But I don't want to spend my whole life designing suits, and shoes, and whatever else he designs."

"But it's a brand name company, don't you want to continue it once your dad, you know..." I say, not wanting to say the word.

"I'll leave that to my brothers. They seem to want to carry on the family name more than I do, anyways. Why would I spend my whole life, working on something that's already so popular, when there's a whole world of different opportunities out there for me to discover?" He shrugs, sipping the champagne. I nodded, processing all that was just said. Mark Brookes, I realized, wasn't some snotty rich kid, that owned everything, and wanted more. He was down to earth, optimistic about life.