The Spectator

Chapter 7: Table Manners

 A/N: A few things: 1) I referred to Nate's boat as Ol' Skipper in the last chapter as a stand in for it's actual name. I'm sure they mentioned it at some point on the show but... je ne sais pas. So if you know it's actual name, comment. 2) I've mentioned Junot Diaz so far and there's another cameo coming up. Except not really because I changed his first name. Just wanted to say: Never met these lovely men, so their portrayals are entirely fictitious. 3) The Spanish word I mention later on in the middle of the chapter? It means cunt (at least it does for Cuban Americans). Just for context. Apologies for being crude but *shrugs.* 

Now, with that business taken care of, we've got a dinner party to get back to!

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     "Are there assigned seats or..." Ella murmured as they made their way over to the dining room.

     "Yeah, probably, just look for your name," Nate advised her.

     "Ooh, this is like the first day of school," She giggled with a nervous little shake. Nate put what he meant to be a reassuring hand on the small of her back— but removed it immediately. Ella was surprised by even the brief moment of contact. He usually never touched her.

     Nate made a beeline to where Blair and Chuck were already seated, knowing they would have placed him near them. Ella trailed behind, hoping she wouldn't be seated far from Nate. He took a look at the place cards and, sure enough, Ella was seated between him and Serena.

     He pulled out her seat with a gentlemanly sweep. "Madame."

     "Why thank you, good sir," She giggled again, taking her seat. While she sat, Nate caught a glimpse of bare thigh as the slit in her skirt parted for a brief moment. Ella adjusted it with a shake of her head.

     "This is why I always wear pants," She commented in a whisper, making him smile as he sat.

     He began to reply-- and it was going to be witty, too-- but was interrupted by an older man who clapped him on the shoulder

     "Nathaniel Archibald, as I live and breathe! Haven't seen you out and about in ages!"

     "Max, how are you doing?" Nathaniel stood to shake the man's hand. Ella stared wide-eyed. Max? As in Max Thompson, the CEO of the New York Times? Now, this was a CEO that she didn't have to google to recognize!

     "Fine, just fine. How's that troublesome family of yours? Or that upcoming mayoral election I've been hearing rumors about?"

     Nate laughed. "Ah, the reporter in you never rests, does it Thompson?

     Lighthearted as his tone was, Ella saw him square his shoulders tensely. Realizing he was being rude, Nate stepped back so Ella came into Mr. Thompson's view. "Ella, this is Max. Max, Ella."

     Ella stood quickly to shake his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thompson."

     He took her hand. "Please, call me, Max. Nathaniel, I didn't realize you were dating. She's absolutely lovely!"

     The man circled the table to take his seat just across from them as Nate opened his mouth to correct him. However, Ella beat him to it, a charming smile spreading across her face.

     "She appreciates the compliment, but she is not his date," She corrected him liltingly, taking her seat again before leaning forward to say in a confidential tone, "Honestly, I just tagged along for the free food."