Flytrap | WATTYS 2022 SHORTLIST

17 | Nectar

Before long, they turned onto a street lined with cars on both sides. Crowds of people who were dressed in what were probably custom made, thousand-dollar suits strolled towards the elaborate gated entrance. Even from where she sat, Barbara could see a dazzling array of colors twinkling beyond the gate and into the night. Music blared through the rolled down windows, shaking the car with its pulsating, instrumental rhythm. Sure, she didn't expect Bruce to be a fan of today's hits, but seriously? Classical music? This was a party, not a 19th-century masquerade ball.

After somehow squeezing into a parking space, they clambered out of the car-James having to help Barbara into the wheelchair while Pamela stood to the side, pouting. Though this place should be heaven for her, Pamela looked like she was in Hell, tortured by the bright neon lights shining all around her.

Even as they made their way towards the entrance, Pamela trailed behind as if she were stalling for time. And as much as Barbara hoped it was because she was having second thoughts about this whole marriage thing, something told her it had more to do with the man who planned this shower.

"Hey, Commissioner! It's about time you showed up!" A man all too familiar to Barbara grinned from against the pillared structure. "We all thought you'd gotten lost."

"Hey there, Harvey." James laughed as he shook the man's hand. "I'm surprised you managed to find the time to come with all your 'work'."

"You know I wouldn't miss this." His eyes shifted past James, lighting up like one of the decorative trees. "Ah, Pamela. You look as beautiful as ever."

With a smile, Pamela stepped forward into the center of the circle of men and wrapped her gloved arm around James. "Harvey. It's nice to see you too."

Barbara couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Gone was the woman who couldn't seem to keep her eyes-and arms-off the D.A. Now, all her attention had been turned back to her fiancé, who was clearly loving it. With every man in the group practically drooling over Pamela, her father looked as proud as a peacock having such a stunning young woman at his side.

Yep. It was clear no man was immune to Pamela's looks or the sight of her in a low-cut gown. No man, that is, except for Bruce Wayne. Appearing with his own redhead beside him, he didn't so much as glance at her as he greeted the couple with a smile.

"Jim. Pamela. I'm so glad you could make it."

"How could we miss this?" James gestured to the display of elegance around him. "Seriously, Bruce. You really outdid yourself here. I don't even know how to begin to thank you."

"Yes," Pamela chimed in. "With the week you've had, it's a wonder you had time at all."

Bruce chuckled, though his eyes carried no hint of humor in them. "You've been a great friend, Jim. It's the least I could've done. Now, why don't we stop standing around and go see the rest of it?"

At the question, his gaze flickered to Pamela. "Jim told me you're a floral enthusiast, which is why I chose to have the shower here. I'll be honest. I don't know much about plants, but I hope you enjoy what I've put together."

Pamela's lips widened into a beaming smile, one so sweet it would melt any man's heart. "Oh, how thoughtful! I'm sure I'll love it."

"Then please, let me show you around." Bruce returned her grin, gesturing for the group to follow him. As soon as his back was turned, Pamela's smile fell, and she was back to glaring daggers at him.

In all her years visiting Gotham, Barbara had never set foot inside the botanical garden, having found it of no interest. And now, with blues and purples of all different shades captured in strings of light dangling from the willows around her, she felt no different. Once the initial wave of awe was over, Barbara thought this couldn't have been a bigger waste of time and money. Gotham was falling apart at the seams, and its wealthiest citizen had spent thousands of dollars to host a lavish party in a garden he owned.