Page 35 of Power Games

"No protest. Interesting."

"I'd be more comfortable if we changed the subject, Grandma. We're in public."

Their table was slowly filling in with acquaintances. Cici smiled. "Of course. For now. Paula, what an exquisite dress you're wearing! You simply must tell me where you got it."

"Oh, this old thing? Last week, right off a Milan show. New designer. I'm not sharing."

"And to say I was about to suggest you take a look at Lola's latest collection. Very decadent; absolutely shocking, in fact. She's embraced that whole ‘ouvert’ thing. It's not out for a couple of months yet. But you know, what's an early order form between friends...?"

Paula spilled her designer, and Cici showed off Lola's latest lingerie. Vanessa couldn't keep herself from smiling, hoping that she'd also be interested in lingerie in her eighties. She didn't doubt that the two older ladies saw a lot more action than she did.

The food was delightful and the conversation considerably less dull than it would have been without her grandmother. The plates were small, but by the seventh course, she was nearly sated. The servers had kept her glass full throughout the meal, so after dessert, most guests found themselves inclined to open checkbooks and leave generous donations.

Professional dancers had been hired to get the guests started; three couples waltzed with an eerie grace in the middle of the ballroom. When the song ended, they split up and went to invite some others to join in. One of the male dancers requested Isabella's hand, bringing Vanessa's attention to the table she'd intentionally ignored until then. The moment she did, her eyes fell on Charles.

Ka-ka-boom. A heartbeat out of sync. Then, she felt her cheeks redden. Fuckity shitty fuck, why her? She must have been a really shitty person in another life.

Vanessa waved awkwardly and smiled, before redirecting her gaze to someone else, the first person she recognized in the crowd. She waved to him, too.

Thomas Pruckett took it as an invitation to get up and ask her to dance. Somehow, she managed to keep a smile on. Dammit. The guy smelled like an air freshener factory and had stepped on her feet a dozen times the last time she'd danced with him, because he was too busy talking about his investment firm to pay attention to what his feet were doing.

"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to leave Cici alone."

She looked at her grandmother pointedly, silently pleading.

"Nonsense, I'll be dancing as soon as Reverend Frederik sees me and comes to beg for my hand. Ah! Here he comes!"

Indeed, a still fit, very charismatic man in black was approaching. Vanessa sighed and accepted her fate, glad that she'd opted for closed-toe platforms.

14

Staking Hearts

Tonight sucked. He'd often found himself comparing Izzy to Vanessa, but he didn't think he'd ever truly understood the depth of the difference between the two women as well as he did now, watching them interact with the same crowd.

Izzy had picked a red dress that hadn't bothered Charles when he'd seen it, but no one else in the room was attired in something quite so short, shiny, or ostentatious. It was a very pretty dress, but unsuitable for the occasion. Vanessa's pleated ombre gown with dozens of different shades of blue was a head-turner; he'd watched men and women stare all night, but it did fit the occasion. She'd opted to wear nothing around her neck, but she had long silver earrings falling to her shoulders, perfectly complementing her hairstyle: a clever side-bun updo.

Izzy wore teardrop diamonds earrings, a gold choker with more diamonds, and Swarovski on her shoes.

It didn't end at their appearances. Izzy had been chosen by the professional dancer, and soon, she found herself accosted by a long line of single males who were taking liberties, touching her naked arms, her waist, and the top of her ass. She giggled and flirted with them, quite openly. Charles knew she'd been faithful since last year, but she didn't want to be. Her nature wasn't to give herself to one man. Or maybe she just didn't love him enough for that.

Vanessa was her opposite. She did accept a dance with the turd who came to claim her after her polite salute, but when his hand dropped too far down her back, she stopped swaying, grabbed it, and pulled it back up where it should be, calling him out without making a scene. Ignoring the handful of guys visibly waiting to approach her, she went back to her table, and asked an elderly man for the next dance. She also spent the rest of the evening giggling and smiling, but she did so with people who visibly adored and respected her.

Vanessa was...more. Simply more. Charles wondered what his life would have been like if he hadn't met her seven years ago. He might have lost faith in women with money, for one. The female staff at Jacobs were fine. He knew plenty of professionals who had as much brains, determination, and respect as any man. But what he'd seen of socialites had shown him that they were everything he despised. Self-indulgence, indifference to the suffering of others, megalomania. He'd watched Izzy become one of them, so it was catching. Vanessa had managed to escape their plague. She was hardworking, although she didn't need to be. Her sense of decorum left nothing to be desired. She cared about everything, from the environment to foster kids to foreign politics.

But he was married to Izzy. He'd chosen to stay married to Izzy. He had to let the woman go. For good.

He downed his drink in one gulp and got to his feet.

He was letting her go...after tonight. Just one more night.

The band ended their cover of Adele's song and started one of Vanessa's. How appropriate. Their singer couldn’t compare to her, but Charles recognized the lyrics.

She'd started to look around the room to find another partner. He didn't let her.

"May I?" he asked, capturing her wrist in his right hand.

She looked like a deer caught in headlights for a second. Then she cleared her throat, her eyes looking right behind him.

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