What do you expect from an "accountant?"
Xavier married an accountant. I guess the rumors are true.
I'm not sure what my job has to do with getting married quickly, but at least none of the comments are too horrendous.
Seriously, social media makes people mean, yo.
The Uber arrives at The Tower, which is supposed to be one of the premier event locations in Boston. From the outside, it looks like a castle. Once through the heavy oak and gold gilded doors, it's like we're transported into the past. Marble tile, cherry archways, bronze chandeliers, and candles make this easily one of the swankiest places I've ever set foot in. It looks like it could be the set forThe Great GatsbyorThe Gilded Age.
In reality, I'm glad I'm wearing my wedding dress, as nothing else I own would have been appropriate for this place.
"Whoa, this is nice," I can't help but whisper.
"There's a lot of money in professional sports, especially when they're trying to get more money from the sponsors," Xavier whispers back.
"The old 'spend money to make money' adage?" I grin as we approach the coat check. I hand over my bouquet as well and rub my bare arms which are now chilly.
Okay, so I might be dressy enough, but I do feel a bit foolish wearing white and silver in the middle of November, especially in the sea of black and navy that every other female here seems to be dressed in.
I'm awkward enough. I don't need any more help standing out in this crowd of highly skilled professional athletes and their supermodel girlfriends. So, in order to ease my unease, I do the most sensible thing possible: I grab a glass of champagne from the waitress passing by.
Considering I've had several hard seltzers at the bar, and the last thing I had to eat was that bowl of Golden Grahams, it's probably not the smartest decision I've ever made.
And this says a lot coming from the woman who had no idea her boyfriend was cheating on her until thousands of strangers pointed it out on social media.
Xavier is glancing around the room, looking as unsettled as I feel.
"Do you know anyone here?" I whisper. From the looks we get from the people standing around us, I think maybe my whisper wasn't as quiet and subtle as I thought it was.
Xavier nods toward a freakishly tall, thin ginger across the room. "That's Kenley. He's the strength and conditioning coach. I roomed with him when I first came to the States. He's a good bloke. I've no doubt he put in a good word for me."
Xavier starts across the room. I don't know if I'm supposed to follow him, or if I'm on my own to mingle and stuff my face. Oh, are those pancetta-wrapped scallops? I snatch one and pop it in my mouth.
It's a little bigger than I'd thought which makes it difficult to chew. Naturally, this is when Xavier turns back to see what I'm doing and jerks his head to indicate I should be coming with him. There's no way I can chew this with elegance and grace, so I do my best to keep my mouth closed and not look like a heathen.
"Ophelia, I'd like you to meet Claude Kenley."
I try to swallow what's in my mouth, so I'm much more focused on that than what I say. "You don't look like a Claude."
The words are out before I can snatch them back. I gasp, and in doing so, inhale a bit of scallop right into my trachea. Xavier turns and stares at me as if he's never seen someone have a piece of shellfish cut off their main airway before.
I may add scallops to my list of creatures I'm afraid are trying to kill me. The only difference is that this mollusk may actually be successful. I almost wish it were truly lodged so someone could Heimlich me. But no, I'm full-on coughing and sputtering.
In other words, I'm making a scene.
"I'm okay," I wheeze, red-faced and spluttering. I'm not totally sure, but there may be part of a chewed-up scallop on the floor now.
Please, dear God, let no one be filming this.
Not that having food go down the wrong pipe is the same type of scandal that Xavier was talking about, but I don't want to mess this up for him. I'm his last chance.
The weight of that realization hits me for the first time, standing in this elegant space decorated with the Buzzards colors of aqua and black. This is a really big deal.
I'm not sure how Xavier could have trusted a virtual stranger with his future like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Still, it's a risk. I could be a wild card.
I mean, we all know I'm not.
