I might have expected my mother to be a bitch tonight, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. My armor of choice was sarcastic comments and jokes. But I had nothing at the moment, feeling deflated and embarrassed Mason heard her comments.
“I’m sorry she was rude to you,” I said, studying my toes.
Mason turned to face me and lifted my chin up. “Don’t you dare apologize for her. And I wasn’t really the one she insulted. You deserve so much better than this. I hope you know that.”
I looked at him and realized he really meant what he just said. I put my hand on his chest and leaned closer. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. Things are likely to get worse from here.”
His head tilted down, and he lightly touched his lips to mine.
“How’s the food at these things?” Mason asked.
“Terrible. Unless you like unpronounceable, tiny dishes.”
Mason winked at me. “Let’s live a little and eat at least three mystery dishes.”
I felt the corners of my mouth lift into a smile. “You’re on. Just don’t come crying to me afterward when you have intestines stuck in your teeth.”
“Do I want to know?”
I scrunched up my nose. “It’s a French specialty. Just don’t eat anything that sounds likeAndouillette. Even if you think the waiter said baguette.”
“Noted.” He waved to a passing waiter. “Drink?” he asked and lifted two glasses off the tray before I could respond.
“Thanks,” I said and gratefully took the champagne he held out.
We almost made it to the other end of the room before someone stopped us again. And to think we were so close to the salvation of the dining room.
“Stella, sweetheart, how are you? It’s been ages,” a sickly-sweet voice stopped me. I tightened my hand holding the glass to stop it from slipping. Throwing precious alcohol on people was not the solution.
“Charlotte, it hasn’t been long enough,” I responded and grimaced at her, making sure to show all my teeth. I found that acting like you had a few cups missing usually got you out of uncomfortable situations quickly.
“And who is this interesting young man you brought with you today?”
“This is Mason. He’s my sponsor.”
Mason coughed next to me and squeezed my hand.
Charlotte’s smile didn’t slip. Probably because she had so much Botox in her face, it was hard to change facial expressions in under a minute. That was if she managed to at all.
“Well, he sure is something.” She held her hand out to Mason like she expected him to kiss it. I was ready to slap her hand away and just leave when Mason leaned into her.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not supposed to touch people. Part of my parole,” he whispered. It was my turn to cough and struggle to hold back the laughter.
“Is that Judy? I think it is. I better go and say hello,” Charlotte stuttered and left in a cloud of Clive Christian No. 1.
Good riddance. Too bad that she was the biggest gossip and soon the whole room would think I was an addict and Mason an ex-con. But I didn’t really care, since getting rid of her quicker than I had ever managed before was worth it.
“I can see why you like hanging around these people. They’re charming,” Mason remarked and stopped another waiter, this time for the tray of food he was carrying. “Does the name of this sound even remotely like baguette?” he asked and pointed to the little squares on the plate.
The waiter didn’t miss a beat and shook his head. “No, sir. These are caviar bites.”
“Sounds safe enough to me,” Mason said and grabbed three off the plate. He put all of them in his mouth at the same time, but as soon as he started to chew his face went slack. He looked around wide-eyed, and I turned to the waiter.
“Can I borrow that serviette over your arm please?”
The waiter handed it over without complaint, and I passed it to Mason who buried his head inside. He emerged shortly after and rolled the serviette together.
“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. And I’ve swallowed oil before.” He wiped his tongue with the side of the napkin that wasn’t rolled up. “You could have warned me.”
