Alexia? I look down and see they’ve extended their hand to me. I shake Sofia’s first then Paul’s. “It’s Lexie, actually.” And that’s the extent of my conversation. Gabriel and the couple chat about art and buildings as I discreetly stare at the people at this shindig. I can’t help noticing the clothing, especially on the women. I’d say a good sixty percent are wearing those boring black shift dresses Gabriel tried to get me to wear. The other forty percent may not be wearing black shift dresses, but they are wearing something dark and plain. I look down at myself and feel the heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. I stand out like a sore thumb. No wonder Gabriel was concerned about my clothing. I look ridiculous.
Pulled from my self-deprecating thoughts, Gabriel takes my hand again. “Come on, let’s mingle.”
So, that’s what we do. We walk around sipping champagne glass after champagne glass as Gabriel talks to people always introducing me as Alexia. I stop correcting him after a bit because, why bother? Well, let me rephrase that. I let him do that five or six times until I’ve had enough. We’ve stopped walking for a moment, so I take the opportunity to say my peace, “Gabriel?”
“Yes?” he says absently. He’s too busy looking around for the next person to hobnob with to look at me.
“My name is Lexie.”
He scoffs a little, “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
He finally looks down at me with those bright green eyes. “My name is Lexie. It’s not Alexia. I…”
“But, Alexia sounds more…”
“Fancy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t use that word. Elegant. I’d say it sounds more elegant.”
“Look. Mr. Parker. My name is Lexie. It’s on my birth certificate, L-e-x-i-e. If you can’t call me by my real name, I’m going to go home.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you obviously don’t like me the way I am so…”
“I like you the way you are,” he says defensively.
“I don’t think you do.”
“Of course I do. I…” He’s interrupted when an older couple steps up to us.
“Gabriel,” says the older woman.
“Pamela. Bart. How are you this evening?”
“We’re wonderful. Her work is amazing,” Pamela singsongs.
“It is. Isn’t it? Oh, let me introduce you to my date. Al…uh, Lexie I’d like to introduce you to Pamela and Bart McGovern.”
I raise my hand to shake Pamela’s hand first. “My dear. Whatareyou wearing?” Pamela asks emphasizing the ‘are’ in her question making me blush with embarrassment.
I soldier on, but in the back of mind, I’m planning my escape route. I’m ready to go home. “It’s vintage Dior,” I say shyly.
“I thought so!” says Pamela excitedly. “And the shoes? Are they vintage Chanel?”
I smile because I think she’s actually on board with my clothes. “Yes.”
“Whereeverdid you find them?”
“Maybelle’s.”
“Oh, IloveMaybelle’s.”
“I’ve only been once, but I plan to go back.”
“We should go together, sweetheart. I’d love to get your opinion.”
