The meeting had been fine, but after dinner, she encountered Nora in the ladies’ room, where they found themselves alone, both checking their makeup. She was fairly certain Miss Chandler had followed her. Mia decided she wouldn’t say anything to the New York socialite, and she hoped and prayed Nora wouldn’t comment on what she’d walked in on earlier.
But, of course, she did. “Say, I heard you were new to the city, and this year, I think we’re the only two debs representing New York. I wanted to wish you well with the ball, and believe it or not, with Clay, too.”
“Thank you,” Mia replied as she kept her eyes on applying more pink gloss to her lips.
Nora studied her for a moment, and then added. “You do know he was arrested for assault on numerous occasions, right? He’s got an alcohol problem and a temper. There were vandalism charges, wanton endangerment, assault, and a list of other violations. It was all in the papers a few years ago, and then his daddy had a lawyer fix it all for him. I mean, no one considers him husband material, if you know what I mean. You should be really careful when you’re alone with him.”
“No, I didn’t know, but thanks for the warning.” Mia dropped the tube of gloss into her Jimmy Choo black clutch with the long chain strap, a gift from her aunt, and snapped it shut. “What’d you say your name is again?” Mia attempted to play dumb. There was no sense in upsetting either herself or Nora. She knew her name, but they had yet to speak to each other.
“Nora. Nora Chandler,” the blond replied. “He tends to be fickle with the ladies too, so watch your back.”
“Thanks for the warning. It’s nice to meet you, and even nicer that you’re looking out for me. I appreciate it.” There. Mia hoped her statement would be enough to give them some sort of basis for a friendship whenever they encountered each other. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she’d run into Nora.
“You’re welcome, and it’s nice to meet you, too.” Nora breezed out of the powder room and Mia sighed with relief. In a few more days, the ball would be over, and life could return to normal.
However, as she made her way back to the dinner table where her aunt and Clay waited, the words the Chandler heiress had shared swam around in her head. Assault, alcohol issues, vandalism, and wanton endangerment. Maybe some other things. Clayton had certainly been busy. There was no telling what he was really like under that suave, handsome exterior, and if he was anything like Brett with regard to women, she didn’t want to waste her time with him.
THE EVENING OF THE ball finally arrived. Clay knew Mia was more nervous than ever. She’d said the Paris debutante ball over Thanksgiving week had been difficult because everyone spoke in French, but she’d been less nervous because it was in Europe. It had seemed far removed from American society except for a few debs from Hollywood, she’d explained. He hadn’t attended that ball, and he intended to make tonight as memorable as possible for her. Everyone would be there. High profile guests, his parents and siblings, and even a distinguished British Duke and Duchess with their debutante daughter were present. A Scottish Earl and Countess were also among the guests, and it was well known their daughter lived in a castle.
When Miss Morgan appeared at precisely five o’clock for the group photos, she took his breath away in her white satin gown. It had a scoop neckline and short sleeves on a lace capped satin, fitted bodice. She wore a simple strand of real pearls, and a tiara her aunt had loaned her for the event. She appeared a little wobbly on her heels, but she managed to skate through the debutante group photo session. Then there was the presentation to the escorts, and another group photo with all of them together. The twenty girls in their beautiful white gowns with their escorts looked happy together, but Clay knew they were only so because the pressure of the event was finally coming to an end.
After this, the girls and escorts formed a receiving line to greet guests. He shook hands with Mia’s parents whom he’d met the previous day. Mia shook hands with his parents, who’d arrived that evening. During the cocktail and canapés hour, he was somewhat alarmed and amused when Mia took to crawling on the floor beneath a chair.
“Do you have a cocktail napkin?” she’d asked him. He’d handed her one within his reach and moments later, to the great alarm and dismay of Aunt Sylvia and their mothers, Miss Morgan was down on all fours in her white evening gown.
Mia emerged from reaching for something under the chair at a nearby table. “Got it!” she hollered, holding her arm straight up in the air with something wrapped in the napkin. The room grew quiet enough to have heard a pin drop.
“Thank you, thank you dear girl,” an elderly man said as he stepped into view. He patted her on the shoulder. On closer inspection, Clay realized along with the others in their circle, she’d retrieved the guest’s lower set of false teeth. Apparently they’d flown out of his mouth and had ended up tumbling under a chair.
He rushed to her side to assist Mia to her feet as Aunt Sylvia, his mother, Mia’s mother, and a few others gasped. Seldom had anyone witnessed anything of the kind at one of these events, and he’d been through more than his fair share with three younger sisters. Thankfully, she emerged with his help, tiara and up-do intact, holding the prize. Clay silently whispered a prayer up to thank God she had used a napkin, and not gloved hands. However, their mothers and his aunt appeared shocked, as though the crime of the century had been performed before them.
“I think I’m going to need another glass of champagne,” he heard his mom say to his dad. Sylvia LaVeque was grasping Cassie Morgan’s arm while wincing, and Cassie Morgan observed the fiasco with her mouth open.
Finally, they lined up to escort the girls onto the stage in a promenade after the guests had filed into the dining room. This was their big moment. Each girl would be introduced as they dropped into a curtsy to those in attendance. To both of their relief, Mia pulled off the curtsy at his side as her escort without any difficulty, and soon they were seated for dinner. The worst was over. They had one dance to get through after the meal.
Wrestling to separate her lobster from the tail accompanying the meal of steak, twice baked mashed potatoes, and Caesar salad, Mia grimaced as she attacked the lobster with her knife in a vigorous manner. He could tell her nerves were still in overdrive when she spoke through grimaced teeth, “How does one...?”
There was a long gap of silence when the tail dislodged, and sailed through the air. It landed in Nora Chandler’s mother’s hair at the table beside theirs.
“Uh-oh, don’t look now.” Mia squirmed uncomfortably. A look of alarm spread across everyone’s eyes at his table, and especially Sylvia LaVeque’s face.
While Mia smothered half of a giggle and then a hiccup, Nora’s mother continued to chat to the guests at her table, unaware. The lobster tail had landed in such a way in her hair as though it was a fashionable piece to accent her fancy up-do. Clay silently observed the lobster tail as Mrs. Chandler’s head moved this way and that when she spoke. It only slightly flitted with her movements on the back of the crown of her head. Apparently, Nora’s mother hadn’t felt a thing.
Clay reached out and tried to retrieve it, but each time he did so, Nora’s mother moved her head in a different direction. Finally, he was able to discreetly grasp it, plucking it from her elegantly coiffed hair. He returned the tail to their table, where he left it on a cocktail napkin near his plate until a waiter whisked it away. Mia mouthed silent words of thanks to him, and he nodded with a grin, wondering what might happen next. Aunt Sylvia released a lengthy sigh and averted her eyes.