Part 4
She could tell that Dorota spilled the beans the moment they stepped into the restaurant and she saw her mother's face. Eleanor had not spotted them yet, so her glare was only towards the flute of champagne that had been opened too early. Blair checked her watch, and noted that they were eighteen minutes late to their own engagement party.
She worried her lip, and Chuck noticed quickly because he plucked her lower lip with his thumb, relieving it from the punishing bite of her teeth. He took off the watch from her wrist. "You'll get this when you're not so stressed."
"I have clock settings on my phone," she retorted.
"You don't want me to take your phone," he warned her.
"You don't have the right to take my phone!"
"I'm your husband," he said with such arrogant demeanor that she wanted to use the very newest model to whack him on the side of the head. "Just like I have to agree to your demands, Mrs Bass, you should learn to give in to me."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Never."
Chuck shook his head. He pulled at her small bag and unzipped it, then while she sputtered in her offense at having her privacy so abused, he took her phone and slipped it in his pants. "You'll get this when you learn to meet me halfway."
"I guess I'll just a buy a new phone," she said flippantly.
"I guess I'll just convince your parents that I can support you on my own. That wouldn't be hard to do."
Her eyes widened in horror. "You mean to say all my allowance would depend on you?"
He shrugged. "It might make us closer." He took her by the elbow and tugged her beside him so that they could walk together. "I'm not going to starve you. And taking your mind away from time is only for your benefit."
"You are a tyrant, and I hate you!"
"You don't mean that. You love me," he said teasingly. The humor in his eyes vanished. Blair noticed that she had held her breath the moment the words came out of his mouth, and so she was expecting a continuation. There was probably some desperate hope in her eyes that panicked him. "You're not late for your engagement party. If anything, your engagement party was late," he pointed out.
Roman had spotted them as they crossed the dining area of the restaurant, because he nodded towards them and Blair saw his lips move. If there had been any doubt, it would have been squelched by the additional four pairs of eyes turning to them. They drew nearer and Blair's gaze focused on her mother.
"Eleanor, not here. Be happy for the kids," she heard her father say.
She wondered if her father realized that from now on she would be sleeping under the same roof as Chuck Bass. The warmth in her father's voice was still so magnetic in the same way that her mother's displeasure was repellant, so Blair crossed paths with Chuck to embrace her father. Again, Chuck was left to the Rose couple.
"Congratulations, sweetheart!"
"Miss Blair, why you not wait?" Dorota said mournfully. The woman probably dreamed about her charge's wedding all her life, and she had been stripped of the opportunity to help her once little girl through the planning.
She met Dorota's eyes from over her dad's shoulder, and she smiled. "It was spur of the moment, Dorota," Blair defended. "You know Chuck."
"Well," Harold decided, "I hope it was memorable for you."
Dorota waved her phone. "She has enough memories on the internet."
Blair supposed Dorota was still on Gossip Girl's website. "It was very memorable, daddy. Most things are with Chuck." Memorable, unforgettable, or just plain humiliation at its zenith that it got tattoed on your mind.
She turned to see how her new 'husband'—she wondered why there were still air quotes in her head—fared against the Inquisition.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to share the moment with us, Mrs Rose," he said somberly.
"You don't look sorry at all, Charles," her mother stressed. "I'm tempted to believe you intentionally got married today to hurt me."
"That's not true, Mrs Rose. We weren't thinking of you at all." His eyes turned to her, and Blair's breath caught in her throat. Chuck was the finest actor in all of New York, if he could summon a look like that for her parents' benefit. He had a small smile on his face. "I wanted to marry Blair today. And I didn't want to wait."
Eleanor's lips parted. Cyrus shook his head. "Are you pregnant?" Eleanor exclaimed in disbelief.
"What?" Blair screeched. "No!" She made a face of disgust. "Ugh."
"Lovely sentiment, Mrs Bass," Chuck drawled.
Cyrus waved his hands to the fully loaded table. "Sit, sit everyone." Blair felt Chuck's hand on the small of her back as he led them to the two empty seats at the table. His palm radiated warmth into her spine. She found herself following where his hand led her. "I would like the honor of giving the first toast." Cyrus laughed softly. "But I have nothing prepared anymore! I'd prepared to toast to your impending nuptials, and some online magazine tells us you're already married. I should have known young people wouldn't be able to wait." Blair flushed. "Well, cheers to your impatience. That's what makes youth fun."
Chuck smirked and lifted his champagne flute, clinked it with Cyrus'. Reluctantly, Eleanor raised her glass to her husband's toast. Chuck swallowed his drink and eyed Blair's glass. Blair picked up her glass and drank to the toast.
Harold stood up and beamed at her, and Blair felt like a little girl again after showing her father a picture that she had colored perfectly within the lines. Only this time, her painting was so messy, so uncertain, so hastily done he could hardly be proud. But when her dad looked at her, he looked like he was.
And that just brought tears to her eyes. "Here is to my lovely girl, who has never done anything unplanned or unexpected. Until Charles." She looked at Chuck from the corner of her eye, and she could have sworn he blushed. Her father continued, "Don't think Dorota hadn't show me the archives of that magazine. Dancing on stage, Blair?"
"Dorota!" she protested laughingly. Victrola was over a year ago. She did not realize Gossip Girl kept archives that long. She clapped her hands over her cheeks and felt her hot skin. "Daddy—"
Harold waved off what would have been an apology. "I just want to say, Charles—"
Chuck looked at Harold straight in the eye. "Yes sir?"
"Thank you for bringing my daughter out of that box. Her life would have been very dull if she stayed there."
She felt Chuck's hand reached for hers under the table. His hand tightened around hers. Her father—a father—was telling him he did the right thing. Her heart swelled for Chuck.
She was caught off guard when Chuck turned to her and asked, "Did I?"
Blair's lips curved and she sipped her champagne. "You certainly broke the monotony."
"This is to Charles. I never once expected to call you son. But I'm happy to do it now," Harold said in cheers.
Chuck grinned, and she was glad she gave him that at least. He finished off his glass and Roman poured him more. "One last glass, Charles," Roman said.
Blair wanted to tell him that no one cut Chuck Bass off from anything.
Eleanor picked up her drink and rose to her feet. This time, it was Blair's hand that tightened around his. Her heart thundered. Chuck lifted her hand to his lips.
"This one is not for you, Charles," Eleanor began. He held her hand tightly, and Blair was grateful for the silent support. "Blair. You're an adult. You became an adult the moment you turned eighteen. That's why you didn't need me or your father to sign off on this decision." The words were clipped, dispassionate. Blair swallowed. She reached for a glass of water and tipped it into her mouth. "Married at eighteen and to a boy like Charles. Your decision. And your decision to get married in a quick, quiet wedding wearing," Eleanor shuddered, "ready to wear."
Chuck opened his mouth, but she dug her nails into his hand to keep him quiet.
"But I am still your mother, and I want you to know that even if you can make all these decisions on your own, I want you to come to me if there are problems. I may not be the poster child for it, but I believe marriages are forever. And you had better make this last that long. I couldn't do it," her mother said. "But if anyone can do it, it would be my daughter."
Blair blinked at her mother, wordless. "What?" she whispered.
"It's all good," Chuck said into her ear. "Say thank you."
Blair choked out the words, "Thank you, mom."
Eleanor broke into a smile and wrapped Blair up in an embrace. Blair squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her arms around Eleanor. Cyrus hugged. So much. But Eleanor barely did, and Blair enjoyed the experience. It was probably going to be once in forever.
There was that word again.
Forever.
Just like everyone in this room probably thought she was going to be Mrs Bass. No one else knew Chuck like her. No one else understood how quickly a Bass can rise and recover. All she needed to do was survive long enough to help him back to his feet, and she could in good conscience give him back his life the way he loved it—single, carefree, no commitments, no limits.
Food moved around the table and slowly, they filled her plate. Blair pushed at the food until Chuck leaned over and speared the large cut of pork chop au poivre from her plate. She sighed in relief, because there was no way she could finish it without being overwhelmed by the urge to throw up. And then she watched in amazement as Chuck cut it into smaller pieces then placed the food back on her plate.
It was utterly tender, and she hated that he could be tender. It was like he was not as screwed up as she was right then.
"I'm not a kid, Chuck," she snapped.
She felt her father's eyes on her. Blair frowned. She popped one of Chuck's cut strips into her mouth and chewed. She saw him throw an embarrassed look at her dad. "What are you doing?" he hissed at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. Blair opened her mouth. Chuck held up a finger to shush her, sending her temper flaring. "Excuse us," he gritted.
He pulled her along with him until they were in the quiet corridor on the way to the bathroom. At least they were out of earshot.
Chuck gave her an expectant look. "Well?" he prompted.
"You are not a big deal, Chuck. You are so full of yourself."
He looked appalled. "Where is this coming from, Blair? Your ass? Because this just popped out of nowhere."
She stabbed her finger into his chest repeatedly. "I am perfectly capable of using a fork and a knife and preparing my own food."
"That's it?" he cried incredulously.
"You are not the boss. You don't get to keep my phone like you're study hall monitor."
"You want your phone?" he demanded. Chuck fished it from his pocket and slapped it into her palm. "What else?"
"And you," she hissed, "don't get to hold the money, or stop my dad from giving me any."
"We're married. It's bound to happen."
"I will never be in a position where all my money has to come from you," Blair told him.
"Why not?" he asked, as if her demand were the most preposterous thing in the world. "You're my wife, Blair."
She shook her head. "You don't know how it feels to live with the constant fear that it can be gone any moment."
"What are you talking about?" He shook his head. "You're never getting cut off. Money is not an issue for us, Blair."
Money.
That was easy. Such an easy out. Money. He thought she was afraid of losing money once he asked her dad to stop sending her monthly allowance.
God, he thought she was so shallow.
She had to get him completely back to his feet, functional, and to the top of Bass Industries. The sooner, the better. The sooner it was, the less chances she would get used to people calling her Mrs Bass.
"Truce?" he said softly, offering her his hand.
How could there be treaty when the scales were so sharply in favor of one side? Blair placed her hand in his. She did not speak, but he pulled her with him back to the table as if she had agreed.
"Blair?" her father prompted when they returned to the table. "Is everything okay?"
She forced a smile. "Yes, dad. Chuck and I are going to convince headmistress Queller to let Chuck back in tomorrow."
"Defense?"
"Four thousand words and counting," Blair returned.
"Summary?"
"Chuck has too much potential not to finish high school."
"A little weak," Harold critiqued.
Blair nodded, then continued, "And his name is too high profile not to have in St Jude's alumni roster."
"That's my girl," Harold answered.
Blair glanced back at Chuck. She felt the hair on her arms rise when she noticed how he looked at her. "What do you think?" she asked him. "Will Queller surrender?"
"I think you're brilliant, Mrs Bass. No one stands a chance."
tbc
