Della's Dream Job
Perry was on his third drink when he saw Hamilton lead Della to the dance floor. She moved with such elegance that she made even Hamilton look adept. When the dance ended, Cole Petersen tapped in for his turn. Perry mused that just watching her move with that perfect combination of grace and agility was a delight which he could never tire.
A firm hand on his arm forced him to pull his attention away from the ballroom and back into the bar, where he was becoming rather comfortable as the liquor started to take effect. "Perry, aren't we going to dance?" Perry blinked and looked at Laura as if seeing her for the first time. As his eyes and mind refocused, his desire to escape her only increased.
"No, Laura. We are not. I'm more than content to stay here on this padded stool and become quite drunk. I'm sure one of the eager young partners would be more than happy to dance with you so as not to risk getting replaced by someone more handsome." He knew exactly how much she hated it when he mocked her by throwing her own words back in her face.
Like a big cat, Laura brought her shoulders back, preparing to unleash her anger. But she checked herself, knowing that unbridled fury wouldn't work with Perry in his current state of mind. Instead, she spun around and strode purposefully back to the table, grabbing the hand of Steven Carlisle and practically dragging him behind her as she headed for the dance floor. Perry watched as Laura swung into Carlisle arms. Della was dancing with Mark Simmons, matching her steps to her partner's slower moves. Out of the corner of his eye, Perry noticed Laura manipulating Carlisle closer and closer to Della and Mark. Perry suddenly realized what Laura was up to, but could only watch helplessly as Laura executed her revenge. Swinging out from Steven's embrace, she extended her leg out far enough for the heel of her shoe to catch on the hem of Della's dress. The tug Laura gave threw Della off-balance and she fell down, pulling Mark almost on top of her.
Perry rushed to help, barely noticing Hamilton also sprinting toward the downed dancers. They reached the crumpled couple simultaneously, and tried to help them both to their feet, as smoothly as possible under the circumstances. The other guests had gathered around, either offering help or simply gasping and gawking.
As Della and Mark got to their feet, both of them still a little unsteady from the tumble, Mark began apologizing to Della for being so clumsy, while Della insisted that it was her fault. Hamilton had Della's hand, helping her back to their table, while Perry walked Mark back to his seat. Turning around, he saw Laura back in her seat laughing with the others at their table. He strode angrily over to her, roughly taking her arm and pulling her to her feet.
"Perry! What do you think you're doing?" He pulled her with him back to Hamilton's table. Pushing her forward with his hands firmly gripping her arms, he held her in place in front of Della.
"Miss Street, Miss Cavanagh owes you an apology."
Laura twisted, trying to get Perry to release her. She hissed between her teeth, "I don't owe this...person anything. It's not my fault she's clumsy."
Perry tightened his grip. "Oh, my dear, I think that even you would have trouble being graceful if someone stuck their foot out to trip you. Now apologize."
Laura knew that the steel in Perry's tone meant he was not going to let go until she did as he told her. With undisguised venom in her voice she spat. "Sorry."
Perry released his hold and she spun and slapped him as hard as she could. Then she hurried back to her chair, grabbing her fur and young Carlisle, wound her way through the maze of tables and out of the ballroom.
Perry turned his attention back to Hamilton and the others. "And I would like to offer my sincerest apologies to all of you and especially you, Miss Street, for that person's reprehensible behavior."
Della couldn't take her eyes off the bright red mark marring his handsome face, and she fought the urge to reach up and place her hand there to soothe him.
"It's alright Mr. Mason. I learned a long time ago to deal with bi...witches like her."
Hamilton looked around the table. "Perry, I don't think any of us would mind if you joined us."
"Thank you Hamilton. But first, I believe I reserved a dance with Miss Street. If you'll still have me and are up for it, that is?"
He held out his hand to her, his smile reaching all the way up past his deep dimples to crinkle the corners of his beautiful eyes. She put her hand in his, letting him help her to her feet, feeling like a schoolgirl on her first date. When he took her in his arms and began to move slowly around the floor, she felt as if she were floating.
Perry had never held a more delightful woman in his arms. Della followed his lead effortlessly. He took in every feature of her face as she concentrated on adjusting her movements to follow his steps and turns. This close to her, he noted a light sprinkling of freckles across her pert nose. Her full, luscious lips momentarily distracted him, as he wondered how they would feel pressed against his.
"Mr. Mason..." Della started quietly.
"My name is Perry, Della." He loved the way her name sounded on his lips, and even more, the way that their names sounded together.
"Perry. Shouldn't you go after Miss Cavanagh? I mean she is...was your date."
Perry executed an intricate turn and Della suddenly realized that Perry had danced them out onto the terrace, where they were now alone. "Della, I assure you that any interest that I may have had in that woman is now gone."
They moved across to the balustrade, looking out over the manicured grounds lit with hundreds of tiny lights. Perry removed a cigarette case from his jacket, taking one out and lighting it.
"I neglected to ask if you were okay after your fall. You didn't get hurt, did you?"
Della laughed softly, reminding Perry of a bell. "Other than my pride, no. I'm fine. But I'm going to owe my friend a new dress."
Perry looked at her quizzically. "Hmm?"
Della leaned down, pulling up the hem of her gown. At the bottom was a ragged hole where Laura's heel had snagged it.
Perry examined the rip, trying to see if it could be repaired. Even with his scant knowledge of women's fashion, he could see the damage that was done. He took Della's hand in his. "If you give me your friend's name, I will contact her and make sure the dress is replaced or at least that she is more than compensated for it."
"Oh no, Mr. Ma...Perry. That's not necessary. Janet is a good friend. She will understand."
"Oh, no, I assure you, I will see to it that the restitution will come out of that woman's hide."
Della laughed again and this time, Perry joined in. At that moment, Hamilton stepped out onto the terrace. "We were wondering where you two had disappeared to. I thought maybe Della was feeling some after effects of her spill."
"Thank you Hamilton. Miss Street just needed some fresh air. We'll be back in a moment." Perry's dismissive statement surprised both Della and Hamilton.
Della recovered first. "I'm fine Hamilton. Just give me a minute."
Hamilton looked from one to the other and although it was apparent that he wasn't pleased about the situation, he gave a cursory nod and returned to the ballroom.
Della looked up at Perry. "I don't think my escort is very happy with either of us. I should probably go back in."
As she turned to leave, Perry grasped her hand. "Della."
When she turned back, her breath caught in her throat at the smoldering look in his eyes. He started drawing her back into his arms.
"Mr. Mason, aren't you afraid that what you're thinking could get you slapped again?" she asked facetiously, but didn't resist his pull.
Perry nodded. "But this time the risk is well worth the reward."
And with that, he bent his head and captured her lips with his. Warmth flooded through Della and she instinctively pressed her body to his, causing a low groan from Perry and an immediate reaction in his groin.
So many thoughts flashed through Perry's mind: common sense telling him to stop, desire urging him to pull her body tighter against his and deepen the kiss. But when Della wound her arms around his neck, his rational side reluctantly resisted. He broke away and held Della at arm's length. "No slap?" he asked quietly.
When she didn't answer and instead tried to close the gap between them, he shook his head. "Della, please. I'm only human, and we're in public." He released her and took a step back. "Why don't I meet you back at the table?" When she frowned and started to protest, he smiled reassuringly. "Go on Della. I just need a minute. I'll join you shortly."
Della nodded, put her fingers to her lips and then reached up and gently touched the cheek that Laura had slapped. With that, she turned and headed back into the ballroom.