It took Tony a few more tries before he finally feasted on Serge's dishes, none of them like anything he had ever tasted before. He was incredibly proud of himself for making it one month. As he approached his two month anniversary of sobriety, he received an invitation to a gala unveiling of Tesla Motors' IronCar, the first consumer vehicle to use arc reactor propulsion. The event promised to be as star studded as the Oscars, with formal gowns on beautiful women and men in tailored tuxedos with black ties. He whistled as he tried on his suit a week before and took Sarah and Howard to the city to shop for clothes. Sarah admired some of the gowns on display while Howard had his suit fitted.
"So...what would you say if I told you to pick one out?" Tony asked.
"I'd say you were crazy. I don't have anywhere to wear something so nice."
"How about to the Tesla gala?"
Her jaw dropped, "What?"
"The Tesla gala. I'd love your company. And Howard would probably like somebody to talk to if I get tied up in an interview. You can also remind me not to touch the champaign."
"I'll stick out like a sore thumb. I am so not a society girl. I have no idea what to do in fancy situations."
"You'll be fine. Now, pick out a dress."
She went straight to an azure ballgown that glittered with crystals, "This is regal."
"Let's try it on you." He waved over an attendant and Sarah disappeared into a fitting room. The attendant dodged out a few times to bring things from other areas of the shop- foundation garments, shoes, long fingerless gloves, a few hairpins. When Sarah emerged to show off her dress, she was giddy. It fit well, with only a few alterations needed.
She twirled in front of Howard and Tony, "I look like Cinderella, but even more awesome!"
Howard clapped, "You're coming with us! This is so cool!"
By the end of the day, Sarah not only had her gown and shoes, but she also had jewellery she was convinced was worth more than her car.
It was not until they were in the limousine between the hotel and gala that Tony realised he would have to say something to the press to convince them that he and Sarah were not dating less than a year after his wife's death.
He was fretting over it when Howard piped up, "Just tell them she's my governess. She'll be spending most of the evening with me, anyway, while the press tries to get you to spill some deep and juicy secret."
"Well I hope to try to avoid any secret spilling tonight. I want a drama free day tomorrow."
"Not going to happen, Dad. Somebody's going to notice you not taking a glass and accuse you of being a raging alcoholic. Then everything's going to spiral out of control from there."
"But I am an alcoholic. That part wouldn't be a surprise to anyone."
"True."
Sarah was trying not to fiddle with the edge of her short cape as they pulled up to the red carpet, "Here we go..."
Someone opened the car door. Tony stepped out first, his smile wide, waving. He offered Howard a hand, and Howard turned to offer Sarah his. She tried to ignore the flashbulbs as Tony guided them to the door.
Howard patted her hand, "Stay with me, Sarah, and you'll be fine. I've been to a few of these and they're all pretty much the same."
"So what do we do first?"
"We get inside and get to the cloakroom. Then we dodge reporters while we get something to eat and Dad gets waylaid at least three times." She was surprised by how accurate his prediction was. They settled at a table while they waited for Tony to finish his interview, the reporter having cornered him while he was selecting shrimp.
Surveying the room, Sarah recognised many of the faces around her from television and magazines. Actors and actresses, politicians, heiresses, and even a few famous scientists mingled around tables, chatting while nibbling on finger sandwiches and shrimp cocktail. The room was a rainbow of silks and tulle punctuated by sharp black suits and the occasional brave soul wearing white.
About an hour into the event, Elon Musk himself unveiled the new car, with applause for Tony and the arc reactor. Then the party really began, the press kicked out and the doors closed for music, dancing, and a freely flowing open bar. Howard asked Sarah to dance. He then dragged his father to their circle and, the next slow song, slipped back to their table as Tony asked Sarah for a dance. She admitted to being a terrible dancer, but he reassured her.
"Just follow my lead. You'll be fine."
"But I'm a crappy follow."
"Miley is singing Poison. There's nothing complicated about it. Don't look at your feet, they're still down there. One, two. One, two." She laughed nervously, "You're getting it. Just keep going."
A few songs later, Tony suggested they turn in early, "I'm kind of sick of telling the wine guy that no, this table isn't taking any."
"Sounds fine by me- this has been an amazing evening. Let's end on a high note."
"Same here, Dad."
On their way out, Sarah sighed, smoothing the front of her gown, "I hope I get to wear this again someday. If not, I was a princess tonight." She smiled. Howard and Tony both offered her their arm, "And I get to be escorted out by the two delightful Stark gentlemen. I feel like the luckiest girl at the ball."
Howard grinned, "That's because you are."
Tony glanced at his watch, "Say, are either of you up for shawarma? There's this little place not far from here that's open late."
"Never had it," Sarah said.
"There's no time like now. Come on, let's go be fancy at the shawarma place."
After their dinner, they returned to the hotel, full and happy, and crashed, their formal clothes tossed over chairs. There would be time to pack the right way in the morning.
On the drive back to the Stark home, Tony's curiosity got the best of him, "So...since we don't have any place we really have to be today, how about we swing the old Volvo by your place? Meet Jack and Sally?"
"No...let's not. I haven't cleaned in ages and you'd be ashamed to call me your housekeeper."
"Eh, I don't mind a little mess."
"And it's not exactly in the greatest neighbourhood. I mean, really not the greatest."
"You're making excuses."
"Yep, I am."
"So why can't we drive by in broad daylight? If your neighbourhood is so dangerous we can't even drive through, I'll move you out right now."
Sarah smiled, "You're sweet, but no, you don't need to do that."
"You haven't given me a good reason."
"You told me not to tell anyone who I worked for."
"And what does that have to do with you not showing us where you live?"
"Well, for one, you being there would draw a lot of attention. And second...I didn't tell anyone. And moving out to someplace else would pretty much mean I'd have to tell someone where I worked."
It took a few moments for Tony to process what she'd said, "Wait. You still live in a dangerous neighbourhood because why?"
"Because filling out an application for a better apartment would require telling someone where I worked. They check these things out to make sure you can pay the rent. You don't just get to write down that you're a housekeeper and expect them to believe you."
He stared at her some more, "I'm not sure whether to be incredibly flattered that you take our contract that seriously or a bit disturbed."
"I've never been shot at where I live."
"But are other people shot there?"
"Yeah. There's a lot of drug activity. People do what they have to in order to survive. It's just life."
"If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Someplace quiet. The little cabin in the mountains where I can watch the sunsets and sunrises. Where I can have a big garden, chickens, and couple of goats. I want a huge stone fireplace and a woodpile in a lean-to next to the house, and maybe a little red barn for the animals and their feed. And a root cellar. And I want a woodshop with hand-turned tools and the beautiful woods my grandfather salvaged from pianos headed to the rubbish."
"Sarah, look for that little cabin. I'll make it happen."
"I know where it is. It's in West Virginia and my grandmother lives there. But let's just get you home to your place so I can be back here tonight to feed my rats."