Here's the next chapter of the masquerade ball. Enjoy!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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Boris watched Annabelle climb the stairs, her hips swaying, the crystals on the back of her skirt twinkling under the lights of the chandelier. Boris took a deep breath, and paused to reconsider her proposition. He was just about to go after her, when his cell phone rang, again!
"Verdammt noch mal in die Hölle?!" Boris answered the phone, and began speaking in rapid, angry German to the unfortunate bank manager at the other end of the phone. Just as he was about to end the call, he glanced up, and saw Annabelle, leaning on the railing, looking down at him. Her anger and disappointment were obvious.
He ended the call, and started climbing the stairs as rapidly as he could, but Annabelle had disappeared. He swore again in frustration. He waded into the crowd in the ballroom, searching for Annabelle, but his progress was slow, and Annabelle was nowhere to be found.
Finally, he spotted his grandmother, and made his way to her. She was resplendent in gold satin, holding a gold sequined mask to her face. She was talking to Hank, who was wearing a suit, and what appeared to be a 'Lone Ranger' mask.
"Boris! How HANDSOME you look this evening! And so like your father. . .and your grandfather!"
Boris exchanged pleasantries with Hank and his grandmother, then his impatience got the better of him. "Olga, have you seen Annabelle? I seem to have. . .lost her. . .in this crowd?!"
Hank was watching Boris closely. "Boris, are you ok?"
"Yes, Hank, I am fine! I just cannot find my. . .I just cannot find Annabelle?!"
Boris excused himself, and made his way out of the ballroom. He was getting angrier, and more anxious, by the minute. Annabelle couldn't have just disappeared into thin air, but this was a BIG house, as Annabelle liked to remind him. But, if anyone knew where Annabelle was, it would be Dieter!
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And he was right. Dieter had seen her, on her way to her rooms, ostensibly to change her shoes, and carrying a bottle of champagne.
Boris took the stairs, two at a time. He entered his suite, and then walked to the connecting door. He saw Annabelle's high-heeled sandals on the floor, and her mask on the bed. Annabelle was standing at the French doors, looking out into the night and sipping another glass of champagne. Annabelle could see his reflection in the panes of glass; she knew he was there, but she didn't turn around.
"Annabelle?!"
"I've always hated New Year's Eve!"
"Annabelle, you are blowing this all out of proportion! It was two BRIEF phone calls!"
"You made a promise, Boris! You could have turned your phone off!"
"Yes, I suppose I could have. . .but I did not! Annabelle. . .you are acting childish! We have a ballroom full of guests downstairs, and YOU are as much responsible for them as I am! Now, I am sorry if my taking those phone calls offended your sensibilities. You can chastise me. . .LATER! Right now, bitte, put your shoes back on, put your mask back on, and come back downstairs with me!"
"Well! That was quite a pithy little speech! You didn't seriously think that it would mollify me. . .did you?!"
Boris walked over to Annabelle and stood behind her, neither one of them saying anything. Annabelle continued to sip her champagne.
"Annabelle, bitte, turn around, and TALK to me?!"
Annabelle took another sip of champagne, then slowly turned around to face Boris. "All right, Boris, whatever do you want to talk about?!"
Boris saw the pain in Annabelle's eyes, and felt a stab of guilt, knowing that he had caused it. But stronger than the guilt, was the combination of anger and desire that was pumping through his veins. Annabelle, it seemed, was up to her old tricks. She could be contrary, and provoking him was one of her favorite sports! He was sorely tempted, torn between turning her over his knee, and tumbling her onto the bed?!
Boris reached out, gently taking her face in his hands. "Annabelle, I truly am sorry! But I honestly do not understand. . .why. . . you are. . .SO upset?!" He was kissing her forehead. . .and then her lips. . .again. . .and again. . .and again!
Boris could see the pulse in her throat starting to throb. His lips quirked into one of his half smiles. Anger. . .and desire?!
She cleared her throat, and pushed him away. When he was that close, he seemed to use up all the oxygen in the room, and she was definitely having trouble breathing! "It was something that your grandmother said."
"Damn her?! Annabelle, she will fill your head with stories that are tainted with her bitterness. What has she told you this time?!"
"Just that. . .it was always going to be like this?!"
Boris shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head. "It was always going to be like WHAT, Annabelle?! I do not understand?!"
"Boris, you're like your father, and your grandfather. You're ALWAYS going to put the bank before me! Did you know, your grandfather wasn't there when your father was born?! He was at the bank, working!"
"No. . .I. . .no. . .I did not know that! But, Annabelle, I am NOT my father, OR my grandfather! I DO NOT always put the bank first; you know that!" Boris glanced at his watch. "Annabelle, bitte, it is almost midnight! What do you want me to do to. . .allay. . .your fears?!"
"I don't know, Boris?!"
"Will this help?!" Boris took out his cell phone, and handed it to Annabelle.
Annabelle looked from Boris, to the phone, and back to Boris. "What am I supposed to do with this?!"
"Whatever. . .will put me back in your good graces, Prinzessin?!"
"You're serious?!"
"Absolut!"
Annabelle looked at Boris for a moment for a moment longer, then sat down on the bed, bending over to slip her shoes on. She stood up, slipped her mask back on, then clicked the cell phone off and tossed it on the bed. "OK, you and I will go back to the party; the cell phone stays here!"
"Done!"
"Done?"
"DONE!" Boris extended his arm to Annabelle. "Now, let us go back to the ball! It is almost midnight, and I will want my kiss!"
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Annabelle and Boris sneaked back into the ballroom just before midnight. Someone had started the countdown, and everyone was joining in. "10. . .9. . .8. . .7. . .6. . ." Boris pulled Annabelle closer. "5. . .4. . .3. . .2. . .1!"
The band started to play 'Auld Lang Syne', and people joined in, singing the traditional song. People were clapping and cheering, hugging and kissing. Confetti and streamers were flying through the air.
Boris pulled Annabelle's mask off, and kissed her, hard! "Glückliches neues Jahr, Prinzessin! Happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year, Boris!"
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January 1, 2011, 2:00 a.m. Boris and Annabelle were sitting in the empty dining room, eating leftovers as the staff cleared the buffet.
"Annabelle, when may I have my phone back, bitte?!"
"Tomorrow!"
"But, Prinzessin, it IS tomorrow?!"
"Nooooo. . .it's TODAY! Today is January 1st. You may have your phone back tomorrow, January 2nd."
"Annabelle, you cannot be serious?!"
"You wanted back in my good graces, Boris. This is your penance!"
"Annabelle. . .I. . .you. . .?!"
"I have rendered you speechless; I LOVE it! An auspicious start for 2011! Tomorrow, Boris, and not a minute before! I MAY, however, have a few ideas, to help you pass the time?!"
"Hmph?! Do ANY of those ideas involve you ending up in my bed?!"
"They might?! Would you like me to wear my mask?!"
"I was HOPING you would!"
"Ha?! Well, then, let's go upstairs, and you can start doing your penance! And, Boris?!"
"Ja?"
"Bring the champagne!"
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As always, feedback is very much appreciated!