13 - Debut

Thanks to men being too scared to question women about their bodies, Meg had avoided getting intimate with Tyler for two weekends. When she shared his bed, Blue didn't sleep between them like the chaperone that only Tyler needed. Twice she woke to an erection poking her in the ass. Shouldn't that make her melt inside?

As she fixed her lipstick in the mirror, she knew her time had run out. After the Whitby Foundation gala, Tyler would expect her to fall into his arms. Anyone important in Boston attended the annual event. The Hathorne and Rice names were as prestigious as Alden, Whitby, Sinclair, Kane, Calhoun. The list went on.

It was supposed to be her debut with Tyler, except to her nothing had changed. They had attended functions together for years as a platonic couple. The ball of tension in her belly bounced around as she thought of ending the evening with Tyler.

Unfortunately, her desire for him hadn't grown. One night, she tried burrowing into his neck and enjoying his musky scent, but Tyler told her he was also sorry it wasn't the right night. Then she felt awful, because she wasn't sorry and had lied about her period still flowing.

The doorbell chime reached her room. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. She used to love being Tyler's date, and she loved him too much to hurt him. Didn't she owe it to him to give intimacy a chance? Standing up, she pulled back her shoulders. No more excuses.

Tyler waited for her at the bottom of the staircase. It was easy to recognize the love in his eyes. "Meggy, you look amazing. Beautiful. No. Gorgeous."

She smiled. "Thanks, you look dashing yourself." The man could wear a tuxedo. Her mind instantly bounced to Cade, but she yelled, stop, to herself before wondering how he would look dressed in a crisp white shirt and black evening jacket.

As she slipped into the hire car, she reminded herself it was just like old times. Tyler sat beside her and reached for her hand. "I won't mess up your hair and makeup, but I want to."

She chuckled. "You are so sweet."

The line of cars in front of the hotel, not the Copley, crawled as elegant couples in evening wear stepped out. Meg felt antsy, she wanted to go inside and have some champagne.

"I'll have to greet some clients and my boss. You'll stay with me, please."

"You know investments bore me."

He squeezed her hand. "And it doesn't offend me. It's almost our turn."

Tyler held onto her arm as he led her inside to the over crowded ballroom. "Can we find the table?"

"Good idea. Then we'll get drinks."

Tyler greeted people, but Meg disliked socializing with Boston's upper echelon. Tyler was extroverted enough for both of them. He changed directions and steered her towards a crowd of people. "We should greet out hosts."

It took a while to move forward. An older woman smiled. "Aren't you Chickie's son? The lawyer?"

"No, I'm the younger one, Tyler."

Her son reached for Tyler's hand. "What's your business?"

"I'm a broker with Dudley & Tremont." It was a prestigious investment firm. "And this is Margaret Rice."

The woman smiled. "Of course, Brian and Shannon's daughter."

She smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitby, Mr. Whitby."

The son smiled. "My wife would pinch me if I didn't ask about your career."

She smiled. "I'm just an assistant editor with Beantown Magazine."

He smiled. "Nothing just about it. I love Beantown. The mafia article is fascinating. My friend, Gray, is a mystery novelist. He said it inspired him."

"Gray Hoffman? I love his novels."

Mrs. Whitby said, "He's here tonight."

Monty chuckled. "Look for a big guy, uncomfortable in his suit."

"Thank you. I will."

When Tyler pulled her away, he whispered, "They love you."

"I hate talking to strangers."

As they walked across the room, she picked a full flute off a tray, and sipped it. Over the glass, she spied her father surrounded by a crowd of important looking men. Tyler's brother sat at the table with his best friend, Harrison Alden. When Eli saw them he stood. "Meg, you look beautiful. I hear congrats are in order. Mom said it's not official yet, but what's taking you two so long."

She smiled. "I'm in no rush. We're not old like you." Eli was four years older than her and Tyler.

"Don't remind me." He scanned the room. "Maybe my special someone is here tonight." He smiled. "Aw, the one that got away."

"Who is she?" Meg looked towards a beautiful blonde with a large man who looked familiar.

"That's Doyle Kane with her husband Gray..."

"Hoffman?"

"That's him." Eli chuckled.

"I want to meet him." She bounced on her heels.

"That's easy. Come with me."

Meg left Tyler's side and followed Eli. She grabbed another flute off a tray on her way. Eli stopped behind the couple. "Fancy meeting you here."

The woman turned around as a smile filled her face. "Hey, DA." She looked at Meg. "You're a huge improvement. He's usually with Harrison."

Eli shook his head. "Meg is my brother's girl, but she's an avid reader."

Doyle laughed. "Gray, the DA wants you."

The author was intimidatingly large, but handsome. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Margaret Rice."

Eli added, "As in AG Rice."

Gray nodded. "Now I'm the one who is impressed."

She shrugged. "I'm just his daughter."

A voice behind her said, "She works for Beantown Magazine."

The author said, "I loved the mafia article."

She smiled. "It's a hit."

The group laughed, but she hadn't even intended the pun. Eli rescued her. "Come on, Meg. I'll escort you back to my brother."

"Urgh. That was so embarrassing."

Eli chuckled. "They loved you." He looked like he wanted to put his hand on her head and mess up her hair, like he did when she was a kid. If Tyler was her best friend, Eli was her older brother.

"What do you think of the mafia hype?"

Eli frowned. "In real life it's not glamorous or romantic. It's murder and exploitation."

She nodded. "I hated that article."

He winked. "It was well edited."

She laughed as they returned to the table. Tyler smiled. "Did you meet the author, sweetheart?"

She nodded. "Too bad he got the girl instead of the DA, here."

Harrison laughed. "He never had a chance. She was all about just being friends."

Meg's kind of woman, except she found a husband. Eli shrugged. "We talk at events like this. I smile at pictures of her cute kid."

Nope. Meg wasn't ready to birth a child. She frowned as Tyler smiled.

Eli laughed. "Ty wants a baby."

The younger brother shook his head. "No, not yet. First comes marriage."

She looked into her empty flute, first comes sex. Her thoughts disappeared, as Chickie and Arthur appeared. "Look at this handsome group. Meg, you look beautiful, dear. Although you would dazzle with the ring on your finger."

Tyler gritted his teeth. "Mom, I warned you."

"I know. Young people today don't rush towards marriage, you want to live together first."

"I think Tyler and Meg are smart," Eli added.

Arthur said, "By the time you find the right girl, you'll be too old to take it slow."

Eli put his hands up. "I'm going for a drink." His friend followed him.

Meg watched the other couples. How many were love matches? Which ones were best friends? Tyler stood. "Let's check out the silent auction."

She put her hand in his and let him pull her up. With his hand on her waist, he led her to the display of items available. Once again, she picked up another flute. The items were too expensive for Meg, but not Tyler who made suggestions. "How about a weekend in Saint Thomas or Aspen?"

"Let our parents and their friends spend their money."

"There's jewelry."

She shook her head. "Not my boring style."

"You're classier than anyone our age."

Not exactly a compliment, but she was comfortable blending in, except Cade saw her dressed like her mother. Obviously, Tyler did too. The music started, so they joined other couples on the dance floor. They had been dancing together for years, but Ty never held her closer. Again she pushed away thoughts of another man. She pleaded with the warm breath on her neck to start a fire. The brush of his lips didn't create the spark she desperately wanted. When Tyler lifted his head and looked in her eyes, she saw his passion. Being loved so completely felt comforting, but was it enough? If passion faded over time, she would end up in the negative. Challenging herself, she pressed her lips onto his. Initiating for the first time, she promised herself to keep trying.

When the kiss ended, he said, "Meggy, I love you. Tonight will be special."

She smiled. "Memorable." Which wasn't a lie.

Tyler always dated leggy, thin women who belonged on runways and glossy pages. Meg liked to eat, so she had curves. His dates probably thought a grape tomato was a splurge with their lettuce. Ice cream was her treat, but running kept her in shape. Feeling self-conscious caused her belly to tumble like clothes in a dryer.

When the song ended, she asked to sit down. Tyler led her off the dance floor and handed her a glass from a passing tray. Servers were never without trays of champagne or hot food. Meg didn't eat at events. She had nightmares about food stains on her gowns.

Tyler reached for a scallop wrapped in bacon and popped it in his mouth. She sipped her champagne, and he whispered, "I'll fix a snack at my place."

Her late lunch had worn off. She kept up the liquid diet with another glass. Meg giggled and put her hands on her warm cheeks.

"Meggy, how much champagne did you drink?"

She shrugged. "Who's counting?"

He frowned. "We should go."

As he led her across the room, Tyler tightened his arm around her waist. Were people laughing at her? She looked down at her feet and wondered if she could take off her heels. "That's how Cinderella lost the glass slipper."

Tyler chuckled at her. "Come on, Cinderella."

The car magically arrived, and Tyler piled in beside her. "What did you eat today?"

"Salad."

"You can't handle champagne on an empty stomach. You don't handle champagne well. Remember my father's fiftieth birthday?"

"That was awful."

They had stolen near empty bottles to drink. Meg had gotten sick at Tyler's house. Embarrassment couldn't begin to describe her mortification.

"Don't get sick tonight. We have plans."

Closing her eyes, she felt sick but not from the champagne. Then she remembered her resolve to generate sparks. Maybe the champagne was the lighter fluid she needed.

Once at Tyler's house, Blue greeted her as she slipped out of her shoes. "Not glass."

Tyler shook his head and laughed. "I'll be right back. Blue needs to go out."

Meg slipped off her dress and pulled on Tyler's tee shirt. It smelled nice like him. Comforting. She yawned. Feeling cold, she slipped under the covers and yawned again.

Lot's of surprises. Who remembers Eli?

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