“But I hope you got what you needed? And now it seems you two have become friends...or maybe something more?”
“Just granting her a deeper look into the world of the Palmer family,” I explained quickly.
“Don’t write anything too scandalous about us, dear.”
Hazel smiled and nodded politely as he quickly scurried off to mingle with more guests too.
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t talk to any of your family very often?” she murmured to me.
“Can you blame me? Look at them. None of them can bore themselves with one person longer than a second or two,” I quipped. “Always on to the next bigger and better thing. Now. First order of business with all of that out of the way...Drinks. Stat.”
“Yes, please,” she nodded enthusiastically.
We mingled a little around the room, downing a few cocktails as we went. Before long, we crossed paths with the busiest person in the room...my sister, Ann.
Ann barely masked her disapproval of Hazel as she looked her up and down. “And what is it that you do, Hazel?”
Taking my cue from earlier, she quickly answered, “I’m a writer, doing a piece on the annual display at Palmer.”
“You do know this isn’t a part of the display, don’t you?” my sister teased, somewhat rudely.
“Where’s Joey?” I asked her, scanning the room for her husband. “I knew you couldn’t be bothered to bring the kids tonight, but surely you didn’t leave him behind too.”
“He’s working,” she told me, turning to sip her drink. This was obviously a sore spot for her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to meet him or your children,” Hazel offered, darting her eyes between us. The tension between us was far from lost on her.
“Hey, listen to that. One of my favorite songs,” I announced - making it up, of course. I was desperate to get away from Ann. I turned to Hazel and lifted her hand. “Shall we?”
“I’m not very well versed in ballroom dancing,” she admitted.
“Just follow my lead. Though I guess that’ll probably be a challenge for you.”
“You’ve been following my lead all this time,” she laughed. “I can let you take a turn, just for tonight.”
We danced and spun around the room, with most of the other guests stepping aside to see one of the youngest, hottest pairs in attendance twirl around before their eyes. Hazel somehow looked even more gorgeous as she glided along to the strings and choir.
Things got more frantic when our dance was over, now that Hazel had caught the eye of every other bachelor in the room. They were quickly all clamoring to meet her, and the women were all dying to know who had managed to secure an invite and dance with me.
Hazel was swept off by an old friend of mine from college who insisted they knew some other blogging entrepreneur that she just had to meet. She seemed oblivious to the fact that this was just a pick-up leading to another attempted pick-up and followed along without question.
Without her by my side, the party suddenly looked sad and less grand. I decided to give her a moment to mingle and stepped out onto the balcony to get some air.
I was surprised when she joined me a few moments later. “There you are. You abandoned me in there. Are those guys your friends?”
“Sorry. And no, not really.”
“Good. Because they’re obnoxious and pretentious as hell,” she told me, leaning next to me on the stone railing. “It’s almost as beautiful out here as it is in there. Did you grow up here?”
“Sure did. My friends in grade school used to call it Buckingham Palace as a joke.”
“It is pretty big. I feel embarrassed for showing you my parents’ tiny little house now.”
“Don’t be,” I assured her. “But you see...this is all there is to the Palmer holiday traditions, and it’s perfectly wonderful, huh? No deep seated resentment towards Christmas. Just a general disdain for it that I came up with all on my own.”
“This is all there is to your holiday traditions?” she asked, looking concerned. She turned and looked inside at all the glittering, dancing guests. “Don’t get me wrong. This is all...so…”
“Over the top?”
“Lavish and extravagant,” she corrected me. “But...it doesn’t seem quite right for a family’s Christmas. Don’t you and your mom and dad and sister get together for a Christmas Eve dinner or anything? Something smaller and...more…”
“Normal? No,” I answered.
“What about Christmas morning?”
I simply shook my head.
“I think I understand a lot now,” she said softly. “I’m