It was you (Completed)

Chapter 7

                I know I have to quickly shake off my stupor from what happened outside. I shouldn't be so surprised about his need to take control, he was intense when we were younger and seems even more so now. That wasn't what had shocked me though. It's silly, but for a second there I thought he was going to kiss me. And then, when he told me to call him Owen, I just...sigh.

                Giving myself a sharp mental shake, I stand up straight and put a bright smile on my face. We can discuss this further tonight, after we get out of here. There is so much to talk about. I understand his need to know more about what we are doing, but I'm anxious to catch up too. I want to find out how everyone has been. I may have only been in love with one, but that night I lost nine people that I cared more about than anyone else before or since. My true family.

                We walk through a foyer and around a table in the center filled with a floral arrangement. The marble floor gleams under the light from the crystal chandelier overhead. A reception desk stands off to our left, but it's unmanned. Instead, an attendant is next to the double doors across from where we had entered and he directs us into a large room. It appears that this was usually the dining room for the regular club members, but right now most of the tables had been cleared out. Running late, we appear to be the last to arrive, as there are about 50 guests mingling around the room, several uniformed attendants walking amongst them carrying trays with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. One such fellow hurries over to us, and Mr. Blackbourne, uh, Owen hands a flute of champagne to me before taking one for himself.

                I smile up into his face, saying "thank you, darling. I'm so excited about this party!"

                "You're most welcome, my dear. Shall we?" He draws me forward into the crowd, stopping to exchange a couple pleasantries. It seems that he is a member of the club, not surprising considering what he had told me that day we had spied on Hendricks and the superintendent. He introduces me as his date to a few of his acquaintances while I continue to sip on my champagne. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that he is far better suited for this than Brandon would've been. Owen, with his polished formalities, fits in here in a way that the broody motorcycle mechanic never could.

                Currently he is chatting with an elderly gentleman that has a pot belly and a comb over but is dressed in an expensive tux. "Mr. Mitchell, I'd like you to meet Miss Casey Dublin. Casey, this is Mr. George Mitchell, an old friend of my mother's." I can't help but clench tighter onto the arm I'm hanging onto. A friend of his mom's? I know that's a sensitive subject for him, although I don't know the reason why.

                "I've told you a hundred times to call me George, none of this Mr. Mitchell nonsense!" George gives me a huge smile and holds his large hand out to me. Latching onto my fingers, he draws me forward out of Owen's grasp and gives my hand a kiss before looking me up and down with twinkling eyes. "Well, well, Owen! Where have you been hiding this beauty!" he exclaims in a booming voice. I let out a quick giggle before ducking my head shyly. He releases my hand and I take the opportunity to drain my glass and place it on the tray of the passing attendant.

                Owen lets out a brief chuckle behind me. "Casey is joining me this weekend from Florida. I met her last week on a trip I took and she was gracious enough to accompany me here."

                "Well if she's willing to attend a stuffy affair like this one, she's definitely a keeper," comes a voice from nearby. Turning to my right, I see a gentleman had come up from behind.

                "Jimmy! I was wondering if you'd be joining us this evening. Have you met Owen Blackbourne? And this charming young lady accompanying him is Casey," George says while extending a hand to the newcomer. He shakes hands with George then turns to do the same with Owen before reaching for mine. He leans forward to place a kiss on my hand, but, unlike George, his lips linger on my skin as he looks up at me from under long black lashes.