The Last Phone Booth in Manhattan(55)
“See? Better, right?” he said.
“Definitely better,” I admitted. “Sounds like this ain’t your first rodeo.”
“Far from it. But all for a good cause, right? One of these days, someone’s gonna realize they’d do even better if they’d organize a fundraiser where we just had to send in a check and could stay home in our pj’s. But until they figure that out, I’m stuck wearing the monkey suit every Thursday night of the social season,” he said, gesturing to his tailored tux.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you wear the monkey suit well.” I reached out to touch the arm of his jacket, the gesture almost involuntary. The fabric was sumptuous under my fingertips.
Was I flirting with this handsome stranger? No, I was just making polite small talk at a cocktail party, something you apparently do with handsome or not-so-handsome strangers when you’ve basically been stood up by your boyfriend at his charity event, mooed during the most important audition of your life . . . and had three glasses of champagne. I tried to catch the eye of a passing server to see what kinds of hors d’oeuvres he was carrying in an effort to soak up some of the alcohol, but each tray turned up empty as they headed past me back to the kitchen.
Before I knew it, the stranger extended his glass to me. “Can you hold on to this for just a minute. . . ,” he said, dragging out the last word as he gestured for me to fill in my name.
“Avery,” I answered, reaching out to grab the flute he was handing me.
“Nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Adam. Promise you’ll stay right here. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Moments later, he returned balancing plates piled high with all sorts of appetizers and snacks. I wanted to reach out to help him, but with the flutes still in my grasp, I was pretty useless.
“There’s an open table over there. Should we claim it?” he asked. “It might be a little tricky for us to try to eat with our hands full.”
I followed him to the small high-top where he set the hors d’oeuvres, and I did the same with our drinks.
“I realized I forgot to give you the other half of my fundraiser survival guide,” Adam said, tapping the flute. “While you don’t want the well to run dry, you also need to make sure to wrangle up some food during the cocktail portion. Once the presentations and speeches start, it’s a good hour-plus before they even serve the salad. And too much champagne on an empty stomach can lead to one of two things.”
“Oh yeah? What are those?” I asked, leaning in closer and slurping up an oyster.
“Either spending your whole evening praying to the porcelain god in some very posh hotel bathroom or spending all of your money at the event’s silent auction. Trust me, I know this from experience. Though this time, I have my eye on a bike tour through Provence for two,” he offered with a charming smile, a flash of one deep-set dimple catching my eye.
“Provence. Sounds nice. So are you like a professional fundraiser attendee or something? Or do you have an actual job you report to?” I asked playfully.
He chuckled and took a sip from his flute before responding. “It’s a bit complicated to explain, but to put it simply, I’m in market research.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Not really. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a struggling actress, and it just so happens I blew the biggest audition of my life today.” The horror of me swinging through the air like the pendulum of a great cow clock repeated over and over again in my brain, and I winced at the memory.
“I’m sorry to hear that. With a face like yours and such sparkling conversation, it seems a shame for you to have to struggle as an actress when there’s probably a million things that you could do and do well.”
My heart sank as I realized this stranger had been more consoling than my boyfriend of almost five years. “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”
Just then I heard my name called from over my shoulder. “Avery, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. I have a bunch of people I want you to meet,” Gabe said as he approached us at the table.
Upon seeing Adam, Gabe’s face broke into a wide smile and he extended his hand. “Adam, so glad you could make it. And thank you again for your generous, generous donation.”
“Gabriel, man, good to see you. Of course, it’s a great cause,” Adam replied.
“Avery, this is Adam Daulton. He’s one of our biggest donors.”
“I know. We met just a few minutes ago,” I said, looking down at the mess of small plates on our table between us and hoping Gabe wasn’t reading too much into our encounter. But, it seemed he was so focused on the event, he didn’t pay attention to anything aside from the fact I was schmoozing with a big-time donor.
Just as I was about to continue the conversation, we were swiftly interrupted by a large redheaded man with a clean-cut beard who was sporting a lanyard around his neck (in stark contrast to his pristine suit) with the words EVENT STAFF typed in bold font. “Hey, Gabe, the teleprompter’s acting up. Do you know where Simon’s at?”
“God forbid we don’t have a teleprompter and someone has to speak from the heart, right?” Gabe said with a huff. “Ave, can you do me a favor and tell Marcie over in the auxiliary she can open up the silent auction while I go and look for Simon? We may need to delay the speeches until I can get this thing up and running.” Gabe clapped Adam on the shoulder before hurrying to follow the tall redhead through the crowd.