The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,128 views)

Arthur watched her as she finally listened to him and went to the back of his closet. Her comment that the lobsters were tacky made him frown and fold his arms tighter. He didn’t care if it was tacky! God, he didn’t care if it was tacky! He just – fuck, whatever. There was a reason he wasn’t a fashion designer and that was because he thought it was stupid! He never noticed anything anyone was wearing – unless it particularly sparkled or showed off the wearer’s body in a very specific way – and he didn’t care what he was wearing! Except for those times he went to Chardonnay’s apartment, only because during those times, he was scared of being rejected. But now he didn’t fear rejection – and instead, he was apparently going to be dressed up like a damn Ken doll. His eyes followed her face as she appraised his wardrobe, wondering when she was going to make a decision and finally get her manicured nails away from his clothes.

He scoffed when she threw a shirt and pants at him and made a noise of indignation.

”I wouldn’t have to iron them if you didn’t just throw them at me! God damn it!” He snapped, his brow twitching at her comment about his pants. When she said his hair looked fine he rolled his eyes and took the clothing with him a she went to Susan and Adelaide’s bedroom, opened the closet there, and disregarded the dresses and skirts hanging up there – spares for when either of them stayed over. Instead he just pulled out the iron board and muttered to himself. If she hadn’t clumped this up and wrinkled it, he could have worn it straight...!

Once his shirt was done he got undressed, starting with his belt and shirt. He slipped the new shirt on, did up the buttons, and stared at himself in the mirror with a frown on his face. The silver of his earrings and the blue of his eyes stood out as he adjusted his collar. He then removed his pants and slipped on the slacks, and left the spare bedroom after closing the closet up. He entered his room again, paying no mind to where Chardonnay was, and sat back on his bed as he laced up his shoes. He opened his drawers and pulled out a plain black belt, looping it through the rungs. He clamped it shut and then grabbed his cologne and sprayed some on himself – then finally turned around to look at Chardonnay with raised eyebrows.

”Is this fancy enough for you, Princess?” He asked, now clothed in the dark blue shirt and slacks she’d picked out. His disregarded plaid shirt and jeans lied in the laundry hamper to the side. ”How far away is this place?”

Arthur looked at Chardonnay as she grabbed her little clutch bag, and then looked down her bare legs again, then back up to her chest and then eyes. She really – still – looked overdressed, and it made him feel underdressed even in this attire. He wondered if everyone at this thing would look like she did. He hoped not. This place should be full of cooks and people eating not people looking like they were going to a photoshoot!

”Shut up. I don’t feel any different, because they’re just clothes. I never understood the point of fashion anyway,” He snorted. When she said it was going to be about 45 minutes he exhaled. So 45 minutes in the car with Chardonnay? Speaking of – what car did she drive? He wondered if she had the same car he remembered her having when he picked her up years ago – probably not since the car had broken down – so what would he be sitting in? He didn’t doubt whatever it was would be fancy – way too fancy.

”Yeah, yeah. I’m ready.” He said, heading into the kitchen where a small over-the-shoulder bag rested. Inside of it he had a few things, some sunscreen in case he needed it, a sweater folded up, and... a few Tupperware boxes. What? If he was going to an all-you-can-eat buffet, he was going to sneak some food out. It was a trick Susan taught him when he was young.

He could recall one time when he was no older than 11, and Susan took him to a buffet at a cute little local. They were friendly people and Susan knew after the event was over the food would be thrown away, so she packed her purse and Arthur’s backpack full of Tupperware. They went and ate, until they were full, and then kept grabbing more and more food to fit into the Tupperware. They wound up going home with 5 things full of food and had leftovers for the next week. It was a way to save money and make the most out of the event! As long as they had paid the initial price of admission, she reasoned, it wasn’t stealing! So that was the typical logic Arthur had when he went to a buffet of any kind.

He swung the bag over his shoulder and headed towards the door, ignoring the rustle of the things inside of his bag. ”Let’s get going then, Princess.”

Again he shook his head, thinking it was totally crap that she continued to imply fashion was so important. If it was so fucking important, then why hadn’t she mentioned it before? He narrowed his eyes over at her as she commented on his bag, too, and he grabbed his wallet and keys off of the counter. He slipped those into the pockets of his slacks, heading out of his apartment after Chardonnay.

”No. I just have crap in here in case I need it.” He said, descending the five flights of stairs to get to the ground floor rather than take the elevator down. He locked the door behind him and glanced once at his apartment complex – which stood tall and proud with the sun somewhere behind it – and headed towards the parking lot.

Before he followed Chardonnay to her car he went to his own Jeep and unlocked it, rustling in the glove box. He bypassed his package of cigarettes – despite the urge to bring it he knew Chardonnay would kill him – and grabbed a pair of sunglasses. He made sure they weren’t dusty before he slipped them on to cover his eyes and slammed the door shut behind him. He caught up to Chardonnay just as she unlocked her car, which was bright red and not the one he recognized. He rise his eyebrows and tipped the sunglasses down to look at the damn thing. It was so expensive looking. He felt his mouth open but before he could say anything Chardonnay spat her quip and he glared over at her.

”This car is as snooty looking as you are,” He snapped, replacing his sunglasses to cover his eyes and the top of his face. If he was going to be seen in this expensive ass car, he was hiding his face. It was nice, sure, but holy fuck was it expensive looking. ”If you kick me out of the car you’ll have to explain to my sister the nature of our previous relationship and you know you won’t do that. And – Adelaide was in this car?! The fuck?!”

He groaned and slowly – reluctantly – he slipped into the passenger seat, tossing his bag on the floor beside his leg. He glanced at the controls and the shiny lever that looked like it’d never been touched. ”I never understood the point of fancy cars. Why the fuck would I talk about it? I’m not a gold digger like my sister and niece are, so I don’t want to tell anyone.”

He glanced over at Chardonnay, feeling his eyebrow twitch again. He never in his entire life imagined he’d be here, in a car this expensive, sitting beside Chardonnay and allowing her to drive him somewhere. Still... it was a very nice car. The seats were comfortable, the windows were tinted, and it smelled nice, whatever air freshener Chardonnay used, smelled nice. He didn’t want to admit that, though. He just re-adjusted the shades covering his eyes and glanced back out the window.

Arthur rolled his eyes when Chardonnay said the car matched her. Damn right it did. It was just as fancy as she was. It was nothing he’d ever thought he’d want, or be comfortable inside, just like he was with her. God, what choices had he made in his life to end up here, at this exact moment, sitting beside Chardonnay in her car. He glanced at the stick-shift vehicle and looked around the car – so useless, it only had two seats – and then he looked over at Chardonnay from behind his sunglasses. She was obviously irritated with him but when wasn’t she? He snorted at her retorts and her explanations of the vehicle, resting his elbow on the windowsill as he rolled it down to get a breeze in. If she really had a problem with it she was the driver, she could roll it back up again. When she said he’d probably rather they ride in his Jeep, he snorted. As if he wouldn’t want to be in his own car right now? He didn’t know how Chardonnay drove. Was she a reckless driver? Likely not, given that she cared so much about herself and her cars, but he didn’t know. She always got here safe, but did she fly down the highway? He wasn’t a fan of riding in cars – he liked to be the one in control of the vehicle because he didn’t know if he could trust many other people with his life in their hands.

Finally, they left, and Arthur watched as his apartment disappeared in the rearview mirror. He could feel the attention of curious onlookers, and even though his face was obscured by the sunglasses, he eventually rolled up the window himself in irritation. He didn’t want to be stared at, judged, for something he had no control of. In a way it was the reverse of when he was a child. This time, people thought he was some rich guy cruising with his equally rich girlfriend or something. He didn’t really like the thought.

Arthur listened to the radio in silence – not having anything to say to Chardonnay and apparently she had nothing to say to him, either. He was glad he’d brought sunglasses though, because it made it easy to disguise the few glances he shot in Chardonnay’s direction. He wondered how the hell she was comfortable in that dress, watching the way it shifted as she adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and navigated the highway with practiced ease. Sometimes he forgot that she drove down here just as frequently as he did.

He stole the occasional glance at her but mostly focused on the window, lost in his own thoughts about the day. Now that he was here – actually here – he felt a sense of dread take over. Was he going to be okay? Was everyone at this event going to be old and rich, or young and rich, or hot and rich? God, he hoped not. He didn’t want to be intimidated. He tried to distract himself with the music, but it didn’t really work, especially not when all the pop songs that played were about sex or romance and trying to get lost in the lyrics had his mind wandering all over the place.

Finally, they arrived in the city, and Arthur came back to life. He slowly sat up and allowed his eyes to take in the big buildings and the fancy houses. He swallowed a lump in his throat as Chardonnay pulled up into a gorgeous driveway decorated with a fountain and grass as green as a vineyard. He could smell food – a blend of delicious smelling flavors that almost assaulted his windpipe. When they pulled up in front of the valet, he looked over at Chardonnay with raised brows, surprised she was letting someone else park her car. When she got out he followed suit, and fell into step beside her. He could hear the murmured conversations of chefs and patrons, but to his brain, he felt like they were all about him. He felt eyes on his back – he was a stranger, arriving with one of the most non-strangers at the event. He needed to relax. They had their story – they were both competent and he knew he could act. This would be fine. It wasn’t even that difficult a story to tell.

When someone seemed to recognize Chardonnay, Arthur hung back slightly, removing the sunglasses from his eyes and instead putting them into the backpack he had – which he had indeed brought and intended to take inside. He half-listened to the conversation, coming back in when he heard mention of her father and noticing a certain tenseness to her tone. Her smile didn’t look as fluid as it usually did, but then, he was used to seeing her genuine smiles. It didn’t seem like this Richard guy noticed. He forced himself to look away from Richard, and as if on cue, he let a smile stretch across his face and stuck his hand back out. God, this guy was probably judging the fuck out of him right now. But Arthur forced himself not to care. He just had to get through this bullshit and eat food. He noticed Chardonnay cringe and almost snapped out of their story until he looked back over at Richard.

”Nice to meet you, I’m Arthur Summers. I met Chardonnay and her parents through my boss a few years ago.” He said. ”When Chardonnay invited me to this event I was excited to finally come and see what all the fuss was about.”

He’d only known about the event for a day, maybe, but he had to play up like he was excited to go. He looked over the venue – so fucking over the top, he thought – but he feigned like he was impressed. ”The venue’s gorgeous. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

Arthur nodded along to Richard’s inquiry about whether he was a foodie – which was total bull – but it seemed to make Richard happy. The guy looked proud of the event and Arthur didn’t doubt that there wasn’t a lot of work put into it – he just thought it was too damn expensive. He wondered if at the end of this event the leftover food was donated but he doubted it – he expected it was thrown out or given to the pigs, as this was an invite-only event. The thought was enough to make his blood boil, and he was glad that Richard seemed to be distracted by another duo and by Chardonnay’s words.

He glanced over at her, noticing that her forced smile seemed to be appeased. He followed her into the throng of people, his eyes scanning the other patrons. Most of them were dressed semi-formally, or formally, though no one could hold a candle to Chardonnay. He almost scoffed at the thought and looked back over at her, his head having a slight tilt upwards due to her heels. It was odd, he’d never really walked beside her like this before – it was suddenly very notable to him that she looked taller than him right now. He tried to shake the thought off. It didn’t matter – and it really didn’t – the fact just struck him. Would people look at them and think that they were dating? He didn’t know, but he did notice a few people glance in their direction and smile. Mostly it was geared towards Chardonnay, but he saw a few people who glanced in his direction and smiled.

All of the women here were gorgeous with done up faces and nice dresses, and all the men he saw were equally as attractive. He felt like he probably shouldn’t be here, especially when most people only glanced at him for a second before they looked to Chardonnay and then probably tried to picture who he was. No doubt people assumed he was her boyfriend. But, fortunately, they were stopped by no one.

He glanced over at Chardonnay when she spoke. He snorted when she said Richard kissed her father’s ass the most.

”I could tell. He mentioned your father in pretty much every sentence he said,” He wondered if Richard would tell her father about an Arthur Summers, a friend of Chardonnay’s. Shit. He should have just given a fake name. Crap. He didn’t think of that, but if Chardonnay wasn’t bitching about it, then, it couldn’t be too bad, right? When she asked if he wanted to go anywhere, Arthur shrugged, and looked around the entire venue, feeling kind of lost as he looked at how vast it was. In the distance he could see the building where the after party would be held in – or so he assumed – and then he looked at all the stations. The fact that there was no order was even more intimidating.

The crowd was expanding and Arthur was about to just let Chardonnay pick where they went when he caught sight of a booth not too far away that had a simmering pot of something. He meandered towards it, not noticing if Chardonnay was following him – she probably was, right – until he came to a stop in front of the pot. He glanced over at the chef behind the counter and suddenly felt lost again when the guy smiled at him but didn’t recognize him and he said an awkward hello before he grabbed a bowl and poured some of the beef stew into it, said thank you, and took a spoon to start eating it with. Suddenly he realized he forgot to ensure if Chardonnay was there and quickly turned to look for her. He wasn’t used to going to events without his loud sister, and he could always hear her, so he was used to wandering off and eventually finding her.

Arthur remained where he was, in front of the stew station, slightly lost but also not about to go screaming for Chardonnay. He wasn’t a child, after all, and though he’d lost his way getting here he’d find her again. Chardonnay stood out to him in several ways – usually he could pick her out in a crowd, and not just because she looked way overdressed all the time. She had a face he liked, and noticed quicker than other faces. Odd to think about.

While he was away from Chardonnay Arthur didn’t completely ignore the chef before him – he took a bite of the beef stew. It was delicious, and tasted sweeter than he expected it to taste – not necessarily in a bad way though. He told the chef that the food was delicious and asked for another bowl – which the man was happy to oblige him with. The chef was nice and had a few people behind him in the booth, a family, maybe? The chef had at one point asked him his name, and when Arthur said his name and shook his head when asked ”Arthur Peterson?”, it was clear he was still unrecognized. He could probably say he was here with Chardonnay but maybe it would be weird to just use her name?

He finished up the last of his stew and was handed the second bowl when he had a chance to glance around the area. He could see a crowd beginning to build, the noise level of the area rising. He took another few bites of his stew and spotted Chardonnay, wrapped up in conversation with an older couple he didn’t know. He waited for her to finish, not about to weasel in on her conversation, and when she finally came over and gave him an apologetic look he shrugged back. He’d been the one to wander off in the first place, after all, but he wasn’t about to appease Chardonnay by actually accepting blame. He’d never hear the end of it!

When the chef talked about the stew with Chardonnay it was clear the man had more passion that he had when he spoke to Arthur about it – not because the man bore him any ill will or her any special treatment – probably because she was a chef and could help him improve the recipe. When Chardonnay actually spoke to him, and asked him for his opinion, he was surprised she cared at all. He wasn’t a chef, or an expert like her in the culinary fields... he’d likely have nothing of intelligence to offer this chef.

”Oh, uh, I think it’s good. I like it sweet like it is,” He said, giving the chef a smile and a nod. The chef smiled back and thanked him for his words, turning then towards the next people at his booth. Then, as if nothing was wrong with it, Arthur swung his bag over his shoulder and opened it, pulling out a small Tupperware container to pour the second bowl of stew into.

Arthur was oblivious to Chardonnay’s anxieties over people seeing what he was doing – he didn’t want people to stare at him but he didn’t see anything wrong with this. Once he was done and had the Tupperware situated, he glanced at Chardonnay curiously. She was awfully close – closer then she was before – but he tried not to think about that so much right now. He wondered what station she’d go to next – there was a booth not too far away run by a short girl that had piping hot chicken just waiting to be claimed by people. He wanted to go there and after he put his Tupperware in his bag, he moved to head over.

He was, however, stopped by Chardonnay’s hand on his arm when she pulled him away. He followed her, with furrowed brows, and smiled again at the chef who smiled in his direction oblivious to his taking the soup and putting it into a Tupperware container.

As she dragged him through the crowd they passed different people, all laughing with various food in their hands, all nodding at one another and exchanging recipes. He looked curiously around the area and then at Chardonnay, who was still smiling. Weird... she didn’t look angry. But he could tell by the tenseness with which she held him that she was. And when she turned towards him and spoke, he could see that spark of anger in her eyes, the spark that made his own eyes narrow in confusion.

”It’s all you can eat here. Why wouldn’t I? Leftovers from this place could keep me fed for a whole week, maybe even more if I froze them.” He said, as though this was the most common knowledge in the world. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Chardonnay. ”There’s no rule that specifically says ‘no Tupperware’ and besides, look at all the food here! It’s all great quality. Why wouldn’t I want to save some?”

Arthur almost flinched when she said his name, not because she sounded particularly violent or mad but because it was just so odd for her to sound to irritated and say his name rather than Jackass or Asshole. He was only used to that happening during their very serious fights – which he definitely did not want to happen here. Despite everything, he really did want to be here. The atmosphere was different, and the people were strangers and all too rich for their own good, but the smiling face of the chef from earlier stuck in his mind. He didn’t mind being here, where people were showing off their work, sort of like a movie showcase. There was a lot of money poured into those, just like here, but when the directors and actors showed off their final works it was amazing to see what they’d done. Like that, Arthur wanted to stay here, and see the hard work all of these chefs had put into their cuisine.

The couple walked by and Arthur saw that smile that had vanished from Chardonnay’s face come back, and suddenly, it clicked. At least in his mind it did. She was ashamed that she brought him, and that he was so frugal that he would make people think he was some poor beggar who didn’t’ deserve to be here. He wasn’t. He was just smart, resourceful, and Chardonnay’s opinion on that shouldn’t bother him. But for some reason it, did. A lot. He looked away from her with a frown and furrowed brow.

”Excuse me for being resourceful, Princess.” he grumbled, sure that her concern was just for her reputation. He glanced back over at Chardonnay as she tucked her hair behind her ear. ”I don’t care what people think of me. I’m smarter than they are if they think this is a dumb idea – they’re the ones who’re going to have to cook fresh meals and waste more money when I have leftovers saved for a week in advance.”

He didn’t know that there weren’t going to be takeout containers and at that he shrugged. ”I don’t know. But it’s more convenient to bring my own.” When she mentioned people would latch onto his actions like leeches, he snorted. ”Let them say what they want about me. It’s not like they actually care about me. You’re the only one of us they actually care about. I'm not sorry if I'm an embarrassment to you, because you're the one who invited me here in the first place.”

Arthur waited for her response, shifting on his feet, his frown not subsiding. He was aware of the people glancing over in their direction – probably in his direction – and he reiterated in his mind that Chardonnay had no right to be embarrassed by him. She’d invited him. If she wasn’t comfortable with hos frugal he was, or how he looked, she wouldn’t have invited him. He glanced around at the crowd of aristocratic people with their perfectly trimmed eyebrows and glittering rings. He felt slightly out of place the longer he thought about it, with his half-messy hair and nice top that Chardonnay had forced him to change into. He wondered what people were saying about him.

He looked at her face and watched as it twitched – it was so obvious she wanted to snap at him – and he waited for her to do it. He waited for the inevitable argument that would wind up getting them kicked out and for their fuckbuddy relationship to end. That thought was almost enough to get him to back down – but he shouldn’t! he should hold his own even if she didn’t like it. He didn’t have to appease her. He was the guest here. When she made a quip about people making food every day he exhaled. That wasn’t what he had a problem with. Having leftovers was good. He wasn’t saying they should stop doing their jobs but not all people could afford to eat out every day! Leftovers were great! He always had some after he ate, unless the entrée had small portions. They could love cooking all they want, but having to opportunity to eat a meal more than once – that was a good thing, too.

She dismissed his words with a hand wave and a statement and Arthur rose his brows, confused by her appeasement, and even more confused by her expression thereafter. While she looked at him with a relaxed face he just looked very, very confused – which evaporated his anger at the situation – and he listened to her when she told him not to care. Which he didn’t. But what interested him more was when she stepped around him and told him that she wasn’t embarrassed by him. That wiped the confusion off of his face and replaced it with something else – shock – and then he was glad she turned around because for some ungodly reason his cheeks flushed warm and he hid his face with his hand. God damn it. He didn’t know why hearing that made his heart skip a beat in his chest but whatever it was he didn’t like it. It made him feel weird, and not angry at Chardonnay anymore, despite the fact that he was angry at her earlier. Why the fuck would hearing her say that she wasn’t embarrassed by him give him such a weird reaction?

Maybe it was just that he always thought she’d be embarrassed to be seen with him. That she always thought he was lower than her, and that she was ashamed to say that she was attracted to him despite everything. Maybe hearing her say she wasn’t embarrassed about him made him feel happier than he wanted to admit – which he could feel due to the smile underneath his hand that was hiding his face – and he felt a little less out of place here, even if he didn’t like this crowd or know the people.

Either way, it was too complicated to think about.

Arthur noticed Chardonnay was now almost lost in the crowd, walking confidently towards a lobster booth not too far away. He lowered his hand from his face in time to see her turn around and look at him – and he took it to think that she was waiting for him to catch up – and it made his lip twitch up into a half-smile again.

Arthur navigated the crowd, getting through it until he stood by Chardonnay’s side, walking beside her, glancing ahead of them at the lobster stand. The chef there looked like he was in a conversation with some important looking schmuck, and he just stuck close to Chardonnay because hell he was going to try and get lost surrounded by these people he didn’t know or trust.

When they got to the food, Arthur took some of the lobster onto a plate and blinked at it. He’d never been crazy about lobster – too expensive, too watery, and too buttery – but he could try it, he guessed. He definitely wouldn’t be saving any leftovers of this though. He got a small bit of butter to dip the lobster in and glanced over at Chardonnay, then the chef, who seemed to have stopped talking to the critic for the time being and turned towards Chardonnay and Arthur with a smile – obviously aware of who Chardonnay was when he said, ”Hi, Ms. Nicholas!” and invited her to try and critique his lobster. Arthur meanwhile tried his best not to just shove all of his lobster in his mouth and swallow it like he’d used to do when he was spending all of Susan’s dates dry as a child in restaurants.

Arthur listened to the discussion about the lobster with the chef that Chardonnay had – finding he had little productiveness to say. Personally he thought the eagerness of the chef was fine. If a chef wasn’t proud of what they did and eager to share it that was bad right? Or, well, it made him want to try it more if the guy was so excited about it. But Arthur opted not to say anything because what did he know about snobby food critics? The people who he was convinced he spoke for were the type of people who rarely bought lobster and expensive meals whereas critics likely ate food of this caliber every day.

The lobster tasted like the ocean to Arthur. Salty and warm. It was an odd blend and he wasn’t a fan of it, so he didn’t pull out his Tupperware to save any for later. Despite his dislike of the lobster when the chef looked at him he found he couldn’t say anything and he said it was fine, though he said he agreed with Chardonnay, it was kind of bland. The chef took that in stride, thanked them for their time and feedback, and turned to the next group who seemed to come over. When they left the stand Arthur exhaled and turned to Chardonnay, saying that he didn’t like lobster anyway but he couldn’t find it in him to tell the guy that. It tasted kind of like it was trying to be a liquid, but was a solid, and Arthur informed her that he would be picking the next sand – as though it was her fault they’d gone to the lobster one. His tone was light, though, and teasing.

The next stand they went to was a chicken one and Arthur took a bite of the chicken – which was delicious and melt-in-your-mouth – but with chicken when it was reheated it just didn’t taste the same so he let it be. When Chardonnay took her next glass of champagne, Arthur found himself offered one. He politely declined, though he kind of wanted to take a glass. He didn’t know how strong it was and he knew how much of a lightweight he was, and he didn’t want to ruin this evening by getting wasted halfway through. Oddly enough he had more fun than he thought he would. Spending time with Chardonnay – especially when she got chattier and they started to joke around and tease a little more than they had been doing before. He didn’t want to be drunk and not remember this. He blamed her sudden interest in communication on the alcohol she was drinking. He mostly enjoyed the pasta dishes and soups – those were the ones he pulled out Tupperware containers for and saved for later. He was caught by one of the chefs, snatching some extra stew, and the chef looked happier than annoyed. Arthur supposed that counted as a plus.

As the evening went on and Chardonnay led him through the evet, they were spoken to by many people. Some chefs seemed to want to hold conversations with Chardonnay, outside of the food, and Arthur mostly just listened to the conversations while trying not to wander off. It was pretty amusing to hear the conversations – and he couldn’t help but snort when one of the critics said she always out dressed everyone. He should have known and he flashed Chardonnay an amused look if she caught his eye after that. But generally he went ignored aside from the introductions. They didn’t know him but they knew her father and he said that Thomas was a friendly and amicable man who was acquainted with his former boss.

But shocking enough to him, they actually seemed interested in him after. The questions were then directed at him. Aside from his initial introduction he hadn’t been intending to speak. When they asked him what he did he explained he owned a theater up in Salem, where he lived. That seemed to get the attention of the critics and others alike, and a few even commented that he must have come out of his way to come to the event. There he tried to shift conversation back to Chardonnay by saying that she was the one who gave him a ride down, and then he usually mentioned some kind of food item they’d eaten earlier. The conversations went well, generally, and Arthur was glad for that. One man even knew Jason – or knew of him – and said he knew Jason sold the theater but had no idea who it was to. Arthur was surprised the man knew Jason but could he really be? Jason was so popular, it wasn’t as surprising as it should have been.

Arthur followed Chardonnay the whole time – not wanting to get lost in an unsure location – and listened to the chefs speak. His favorite meal had to be a fettuccini pasta prepared by a young girl, who looked a little younger than he and Chardonnay, who took Chardonnay’s commentary about her dish in stride. Her stand wasn’t surrounded by people – she was shy and not well-known – but Arthur finished his bowl and then asked for another, and then loaded it into his Tupperware. That time the girl clearly saw what he was doing and laughed, though the sound wasn’t dark, it was more amused. Like the other chef, she looked happy that Arthur liked it enough to put in a Tupperware. After that she explained a bit more about the dish specifically to Arthur. When she was done she thanked them for coming and Arthur smugly commented that she didn’t look offended that he’d used Tupperware.

After a break from pasta, they finally made their way over to another station, the most stress inducing one.

The pasta there was OK, nothing special but nothing bad. Arthur was already almost half-way through his Tupperware and was saving some of them for later so he didn’t bother saving any of the pasta. He didn’t really like the choice of shells. But before he could say anything Chardonnay went off on the dish – critiquing it harshly as she always did. The chef here didn’t take her critique lightly and instead got defensive. When the woman started to snap insults at Chardonnay Arthur was pretty sure this was going to go bad. He looked at Chardonnay’s expression as the woman ranted, expecting her to snap and start clawing the girls eyeballs out (and prepared to restrain her if she tried to) but she didn’t. Shockingly enough she shook her head and called the woman pathetic. That seemed to make the woman furious as Chardonnay walked away confidently and Arthur’s brows rose in surprise. That she hadn’t gone off on this woman – physically anyway – was pretty impressive. She really had grown up since college. It was interesting to think about.

He didn’t say anything to the chef but he did follow Chardonnay away, and when they were away enough, he snorted. Looking at the other people leaving the other girls station, all with unhappy expressions on their faces as the girl tried desperately to find something to make her dish taste better. He nudged Chardonnay’s arm lightly with his and pointed out that the rest of the venue seemed to agree with her assessment of the pasta anyway.

After a few more stands Arthur was beginning to feel somewhat stuffed – his naturally small stomach already nearing its total capacity. He appreciated the break and sat down beside Chardonnay for a few minutes. It was odd to talk to her so civilly for so long, in public, but... he liked it. He liked hearing what she had to say about the other stands and people at the venue, even if he didn’t know any of them like she did.

He expected to go right back to the food and stands, but when she grabbed him by the arm and told him to follow her he obliged. It was odd feeling her touch him without the implication for sex there, but he liked it and decided if she ever wanted to do that, she could. He followed her to the large bay windows and looked out at the sunset and the pasture, blinking to allow his eyes to adjust to the view. The shadows were long and stretched out, and the sky was mixing between shades of orange and purple as the sun slowly set. He listened to her explain the pasture and that the Redwoods loved their horses. He allowed his eyes to travel across the moving dots grazing the field, and by the time Chardonnay was finished speaking he was looking over at her and the way the setting sunlight illuminated the diamonds on her dress and the flecks of green in her eyes.

”In a countryside sort of way?” He snorted, slowly turning away from her to look out at the view again. He was aware her hand was still on his arm but he didn’t move to shake it off or acknowledge it. He looked from the dots grazing the field to the small white barn not too far away from them. ”It is different from Salem, though. It’s... I didn’t expect to see a view like this in this part of California. It’s... really open. And beautiful.”

He glanced back over at Chardonnay again and sent her a half-smirk. ”At least you didn’t try to hog the entire view. Then again I probably would have followed you over here anyway. You’re not leaving me to fend for myself here.”

Standing here, in a lavish building while smelling food being prepared and feeling Chardonnay’s hand on his arm, gave him an odd feeling. He never expected Chardonnay to be impressed for such a simple view like this, but he knew he’d always had a soft spot for scenery and views of any kind. He loved to just look out into the world and see the way nature worked – he liked to watch the wind slap the wildflowers down below around, as the horses galloped around the greens below and raced one another, with their tails swishing in the wind. It was a simple view like that that he expected Chardonnay to scoff at and ignore yet here she was, apparently just as impressed as he was. Not only that, but she was also pulling him over to look at it and appreciate it.

There were a few other groups admiring the view as well – mainly couples, with a few families and their small children there to also appreciate the view. There was a little girl who couldn’t have been older than 6 who was pointing excitedly to the horses and he was reminded for a second of a younger Adelaide – she would have loved to see all of the horses.

”A countryside is bigger than this. Same concept, just... bigger. And there’s less of those trees in the background.” He gestured towards the hills behind the pasture, which were littered with trees that stretched towards the orange hue of the sky. He could remember the country from times he’d driven through it to get to New York. ”The greens go on for miles. You can’t even see a sign of civilization after a certain point. It’s not exactly like this and it’s not like a vineyard, either. I’ve never been to a vineyard, though.” He glanced over at Chardonnay. He wondered if her parents were the type to own some kind of vacation home in a vineyard. That’d be a waste of space – you could easily rent a hotel – but he didn’t want to ruin the mood and said nothing.

When he made a comment about her being a hog and she playfully hit him, Arthur smirked over at her. The atmosphere reminded him of the time they were joking together in his kitchen – an atmosphere they hadn’t had between them in a long time. But he missed it, and was glad that at least for now, it was back. Her hand was now no longer on his arm and instead locked on her hips, which he glanced at briefly before his eyes moved back up to her face.

”You can’t blame me for expecting you to hog things. You’re not usually very nice to me,” He pointed out, though when she said she was ‘on her best behavior’ he snorted. Was she a puppy? He would have said something if she didn’t mention Kenneth and the fact that he seemed to be able to handle himself. He rose his brows and shook his head.

”It’s not surprising, if you know Jason’s personality. What’s surprising is Jason knowing your dad. If he knows Thomas of all people, it’s not surprising he knows people here. That guy loves to eat.” He remembered that dinner all too well – the dinner that almost caused them to stop sleeping together for good. It was odd that they’d still come together after that incident. ”Hey. I might be able to withstand a conversation but I don’t want to be alone here! I can’t act all night. You’re the one who invited me here, so you’re stuck with me. Kenneth lost interest in me the second conversation shifted back to your father.”

When she said he’d likely been to the country before and made a quip about him liking plaid Arthur snorted. He could recall many times he’d actually been in the country – there were hotels he and Susan stayed at while en route to New York, backroads they drove through, and sights they’d seen.

”I’ve driven through the country a lot to get back to New York, but I’ve never actually lived in the country. It’s nice to go through, though. And by the way, plaid is a common color for shirts. It’s not just a country thing anymore you know. Some people actually find it fashionable,” He looked away from the beautiful sunset outside to glance at Chardonnay, his expression not annoyed like his tone might have come across as. He liked to banter with her and tease her when he could and this was a perfect opportunity to do so. But quickly the conversation and teasing between the two of them verged into a different territory... it was like they were flirting with one another. Not that he minded.

When she said she was only being nice for the night and told him she’d go back to hogging the covers later he snorted again, the whisper of her voice as she spoke the last line reminding him about where they were. But at the same time he wanted to lean down closer to her and whisper something to tease her right back, he wanted to flirt with her more. He was reminded of when they teased each other after the food fight. It was... nice to banter with her like this.

”We’re arguing right now, Princess,” He commented, though there was no malice in his tone and the half smirk on his lips indicated that he would probably get into a blanket war with her the next time she tried to hog them from him. ”And that sounds kind of like a declaration of war to me. A war you’re not going to win, by the way.”

Oh, he could tell people here loved her father. Constantly they’d come up to Chardonnay and ask where he was or that they were sad he couldn’t come – something he assumed had to bother her by how stiff she sometimes got – and how even after people were introduced to him they went right back to talking about Thomas. When she said he could hold his own he shrugged.

”Just because I could hold my own doesn’t mean I want to. It’s not as fun when I have to keep putting on an act to keep people interested in me,” He said. There was a reason he never pursued acting besides his self-consciousness – he just didn’t like doing it. He watched Chardonnay as she motioned for him to follow and debated the pros and cons of continuing the teasing by touching her ass on the way past her. He figured that would be too obvious, though, so he just thought about it for a few seconds before he approached her, staying by her side. He could touch her ass later, when they were alone, and when they weren’t surrounded by snobby people.

He looked at all the venue options and his eyes lit up when he saw another one in the distance – it looked like a sautéed beef and vegetable dish – and began to approach it – once again forgetting that he should have beckoned to Chardonnay before doing so.

Arthur took the plate of food, listening to Brian talk though not understanding everything he was describing. Still, Arthur found that it was interesting to hear the guy talk with so much passion anyway. He mostly was looking at Chardonnay, but he occasionally sent smiles to Arthur, smiles which he reciprocated. He said his thanks for the food and listened to the cackle of grease and looked down at the dish, looking at the sautéed vegetables. He reached down with a fork and got a forkful of them into his mouth just as Chardonnays phone went off. Arthur had no idea who she would be texting – it didn’t matter if she texted people or whatever – but it was odd that she was getting a text when she had no friends. For all Arthur knew, everyone in the world could be texting him. His phone was on silent, resting against his ass through the material of his jeans. He glanced at Chardonnay with raised brows and his mouth half-full of vegetables as she glanced at her phone. He couldn’t help it, he was curious – he glanced at her facial expression as she read the message.

Oddly enough, she seemed pissed. If she got any texts they would likely be from her parents, right? But this reaction was not something that she would have from her parents. Her face was flushed and she had pursed lips, and twitching brows. He wondered briefly if it was Chad sending her a dick pic. That would be fucking hilarious. Why was she still ‘friendly’ with Chad, he wondered? There had been that period where he feared she was sleeping with him, but he figured that wasn’t true anymore. Chad was back to fawning over Mallory, and probably wouldn’t hit on Chardonnay. Hopefully. Did he still do that? Arthur wondered if he still came to Chardonnay’s restaurant.

His thoughts were interrupted when Chardonnay’s voice, loud and angry, echoed and he looked at Brian. He and Brian made eye contact briefly. Brian looked just as confused as Arthur did, and the both of them looked over at Chardonnay. When she asked about a picture Arthur blinked, and opened his mouth.

”What picture? Who’s that?” Arthur asked, feeling a wave of... concern. Was this someone who was bothering her? Like, an annoying food critic or investor, or something? Was someone trying to blackmail her maybe? The more time passed the more Chardonnay freaked out and her voice grew panicked. Arthur had never heard her sound that panicked and freaked out and it reminded him of the time shed drunken herself into a stupor, talking about some creep who wouldn’t stop bothering her, some creep he’d never seen and who had cornered her at her restaurant at 1 AM. Some crepe who might have wanted to rape her or kidnap her or murder her.

Thoughts of that made him irate – what if that guy had someone gotten an incriminating picture of her? What if he was trying to force Chardonnay into something?!

”Chardonnay! What the fuck are you doing?” He asked her, as everyone’s eyes started to lock on her and him, by association. ”Who the – Chardonnay! Jesus fucking Christ, who is that?!”

He wondered if the person was here. Chardonnay was freaking out and then she accused the person of being a spy – and then she looked over at the crowd, with a glare, like someone was here who was doing that bullshit. He saw Kenneth wave over and didn’t care – he knew the guy and Chardonnay hadn’t freaked out when they met. It couldn’t be him, then. But behind Kenneth, almost hiding, was a guy on his phone. He was looking over at the scene with confusion and there was something in the smirk on the guys face that pissed Arthur off.

”Chardonnay!” He turned to look at her again, glaring, but she was ignoring him and just panicking at her phone. She was also glaring in that direction and he saw the guy on the phone’s lips move as the guy started to leave, looking more satisfied than he had any right to be. Looking over at Chardonnay, Arthur could see her body shaking from discomfort – the guy had to be here, then! Some creep was taking pictures of her, huh?

Fuck that.

As he continued to get ignored by Chardonnay, he rolled his eyes and instead moved away from her, leaving his plate with Brian. He moved through the crowd and when Kenneth tried to stop him and ask if Chardonnay was okay, he ignored him, instead focused on the guy who was now laughing into his phone. That guy was laughing, huh?

Arthur reached forward and grabbed the guy by the shoulder, startling him, and then he harshly shoved the guy against the wall. His phone clattered to the ground beside him and Arthur thrust his forearm against the guy’s neck. Right now he didn’t care if he was making a bigger scene than Chardonnay, or if his doing so freaked the crowd out and caused them to scream and move away. Arthur watched as the guy in his grasp struggled to breathe and finally looked at him. The guy looked more scared than angry – now that Arthur got a good look at the guy, he was a bit thicker than himself, and he was taller, too. That didn’t matter much because now Arthur had him in his grasp.

The dude tried to speak but Arthur just shoved his arm closer to the guy’s neck and caused him to choke.

”You think it’s fun to stalk girls, you piece of shit?” He asked – no, asked was the wrong word, he demanded in a hiss – as he kept the guy in place. The guy’s arms kept flying to the arm on his neck, trying to pry it off. True to his word, Arthur was stronger than he looked, and the prying was useless. The guy’s phone was on the ground now, and a woman’s voice was asking something, and Arthur in his fit of irritation assumed it was Chardonnay demanding where he got the photo from. ”Go ahead, keep squirming. I’ll just break your fucking arm so you can never take another photo again.”

Despite Chardonnay pulling his arm, Arthur didn’t relent, and continued to keep the guy pressed against it. Arthur didn’t know why Chardonnay would ask him to stop if this was the stalker – perhaps to avoid a scene – but right now he couldn’t think logically. He could only think with his temper, something that he’d somewhat controlled over the years – but felt it flaring violently again. The last time he’d been this mad... it had to have been years ago. It probably would have been a similar situation with his sister or Maxine. But none of them had a stalker like Chardonnay did.

How long had this guy been stalking her? He remembered the first night he’d heard word of this guy – Chardonnay had drunken herself into a stupor and bene so, so terribly upset... and concerned that he was going to sneak into her condo or spy on her patio. The thoughts brought a fresh wave of anger to Arthur and he pressed harder. But then he heard Chardonnay’s voice and turned to look at her, his eyes still lit with rage and his jaw squared in irritation. All these years Chardonnay texted him she was home safe, he thought Andrew wasn’t a fear she had anymore. But apparently she did – maybe she didn’t tell him about it, but maybe she was still terrified – and that thought made him even angrier because if that was the case he was going to kill this asshole.

”Is this that guy who won’t leave you alone? Did he get a picture of you?” He asked, and the guy tried to say something but Arthur turned back to look at him. ”This is the guy who tried to corner you after you closed your restaurant? I told you I’d punch the guy in the face if I ever met him,” as he spoke his other fist clenched and the people watching seemed to be trying to find security or at least, Mr. Redwood. Still, Arthur wasn’t thinking about that. He thought of the picture – what could it be? Maybe it was a picture he’d gotten of her when he broke into her condo? Maybe it was her in the shower, exposed, or getting changed? The thought of some creep getting a picture of her when she had her guard down pissed him off even more, and his brow twitched as the guy being restrained looked at Chardonnay, matching her pleading look with one of his own. ”No way in hell is this guy getting away with snapping a picture of you.”