12Chapter Twenty-Three: Formal Affair
"I know I'm doing the right thing," Blake breathlessly confessed. "But somehow, I feel like a rat."
"Nonsense, child!" Penelope Claypool put her hand over his. "You're a gentleman in every sense of the word, brave and loyal and oh, very attractive. I'm delighted to have you as my escort!" The two of them were all dressed up and on their way to a banquet at the Biltmore Forest Country Club. Wealthy and powerful Penelope had chosen Blake to be her escort, even though she was over seventy and he was barely twenty-one. Blake was all dolled up as Penelope's date. But in truth he was just bait.
"Marco might not even be there." Blake felt hot and sweaty, even though the sleek black limousine was air-conditioned. The dance was a formal affair, and that made him even more nervous. He kept fiddling with his bow tie, which felt much too tight. Blake had never worn such an expensive set of clothes in his entire life!
"Of course he'll be there," Penelope insisted, her diamond necklace sparkling and glittering as if shooting off sparks of fire. "Marco is greedy, and there's a big fat check waiting for him when he accepts the plaque as Employee of The Month. But that's not the only reason the brute will be here." The old woman studied the luscious blonde boy seated beside her. "You're the real prize!"
"But I'm just presenting the plaque, right? I don't want to be part of the arrest or anything like that."
"You have nothing to worry about, Blake darling. The police know how to handle things quietly, believe me. They'll take him quietly after the awards ceremony. Marco will never even see it coming!"
As the limo pulled into the country club drive, Blake tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault. Marco should never have taken the judge's money! But deep down he felt like a dirty rat. Especially when they climbed out of the limo together and Penelope took his arm and began leading him about, stopping here and there to introduce him to her very wealthy friends.
"How do you do, Senator? Mrs. Atkins, how good to see you!" Blake came to life and flashed his most charming smile, careful to use his inside knowledge. He had been practicing for this night all week, memorizing names and rehearsing polite greetings for every local dignitary or club member. Penelope coached him every morning over breakfast, or while he was resting after lunch in a lounge by the outdoor pool. The lessons paid off and Blake was proud of himself. But all the time he kept looking for Marco.
"And as we continue our tradition of public service and charitable giving, which has always been the hallmark of our community . . ."
After dinner came the speeches, first from the mayor and then from various members of the city council and the chamber of commerce. Sexy no-good Marco was nowhere in sight, his seat at the employees' table at the back of the ballroom still empty. The mayor's voice droned on and on, with everyone sipping cocktails and applauding politely at the right moments.
Blake sat beside Penelope in the VIP section, his bow tie loosened and his black dinner jacket draped over an empty chair. It was hard to focus on the mayor's low, droning voice. Blake had eaten loads of lobster and drunk quite a bit of champagne. Now he was simply struggling to keep his eyes open. It was very warm in the ballroom. Then all of a sudden, everyone started clapping.
"Darling, why don't you step outside for a breath of fresh air?" Penelope laughed as the applause came to an end. Old Senator Atkins had come strolling over to the table while Blake was out of it. The fat little man was whispering something in Penelope's ear.
"Okay, sure." Blake felt like a fool, getting jealous of an old man. He walked off without looking back, not caring if Penelope and the Senator carried on sharing their cozy little secrets without him. He had a few secrets too!
The ballroom was hot and stuffy, but the kitchen hallway was cool. Blake was used to finding his way around country clubs like this, but only from the servant's entrance. He'd even worked as a dishwasher for a while at the club near Virginia's place on the shore. Bittersweet memories washed over him as he crept into the deserted kitchen. All the long summer nights he'd spent at Virginia's, the two of them in their pajamas, watching old movies and talking till dawn. Was she okay? Somehow they'd lost touch.
But he'd come a long way from cozy Driftwood Cottage!
"Hey!" The rough voice and the massive hand gripping his shoulder took Blake completely by surprise. He'd been bathing his face in cool water at the kitchen sink, hoping to wake himself up a little before trudging back to the hot and stuffy ballroom.
"Marco! What are you . . . why are you dressed like that? Everyone's expecting you in the ballroom!"
"Yeah, no shit." Marco wasn't dressed for an awards banquet. The massively built masseur had on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of skintight jeans, plus a black pair of beat up old motorcycle boots. He looked exactly like Blake's most mouth-watering sexual fantasy come to life. With his glowering face and those black eyes burning hot, he also looked mad enough to break Blake in two.
"Hit a little snag this afternoon, when I was banging Betty Lou Jenkins in the woods behind Slim's Snack Shack. Her daddy is the bailiff at the county courthouse, and it seems little Betty Lou overheard something about an arrest tonight at the country club. You wouldn't know anything about that, Blake, would you?"
"Marco, I swear to God I never thought . . . I never meant . . ." Blake's emotions were churning faster than he could put his thoughts into words. He'd tried so hard to warn Marco! He'd called, written, texted, begged him to return the stolen money. But now all he could seem to do was picture Marco banging Betty Lou. And then double over as Marco punched him in the stomach.