Masquerade

“You sure this isn’t a bit much?” Tegan asked, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on the front of her dress.

Vero tapped her hand away. “Stop fidgeting,” she scolded.

Tegan dropped her gaze all the way down to her golden heels. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Vero tipped her chin back up. “No need to be sorry. Just remember: tonight you are a woman. You are strong and beautiful,” she encouraged, swiping gloss across Tegan’s lips.

“Right, strong and beautiful,” Tegan attempted to convince herself. Her wildly beating heart persuaded her otherwise.

Tegan collapsed on the side of the bathtub, “Oh it’s no use.”

Vero grabbed her hands and pulled her back up. “You look like a goddess Tegan,” she stated, pulling the glittery butterfly mask over Tegan’s face.

“No doubt the same goddess you’ve kept locked away for no one to see but you,” Vero continued, curling the stray wisps of hair around Tegan’s face.

Tegan draped her hair over her shoulder to keep from raking her hand through it. It fell down her back, glistening like honey. Her eyes closed as she let a calming sigh blow past her shimmering lips.

“It’s time to let that inner goddess shine through so she can have some fun, eh?” Vero winked, shimmying her shoulders for added effect.

A knock emanated from the other side of the bathroom door. “Is everyone decent?” Marc-André joked. Vero fully opened the door and revealed her husband decked out in a tux.

“Nice penguin suit there Flower,” Tegan let the wisecrack roll off her tongue.

“Hey you shithead! I’m you’re ride for the night. You better be nice to me or you’ll be walking home,” he chirped back in response, a wide grin plastered upon his face.

“Don’t worry Tegan, if he won’t drive you home, I will,” Vero reassured her, fixing Marc’s tie. She turned back to Tegan and gave her one last look over to make certain everything was perfect.

“Ready?” Vero asked, with an encouraging smile.

Tegan nodded. “Ready,” she replied with a smile of her own.

“Your chariot awaits milady’s,” Marc announced with a cheesy grin and an exaggerated bow –which earned him a playful slap from Vero.

It was a half hour drive to the venue. Tegan wrung her hands the entire time –despite Vero’s attempts to distract her. Once they had parked, the trio entered the building. After they had given their jackets over to the coat check, Vero hugged Tegan.

“Head up, shoulders back,” Vero instructed as she pulled away, and then added as an afterthought, “And remember to have fun!”

“Uhm, thanks? You too,” Tegan mumbled.

“We’ll meet back here for around eleven-thirty,” Marc informed her, taking Vero’s arm.

Tegan nodded in response to a departing Vero whom was giving her the thumbs up sign in tandem with Marc’s flamboyant pantomimes of being too hot whilst pointing back at Tegan.

Tegan simply rolled her eyes as she followed the couple towards the grand ballroom. Her mouth, however, went slack upon taking in the venue before her. It was absolutely picturesque and more than she could have ever imagined. Marble stretched out as far as the eye could see. It even extended up the walls in the form of pillars, connected by black velvet curtains. Round tables decorated with black cloths speckled the floor and were tastefully paired with golden chairs.

To her left, bartenders donning black masks produced drinks for the attending patrons. To her right, a space had been cleared with the intention of becoming a dance floor.

As she descended each step, Tegan tried desperately to take everything in. All kinds of paper faces were on parade. Shades of red, the occasional flash of mauve and splashes of gold caught her eye. Smiling faces of lace, ostentatious patterns, as well as wacky jokers, and even the occasion animal greeted her –was that a penguin mask she just saw?

Tegan could have drowned drinking up all the light and sound. Little did she know, however, that quite a few men in attendance were just as absorbed in her appearance.

Across the ballroom James was keeping company with Evgeni Malkin, Pascal Dupuis, and his wife Carole-Lyne. All Penguin players had elected not to wear masks that evening, but not all had gotten the memo. Paul Martin quickly joined the group donning a vintage goalie mask. “Nealer, did you get a look at the amazon Sid is talking to?” he asked, pointing over to their captain.

Five sets of eyes looked on as Sid handed a glass of champagne to a woman in a gauzy red dress. James’ eyes traveled up the length of her body, taking in the vines that rose from her waist encompassing her torso in scarlet flame. They glittered and gleamed with each movement she made, as did the golden butterfly she wore upon her face. However, neither of them compared to her luminescent smile.

“She pretty,” Geno stated the obvious. James’ bobbed his head utterly speechless. She wasn’t just pretty, she was gorgeous –and by the looks of Sid’s grin, she was charming too.

“Hey Neal, if you don’t close your mouth soon the cleaning staff will be using your drool to mop the floors with,” Duper chirped, pulling James from his daze.

He shook his head, “Wha?”

A chorus of laughs followed his response.

Paulie clasped a hand on James’ shoulder. “Maybe you should go talk to her,” he suggested.

“And try not to drool on her shoes,” Pascal added, with a booming laugh.

James did try to talk to her all night, but it seemed that every time he saw that she was free another man was by her side in the blink of an eye. It went as such for most of the evening. Eventually he made a game of it, to help pass the time, humming to the tune of ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ each time she politely excused herself.

When he saw her make way for the bar, he knew this would be his chance. He made his way over and quickly slipped into the stool beside her. “May I join you?” he asked, equipped with an award-winning smile.

“I’m really sorry, but uh, I’m waiting for a friend –a male friend!” Tegan claimed, looking around the room to seem more convincing. She couldn’t deal with James just yet, not while she was still flustered from the others that had approached before him.
James’ brow arched. She wasn’t fooling anyone. “Oh really?” he replied, sarcasm dripping into his tone.

Tegan let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I’ve been hit on all night and it’s really starting to get on my nerves,” she snapped.
It was only after she had finished that Tegan realized it had all come out in a more impolite manner than she had meant. Her eyes clenched shut, way to go Tegan.

“Sorry,” she apologized immediately for her behaviour.

“No worries,” James waved it off. “It’s not everyday you meet a girl who doesn’t like to be fawned over by attractive men. Most girls would kill to be in your shoes right now,” he informed her.

“Well, I guess you could say that I’m not like most girls,” Tegan responded, almost laughing at the irony of the situation.

She leaned back in the chair, finally feeling comfortable for the first time all night. It seemed bizarre to her that it had only taken bantering with James to make her feel at ease.

“How about you then? Most guys wandered off when I mentioned that I was waiting for someone. Why didn’t you follow suit?” she continued, a daring glint overtaking her gaze.

“Well, I’m not like most guys,” James retorted, with a dashing grin.

“Using my own responses against me, eh?” Tegan chuckled.

James shrugged, “What can I say? I’m a witty guy.”

He leaned in closer. Close enough for Tegan to smell the subtle hints of his cologne. It made her knees weak. So weak that she had to grip the counter for support. “You should let me make it up to you by allowing me to buy you a drink,” he proposed, and then cast a cheeky glance in her direction, “It’ll help pass the time –until your friend gets here of course.”

Damn he was smooth, but now it was her turn to step up to bat. Tegan placed her hand on James’ forearm and squeezed. “You know as well as I do that there’s no one coming, but I’ll gladly take that drink along with your company,” she replied, a wicked smirk fixed upon her lips.

She heard James gulp audibly and her grin grew. “What’s your poison?” he asked, licking his lips.

Tegan turned to the bartender and said, “I’ll have a pint of stout please.”

“Beer?!” James exclaimed in astonishment, ordering the same.

As they were each given their respective glasses, James clinked his against Tegan’s. “You are becoming the most interesting woman I have ever met,” he admitted, bringing the glass to his lips.

“I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing,” Tegan chuckled, taking a sip herself.

“It’s definitely a good thing,” he reassured her, gripping the back of his neck.

Tegan’s smile grew, crinkling the corners of her eyes. Then she caught sight of James’ reddening ears. Wait a minute: was the Real Deal James Neal blushing? She refrained from doing a double take. Nevertheless, the thought of James being just as nervous as she was relaxed Tegan even more.

Conversation flowed freely after that –even as the beer dwindled within their glasses. When Tegan took the last swig of stout she heard James clear his throat.

“Now that I’ve had some liquid courage, would you like to dance?” James asked, holding out his hand.

Tegan’s breath caught in her throat. James was asking her to dance. Her James, the one that had told her countless times he had two left feet was asking her to dance. Am I dreaming, she thought, resisting the urge to pinch herself.

Instead, she slipped her hand into his. “I’d love to,” she responded, praying he wouldn’t notice how clammy her palms were.

The couple made their way to the dance floor. A soft, romantic tune was playing –definitely not the kind of music to bust a move to. Tegan looked around at the surrounding dancing pairs. Some were waltzing, while others were attempting to foxtrot. She didn’t know how to do any of these dances.

Her distress was palpable enough for James to detect. He rested his hand on her lower back, holding Tegan’s hand against his chest with the other. Yet it was his warm smile that put her at ease.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered into her ear.

The feeling of his breath against her neck released a cascade of shivers that washed down her spine. She slung an arm around his neck and bobbed her head to let him know she was ready. James nudged her slightly and then gently swayed them in concentric circles.

Tegan had never been one for cliché, but the deeper she delved into James’ hazel eyes, the more she agreed that time truly did stand still.

In fact, she had been so lost in the moment, Tegan lost track of time. The song eventually ended and from her spot in James’ arms, the clock on the opposite wall read eleven-twenty. It was time for her to meet up with Marc and Vero. The smile she had been wearing fell instantaneously.

“I have to go,” she spoke, her words laced with regret.

“Your coach going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight?” James joked.

Tegan bit her lip. “Yeah, something like that,” she murmured.

James dropped her hand. “Did I do something wrong?” he inquired, his eyebrows cinching together.

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes wide with surprise. Then the corners of her mouth tugged up, “You were perfect.”

Tegan turned to go, resenting each step she took away from him. This night had been nearly beyond any in comparison –nearly. The only thing Tegan had not been able to do was kiss him. Although…there was still time. Here goes nothing, she thought racing back to James. She called his name and when he spun around to face her she grasped the lapel of his jacket and brought his lips down to hers.

“Cutting it a bit close there Cinderella?” James chuckled, resting his forehead against hers.

“Save it Prince Charming,” Tegan countered, kissing him once more.

This time when she turned around, she did not look back. She ran up the staircase, her face rosy and her smile bright. This night had now become magical. It had been all Tegan wanted and more; but now it was over.

The evening had been equally perfect for James. However, it was only after his mystery woman had disappeared over the staircase that James realized he had forgotten to ask her name. He ran to catch up with her, but by the time he made it to the coat check, she was gone. He cursed himself the rest of the night.