Elegantly Wasted

It was with a lot of trepidation that Sharon had accepted the invitation to the mid-summers ball at the wealthy Berkshire Estate. She had not seen her friends, or better described as her social circle, in almost three months. In a way she was surprised that they had remembered she even existed after what they saw as her fall from grace.

It had been only a short time after the last high society engagement that she attended that her and her husband Paul had separated. He had become distant and no longer possessed any affection for his wife of seven years when he finally delivered the knockout blow. He was leaving and had already decided that they could not resolve any issues between them.

Sharon had spent the following weeks lost in a sea of despair. Paul had come from a wealthy family and his parents had never approved of Sharon's more modest roots. He had taken her away from her family and friends forcing her to conform to his rich circle of expansive business and social connections. At first she was excited by the lifestyle, she could live a life that few could afford. However it became all too superficial and shallow the further she became embroiled in it.

Her new wealthy friends would throw extravagant parties. She would go shopping to only the most exclusive of boutiques to buy expensive dresses for yet another function. The opulence of her new life had become intoxicating and distracted her from Paul's long stints away from home and the growing rumors of his infidelity.

Paul's departure had hit her like a sledgehammer. Although she knew she could survive on her own, he had after all spent precious little time with her over the last couple of years of their marriage, she found herself in a strange place mentally. Part of her beckoned a return to her much simpler roots, sell up, leave this unhappy place and get back to what she knew. The other half of her had forever been addicted to the extravagance, something which she could not let go of.

It was a shock to see the Berkshire's, life long friends of Paul's family and one of the wealthiest families in the country, still offer her an invitation to their annual ball. It was an even bigger shock that Sharon found herself accepting the gilded letter knowing the evening may prove uncomfortable. With a shot of renewed energy she left the large house that had formed her prison for the last two months and went in search of the perfect dress for the ball.

Sharon found the right dress and now found her feet gracefully climbing the steps at the entrance of the Berkshire's mansion. Two suited door men, resplendent in top hat and tails retrieved her invitation and escorted her to the cloakroom which had been setup just inside the main entrance. A ravishing young girl accepted her heavy fur jacket and politely complimented her on the clinging red dress that she wore underneath.

A mirror near at the end of the counter reflected Sharon's hard won body and exquisite taste in fashion. She was only thirty two, but captured the energy and exuberance of someone much younger, whilst still possessing the grace and dignity of a woman twice her age. She wore a full length lipstick red dress with an alluring yet tasteful part running up her right leg. Her bust was accentuated by the daringly low cut dress, held by two tiny spaghetti straps, and no back whatsoever.

The young girl at the counter smiled again and complimented her as she made a final check of her attire in the mirror. The bright light caught the invariable presence of the expensive diamond and gold jewelry which adorned her wrist, fingers and neck. With a small shot of confidence Sharon strode forward into the open ball room.

The ball room's expanse was impressive, already close to one hundred guests were mingling amongst each other. The impossibly scuff free polished floorboards provided a stark contrast to the sheer white European architecture of the surrounding room. A few indoor plants added to the ambience of the room, the walls heavily adorned by classical art pieces. Sharon had been here before but always found she was awestruck by the utter wealth and luxury which the Berkshire's surrounded themselves with. She gazed around the high set ceiling and the artwork near her, not yet having had opportunity to observe the crowd for anybody she knew.

Suddenly she was made aware of two people standing before her, trying to capture her attention. She turned to find it was the elderly Mr. and Mrs. Berkshire themselves, greeting the guests as they entered the room.

"Ah, Sharon my dear," announced Mrs. Berkshire, the frail old woman giving her a limp embrace before stepping back to her husband's side. "I was afraid you would not be coming tonight. What with all this business between Paul and yourself. It is good to see you here."

The mention of Paul's name brought a bitter taste to Sharon's mouth. It was soon followed by a sense of foreboding, a cringe that he may be in attendance spread through her. She realized that her hosts were now looking at her with a degree of unease because of her delay in replying to their greeting.

"Oh I'm sorry," pleaded Sharon. "It was lovely of you to invite me. I always look forward to the mid-summers ball. It is a highlight of the social calendar."

Mr. Berkshire gave her a suspicious nod. Mrs. Berkshire offered a cursory smile as she so often did. "Well it was nice seeing you again," greeted Mr. Berkshire, his wrinkled face showing no emotion or warmth to Sharon as he stepped past her to speak with another newly arrived guest. Mrs. Berkshire pulled free of his arm momentarily as she walked past.

"Don't worry dear. Plenty of people are looking forward to seeing you again. Don't let them get you down." With that Mrs. Berkshire disappeared behind Sharon, leaving her acutely aware that she was alone, and worse, that everyone knew about her separation.

Sharon stepped forward into the edge of the crowd. A few passing glances were cast in her direction. She tried to dismiss them as nothing but swore conversations stopped as she walked past, and only resumed once she had safely passed by. The atmosphere was unnerving as Sharon approached the bar that had been erected at the edge of the ballroom.

A number of tall glasses of champagne were lined across the bar, Sharon calmly taking one and having a sip hoping the effervescent drink would help sooth her worries. Again she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. There were some, but none that she knew particularly well, and none who even appeared to acknowledge her existence.

Sharon finished her glass of champagne quickly. The slight rush of alcohol gave her a fleeting distraction from her self consciousness and offered her a reason to cross the room before returning to the bar. She fished a second fully charged glass and decided to pace the length of the bar, hoping someone, anyone would invite her into their conversation.

It became apparent to her as she reached the opposite end of the bar that nobody was going to pay her any attention. She stopped and finished her second glass of champagne, clanging it down on the counter to draw a few glances. She smirked at one middle aged man who shook his head at the disturbance she had caused.

With a measured amount of disgust at her treatment, she turned to the young man behind the counter and demanded a fresh glass. He promptly poured her another drink and politely passed it to her, offering her a hint of a smile and rolled his eyes in the general direction of the obstinate man.

Sharon smiled back at the cheek of the tall twenty year old barman. He wore a neatly pressed white shirt and black pants, his well kept short bleach blonde hair framing his natural boyish looks well. She was caught by his intense gaze, complimented by a serious demeanor. Sharon playfully winked at the young man and turned back towards the crowd, a little reassured by his subtle support.

Still nobody approached her, leaving her alone and strangely insulated from their scheming. A noticeable stir broke out amongst the guests to her right. She turned to see what was causing all the commotion, only to be confronted by the piercing gaze of her husband. Paul remained totally impassive towards her, but his eyes conveyed his displeasure at seeing her there.

One of Paul's business partners took a firm grip of his shoulder and spun him back towards the small group and away from Sharon. A powerful sense of fear crept up through her body and for a moment she felt like turning and immediately heading for the door. It was quickly replaced by anger, how dare he act like that towards her, she had given up everything to be a part of his world, he wasn't going to simply exclude her from that at his own leisure.

She turned back towards the bar, only to be met again by the unemotional gaze of the young barman. He promptly placed a fresh glass of champagne on the counter and gave a brief smile to Sharon. She looked down and noticed the last remnants of her drink, with a quick swig it was gone giving her the opportunity to gratuitously accept the refill.

Sharon knew that the champagne was starting to have an inebriating effect on her. Her mind spun like a top as it tried to focus back on the here and now. The urge to leave the ball was more than a temptation; it was now the only thing she could think of. Paul would remain and make sure that nobody showed any courtesy towards her. His lies and deception would have ensured nobody believed a word she said.

The chilled bubbles soothed her anger as she lingered against the bar counter, her gaze fixated on the young barman confidently doing his duties. He looked up a couple of times whilst serving other guests to check whether she remained. Sharon wracked her slightly intoxicated brain trying to figure out whether she had met him before. He could not be any older than twenty which automatically put him in a different social class to her.

With an unrelenting curiosity Sharon approached the counter, placing her half empty glass down and staring directly at him. He took notice of her presence and rushed to finish shoveling ice in another person's drink. His attention turned to her, a fleeting smile again greeting her warmly.

"Have we ever met before?" asked Sharon in her normal eloquent voice. "I just had the strangest feeling we had."

"No, I'm afraid not. I would have remembered someone as beautiful as you," his voice had the strength of someone much older than his physical appearance would suggest. "My name is Steven."

"Oh, my name is Sharon. So we have never met before?"

Steven shook his head. Another guest barked an order at him forcing him to break off their conversation. Sharon watched as the middle aged woman, who clearly had already had too much to drink, complained about her last drink and demanded a better result. He set about shaking and stirring another drink, his eyes darting away from his chore to lock on Sharon momentarily.

The interest Steven was paying her gave her a warm feeling all over. It was not unusual for men to glance at her from time to time, but he seemed to have a standoffish charm which Sharon found curious and captivating. With a devilish thought Sharon leaned forward on the bar, framing her moderate sized breasts so they hung in an enticing display.

Steven turned back to her and waved another bartender to cover the next couple who had arrived for drinks. "So Sharon, what makes you think that we have met before?"

"I'm not sure, it just seems like I've met you somewhere before. I don't know why?"

"Well I can't think where. But I wish I had met you before," replied Steven with a flirtatious tone. "You look great in that dress tonight Sharon."

Sharon could feel herself blush a little at the younger man's coy behavior. She looked away from him momentarily but then returned her gaze to him. She batted her eyelashes returning the compliment which was not lost on Steven who smiled in turn. His gaze darted away from her and his smile reverted back to a serious look as he stretched his neck to tower above her, clearly trying to get the attention of someone else behind her. After a few nods and knowing looks he ducked back down and returned his interest solely to her. "Sorry about that."

Whilst Steven had been busy trying to pass on the unspoken message Sharon had snuck a quick look over her shoulder to see who had caught his attention. It was another one of the well dressed barmen who was holding a tray of drinks aloft and weaving his way through the crowd of guests. He was of a similar age to Steven and likewise had a closely cropped head of blonde hair. The white shirt and black vest of the bar staff seemed to suit him well.

"So Steven tell me about ..."

Suddenly Sharon felt a firm tug on her arm which was followed in quick succession by another yank as she turned to see who had grabbed hold of her. Her heart stopped as the dark figure of her husband Paul stood before her, his face casting an angry scowl.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed trying to keep his voice down and minimize the disruption. "Well? Speak."

Sharon was totally taken aback by her husband's actions and took a moment to compose herself. His stare pierce into her very soul. She stuttered trying to make a semblance of sense but stopped and tried to start again. Paul's grip on her forearm became tighter and Sharon tried to tug her arm away from him.

"I was invited and so I accepted ..."

"I don't care if you were invited," Paul stated bluntly his voice filled with rage. "These are my friends and you are no longer welcome here." Paul pushed a finger into his chest to emphasize his ownership of everything that surrounded them. "I suggest you leave immediately."

The painful grip on Sharon's arm grew as he waited for her response, satisfied that he had made his point forcefully enough. One of Paul's friends who had previously been speaking to him cut in between the two putting an arm across his chest and attempted to usher him away without making a scene. He muttered a few calming words to Paul as the two men slowly stepped back into the crowd, Paul's stare never leaving Sharon.

She felt totally naked in response to Paul's resentful remarks. Sharon tried to swallow, her throat totally parched. Her knees felt weak underneath her as she scanned her environs for even a tiny amount of support amongst the throng of people who encircled her.

The only thing Sharon felt she could do was leave, feeling totally violated and alienated by what had just occurred. With little fanfare she placed her unfinished drink back on the bar, tears beginning to swell in her eyes. She ducked her head down trying to avoid eye contact with any of the other guests as she weaved through those standing between her and the door.

A single tear breached her tough defenses and slid down her cheek. She snuck a quick hand to her face in an attempt to wipe the tear away hoping she could hold it all together. At least until she got out the front door and away from the prying eyes of Paul's friends. All of a sudden she stepped straight into the chest of a man who stood directly in front of her blocking her way to the exit.

"Going so soon?"

Sharon looked up to find it was the barman, Steven, standing over her. All her attempts to keep herself composed were for naught. He could see her eyes had welled up and that she was upset about something.

"Are you okay? I mean can I help you?" Steven struggled to say the right things confronted with an emotional Sharon, a woman who only seconds before he had been taking an interest in.

"You wouldn't understand," replied Sharon trying to push past him. His arm wrapped around her slender waist and he stopped her before she got any farther. "Please, just let me go."

"Has someone upset you? There is no need to go, please stay." Sharon was bolstered by the show of support but it still was not enough to make her reconsider. She looked at him wanting to respond when a second man joined pushed up beside her and whispered a few comments in Steven's ear. Sharon recognized him as the other barman that had been trying to get Steven's attention before.

The second barman cast a deep gaze at Sharon but his face remained impassive. Steven swept a fully charged glass of champagne off his tray and nodded for him to leave, a nod which was returned and the second man immediately disappeared. He presented the glass to Sharon.

"Surely things can't be that bad? Have a drink. I finish my shift soon. Maybe we could talk a little, I'm a good listener." He offered a cheeky smile, his eyes filled with empathy towards the older woman. "What do you say?"

Sharon was still overwhelmed by what had occurred, but found herself intrigued by the handsome barman. His voice and demeanor appeared genuine, his words proving convincing. With a reserved sip of champagne Sharon offered a subtle smile and intimated that she would stay a little longer.

"There is a sitting room just behind the bar area. Nobody is in there, I'll unlock it and if you'd like we can get away from the crowd and you can have a moment to yourself."

Sharon was not entirely sure she knew what Steven's motives were but she accepted his offer and with some trepidation stepped back toward the bar feeling his hand lightly touch the small of her back as he guided her past him. The two of them rounded the bar and Steven duly unlocked an old hardwood door which led to the spacious sitting room. He motioned for her to enter and whispered that he'd be back in a moment.

The room was dimly lit by the moonlight which fluttered through the sheer white cotton blinds. A large intricately woven rug sat in the center of the room, all the antique furniture pushed up against the plain white walls. A big ottoman sofa sat against the right wall dominating the room. A few bookcases and cabinets stood to her left. Sharon stepped further into the room taking the opportunity to look back out the window at the familiar shape of a full moon. She sipped on the last of her champagne and calmly placed it on one of the cabinets hoping not to make a noise.

Her gaze never left the full moon she could feel her fears begin to subside and some of her confidence to return. How dare that asshole speak to her in that way. What made him the center of the universe? Why did he presume he could tell her who she could and could not be friends with?

Soon Sharon's fragile emotions were replaced by her own anger streak and just the slightest desire to get some revenge for her public shaming. With one last look through the blinds Sharon had committed herself to doing just that. She turned blindly and took the first step back to reclaiming some of her dignity.

For the second time that night Sharon found herself abruptly running into Steven's hard body. She looked up, not looking to apologize on her behalf but demanding an apology from him. "What are you doing?" she fired at him with a stern voice. His hands gently cradled her elbows in a non-provocative way.

"Sorry, I was just coming to check on you. I didn't mean to startle you. What were you about to do?"

"What does it matter to you?" she hissed before realizing that Steven posed no threat. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I ... it's just that ... I'm so confused."

Sharon's tough exterior was short lived as she reverted back to feeling fragile and vulnerable. Her eyes began to well up again. She turned to look back out the window away from him, her hands cupping her face and shielding her from the stranger's gaze.

"Hey I'm on your side, I don't understand what is going on but I'm here if you need me," Steven's silky voice soothed Sharon's mood swings. His hands again gently rested on her hips, his upper body making slight contact with her shoulders in a very reserved embrace. Sharon did not know what to do but was reassured to know that someone was paying her attention. She peeled her hands away from her face with a couple of brief wipes.