Scot on the Rocks

lifting Ava up.

“Our lips are sealed,” I said as the blonde began to spray Evian water on Ava’s face. It seemed to do the trick because Ava was able to walk out of the ladies’ room almost completely on her own.

“Alas,” Vanessa said as they left, turning to me, “the emperor is wearing no clothes.”

“She’s an emp-ress,” I corrected, reapplying the lipstick Damian had given me.

“No, I’m talking about the children’s story, The Emperor’s New Clothes.”

“You know, I never really understood that story. What kind of story are they telling to kids that ends with some pedophile running around town naked?”

“I think that you’re missing the point of the story, Brooke.”

21

Maybe Vanessa is right. Maybe nothing is perfect. Maybe nothing is what it seems. Relationships certainly aren’t perfect. They’re never even close.

Douglas wasn’t perfect. Everything had to be his way or the highway, and even that wasn’t good enough for him in the end. So, why was I still chasing him? Why was I spending all this time trying to get him back?

Trip certainly wasn’t perfect. He had been so busy constantly trying to outdo me that he never really took the time to get to know me.

And Danny’s idea of a fun night at home was torturing small animals. Not to mention the major mother issues going on there that it still hurts my brain to think about.

So, then, I suppose marriage can’t be perfect. I mean, marriage is just one big relationship, so how can it possibly be perfect?

Jack grabbed my hand and took me out onto the dance floor the second I got back to the table. We danced and he was dangerously close. I could smell his aftershave and felt it go down my spine. I didn’t pull away. The band played an old song that I didn’t know and Jack sang along to it in my ear. My arms wrapped around him, I turned my faux engagement ring around my finger.

This time, I was determined not to spoil the mood. I just took it all in. The couples danced around the dance floor like tiny little tops, perfectly aligned, spinning around but never bumping into one another. The men, all dapper in black tuxedos and white dinner jackets, the women, splashes of vibrant color in reds and pinks and yellows and golds. As we spun around, the sweet smell of the lilies and roses hit me.

The moment was perfect. Maybe Jack was a little perfect, too.

“I’m having such a good time with you,” I whispered into his ear.

“So, does that mean that I’m doing a good job trying to be more good-looking?”

“Wow,” I said, taken aback. “How long have you been waiting to throw that one back in my face?”

“A long time,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah?” I said, trying to sound sexy.

“Yeah, most of the reception, I’d say,” he said, pinching my waist. I giggled like a little girl. “And, don’t think that it was easy to work that into conversation.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I said. “I happen to think that you are very good-looking.”

“Is this the part where you say ‘in a platonic way?’” he asked and my mouth fell to the floor. “That one I’ve been waiting to use since Barneys,” he said. I laughed. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I’m not really accustomed to a man listening all that closely to anything that I say,” I said, looking out onto the dance floor.

“I listen to everything that you say,” he said, turning my face to his with his finger, suddenly very close to me again.

“You do, don’t you?” I asked as he leaned into me. He shook his head yes slowly as he leaned in a little more. I couldn’t believe it. We were going to kiss. I was going to kiss Jack. Or, Jack was going to kiss me! Either way, it was happening right this very minute — we were going to kiss!

I closed my eyes and lifted my head to his, but was abruptly brought back to reality by a familiar voice.

“May I cut in?” Mrs. Martin asked. Our faces simultaneously turned away from each other to look at her. “Douglas, dear, do you think that your fiancée would mind if I borrowed you for a dance?”

Mind? Yes, of course I mind! Don’t I look like I mind? Couldn’t she see that we were just about to kiss? Granted, she thinks that we are engaged and thus do that sort of thing all the time (or one should hope!), but the fact remains that we are not and we do not! I most certainly mind!

“Why, of course not!” Jack said, in his perfect Scottish accent. “Thank you very much for asking! Brooke, you remember Mrs. Martin from cocktail hour, don’t you?”

“I most certainly do,” I said.

“May I say, Brooke, you’ve got a real keeper here,” she said.

“Yes, she does,” Jack said, looking over his shoulder to me as he took Mrs. Martin’s hand to dance.

“Don’t you just love the accent?” she added in a stage whisper.

“Who wouldn’t?” I stage whispered back as Mr. Martin took my hand.

“So, how did you two lovely young people meet?” Mr. Martin asked me as we began to dance. His hands were rough to the touch, like someone who has had to work hard his whole life, but his nails were neatly manicured, like a lady who lunches.

“We work at the same law firm,” I said.

“An office romance?” Mrs. Martin said over her shoulder, spinning Jack around so that she could look at me. “My, my! Our daughter is always telling us that it’s inappropriate to date someone in your office nowadays. That it’s somewhat taboo.”

“Funny you should mention that, Mrs. Martin,” Jack said, taking back the lead. “That’s the reason that Brooke and I didn’t get together at first.”

“You don’t say?” Mrs. Martin asked, intrigued.

“Our firm had a silly little policy about interoffice dating,” Jack said.

“It makes sense if you think about it,” I said. “The office gossip mill could kill any good relationship, and if it doesn’t last, then you have to see that person every day.” Mrs. Martin shook her head in agreement as if she had heard this same line of reasoning before from her daughter. “And, of course, it’s hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman.” Mrs. Martin continued to nod.

“Yes, dear, I see your point,” Mrs. Martin said, “but finding true love is worth the risk, isn’t it?” I looked over to Jack and found him looking at me. I tried to formulate a response, but couldn’t help but think that I agreed. All this time, I’d been wasting my time pining away for a cad like Douglas when I had a wonderful guy right here in front of me. What on earth had I been thinking?

“Well, with all due respect, Brooke,” Mr. Martin said, “I always thought that working together was a stupid reason not to date someone.” I looked over at Jack in his kilt and smiled. He was smiling, too.

It didn’t matter what I had been thinking in the past. Now I had my head screwed on straight. I was going to go after what I wanted — what I deserved — from now on and nothing was going to stand in my way.

“I’m beginning to think the same thing myself, Mr. Martin,” I said.

“Beginning to think so?” Mr. Martin replied. “You mean you thought so. You two are engaged already!” He and Mrs. Martin both laughed.

“Yes, thought so,” I said, laughing along with the Martins. “I just meant that I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Jack and I locked eyes. The song ended and we all stood and applauded for the band. They cued up another number and Mrs. Martin grabbed Jack’s arms to dance another dance.

“So, Douglas,” Mrs. Martin said to Jack, “perhaps you can show me a traditional Scottish dance?”

“Yes, I would love to do that sometime!” he said.

“There’s no time like the present, Douglas. Show me some moves,” she said, grabbing his arms and moving