1
Jameson
“Stop fussing with it.” My mom smacks my hand away like I’m a child.
“It’s fucking choking me.” I pull on the bowtie, letting it come undone. She rolls her eyes at me.
“Watch your mouth.” She scolds me but there’s no power in her tone. A few people turn to look at us. I don’t care if they stare. I am here for one reason and one reason only. My mom wants me here. She’s the only person in the world that could get me to come to a ballet.
At least that’s what I think it is. It could be a musical. I almost groan out loud, thinking about how boring this shit is going to be. It doesn’t matter, though, because either way, I am going to sit and watch it because it’s what my mother wants. I’ll just have to hope I survive being bored out of my mind.
“I just can’t wait for you to see this. You’re going to eat those words about this being boring. Then you’ll get all pissy about the lack of shows Bunny Rose puts on.” I don’t think I’ve ever been pissy about anything in my life. Especially about someone with a ridiculous name.
“Wait. Is this a burlesque show?” With a name like Bunny Rose I’m going to guess yes. The last thing I want to do is sit through a burlesque show. Especially since I’d be watching it while sitting next to my mom in the front row. This night is starting to sound worse by the second.
“What! No.” She smacks my chest, shaking her head at me. “People are listening to us. You’re being ridiculous.” She raises her glass of champagne to her mouth, taking a sip. People are looking but that’s not abnormal for me. I am what they call new money in a world full of old money.
The wealth of Dallas doesn't much like that I don’t fall in line with the rest of the wealthy. But they have no choice but to rub their elbows with my dirt covered ones. Except for tonight. I cleaned up before I took my mom out. Even though I like to give her a hard time, she knows that I’ll do anything for her. I can’t say no when it comes to her.
“I don’t care if they stare.” I throw back the rest of my scotch, wondering when they are going to let us into the theater. I wouldn't mind sitting for a few hours. I’ve been on my feet all day. At least I won’t have to worry about my phone or anything else. I can use this as down time, zone out a bit and try to relax. I snag another champagne glass, handing it to my mom. She takes it from my hand as I drop her empty one down onto the tray.
“Ms. Price, how are you this evening?” Samuel Johnson takes my mom's hand, kissing it.
“I told you to call me Rebecca, Sam.”
“I should have known you’d be here.” He smiles at my mom. I’m still not sure how I feel about Sam. You’d have to be a few beers short of a six-pack to not pick up on that.
“I reckon you’re here because you thought she might be here.” Sam doesn't flinch at me jabbing him.
“Maybe so.” He kisses my mom’s hand again that he’s still holding. I notice my mom’s cheeks pinken and I know I’ll be getting an earful later. The lights overhead start to flash, letting us know it’s time for us to head in. The doors open for everyone to pour inside. “I’ll see you after the show, Rebecca.” He lets my mom’s hand go before stepping back. Both my mom and I watch him walk over to a young girl. I’m pretty sure it’s his granddaughter. It better fucking be.
“Wipe that ridiculous look off your face. It’s his daughter.”
“He’s sweet on you.”
“Who wouldn't be sweet on me?”
I chuckle at how forward she is. “You’re right.” I offer her my arm.
“He’s scared of you.”
“He should be.” He didn't seem to be scared when he strolled over here and began kissing her. I’m not sure if I’m flattered that he fears me or not. I guess if he did, I’d have to give him points for still coming over. If he wants a chance with my mom he better be willing to work for it. If he isn't then he doesn’t deserve her. Anything you want in life is worth fighting for. That’s how I look at things anyway.
“Take me to my seat. I can’t wait for you to see this.” I guide her into the massive theater. I can’t believe that a ballet could sell this place out. My Superbowl tickets cost less than this. “She only does a handful of shows a year. I hear she’s shy.”
“Shy?” This place has to hold over two thousand people.
“I guess when you’re the best you can get away with only doing a few shows. That doesn’t mean she’s not shy. Something you know nothing about.” She gives me a playful hit with her elbow to my side. I don’t have a shy bone in my body. If I want to say something, I say it. If I want to do something, I do it. I really don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me. It’s why being successful is so important to me. There’s no one to answer to but myself.
I did okay in life before I stumbled upon oil on my land. I struck black gold without even looking for it. I went from a cowboy to a billionaire in the blink of an eye. It doesn’t matter how much money I have, I’ll never stop being a cowboy. I still favor getting dirty out in the fields more than a boardroom.
“She dances?”
My mom takes her seat. I follow suit, thinking their chairs are too damn small. It is still hard to believe that someone pays this much to see someone dance. Whether it’s with her clothes on or off, I’m still not interested. I don’t see the appeal but I know saying that out loud will only get me a scolding from my mom so I keep that thought to myself.
“You can call it dance if you like. You just have to see her. She’s a violinist too. She is truly gifted.” Lovely. There is going to be music too. I feel a headache coming on already. “You better smile. We’re in the front row. Don’t you dare give this girl that look of yours. Change your face to make it look accepting and open. I know it's hard for you.” My ribs should hurt from all the little jabs my mom has been giving me tonight.
“What look?”
My mom rolls her eyes at me trying to feign innocence. “I’ll whoop you in front of all these people. I don’t care.” I know she doesn't. She is better at the whole being social thing than I am. She could run in the inner circles when and if she wanted to.
“I know exactly who I got the attitude from.” I chuckle, making her laugh with me. A woman in all black works her way down to the front row, stopping to talk with each group of people. The lights overhead blink again but less this time, letting everyone know it's the final warning to take your seat. A few excited squeals ring out in the room from women in the audience.
“It’s almost time.”
“I can’t believe we got tickets.”
“She is breathtaking.” This time it’s a man I hear. I sit up a little straighter, feeling irritated. The woman in all black moves to stand in front of my mom and me. She shifts and I see a badge on her hip but my eyes flick to the gun she has mostly hidden within her suit coat.
“We request that you not get up during the show. That you wait for intermission.”
“Why?”
“That’s fine.” My mom elbows me again. “I read the note on the tickets.” The woman stops glaring at me to give my mom a warm smile.