"Aunt Bertha? Are you home?" Mel called out, elbowing Jack in the side everytime she tried to force herself in front of her. "Come on, quit it!" She hissed, pushing Jack back again. "Is that my beautiful niece’s voice I hear?" Came an elderly voice from down the hallway. She took that as an invitation, and opened the door all the way and stepped inside. She took off her coat placed it on the coat rack next to the front door Jack had just now closed. "I’m here Aunt Bertha, where are you?" She called out, descending down the hall, her roommate not too far behind. "In the sitting room." She walked into the sitting room seeing her Aunt lying back in her lazy chair, as she liked to call it, smoking a thin cigarette from a filter. It was one thing for her to smoke, but her ninety-year-old aunt shouldn’t still be smoking.

"Aunt Bertha, I thought you were going to quit smoking?" She pointed out. Her Aunt looked at her, a stern glare in her wise eyes. "Are you kidding me dear? I’m old enough and lived my life through already, If I want to smoke myself to death let me. Who needs to watch their health?" She just sighed, irritated as she heard Jack snickering behind her. As soon as they got out of the house, Jack would start calling her a hypocrite. It always happened like that. "Did you want Jack and I too take you shopping today Aunt Bertha?" She asked, running her hand through her messy hair. "Actually, no. I have a problem dear's. Some of the gals and I were going to go to that Van Gogh exhibit in Manhattan tonight, but Susie has to go to her daughter’s 60^th birthday party, and Mary Lou came down with bronchitis or something like that. So I was wondering if you two would be so kind as to escort an old woman like me. It would be uncanny for me to go all by myself."

She didn’t find that a very appealing idea, but she didn’t know how to say no to her aunt. It was her aunt for godsakes; others would damn most people for turning down an old woman. "We’d love to go Ms. Brennan!" Jack exclaimed, excitement bursting through her voice. Well that takes care of that, she thought sarcastically to herself. Putting a smile on her face, she nodded in agreement. "Wonderful! Now, we will have to go shopping than. It’s a formal thing, and we all must look our best." With a small sigh, she trudged after her aunt and a thrilled Jack out the door.

* * *

"Thank you." She watched the valet escort her grandmother out of the cab that pulled up in front of the Manhattan art center (A.N. I don’t know if this actually exists, I just made it up out of my head. I know NOTHING about New York or Manhattan.) She pulled herself out of cab on the other side, not really knowing such formalities, and the ones she did know were from Jack. Her aunt shot her a quick look as she saw what she had done. She just shrugged, adjusting her dress. They had been in and out of stores all afternoon, and she was extremely stressed and tired, and hoped that the exhibit would ease her down.

Her aunt picked out the dresses for her and Jack, and since her aunt had always been a flashy woman they were sure to turn some heads. She felt so uncomfortable in the black and red gown covered with dark flowery lace all over. Her breasts were practically falling out of the dress, and her aunt had assured her that was how the dress was made. Of course, Jack was wearing something that fixated on all her curves, and really showed off her youthful tan. The stunning *Brooke Daniel’s* had on a short mini dress, with strapless black heels that accented the curve of her ankles. At least Jack was wearing something she could walk in, she felt like she was wearing blankets. Her aunt was decked out in slacks, and an elegant blouse. She was happy that she at least wasn’t overdressed. This was normal attire for an occasion like this. People would circle the exhibit than relocate into a massive ballroom for wine and cheese sticks, where usually an orchestra would be playing. Than, people would pair off and dance the evening away.

"C’mon Mel darling, we don’t want to be late." Her Aunt Bertha pointed out, walking ahead of her, Jack not too far behind. She trailed slowly behind, feeling uncomfortable. When they reached the exhibit a few moments later she gasped in surprise. It was wonderful. They all spent a full hour admiring the works of art, taking in everything, the color, the density, the shadings, it was all too unbearable. She seriously thought Jack was going to pass out. She kept complaining about how she would never be as great as Van Gogh, and that wasn’t much help to her self-esteem.

After they scanned the exhibit, ooing and awing, they took their places in the ballroom. She looked around the room, seeing tons of people there, rich, businessmen with their wives, or daughters. "Oh man Mel, this is incredible. I don’t know we got so lucky, but this is great!" Jack exclaimed, practically hugging her from all that excitement. She could only smirk slightly, not entirely thrilled or interested. Her Aunt wasn’t very exciting, and she could be at home finishing her screenplay. "Oh my gosh, look! It’s Billy and Brian!" My head shot up at the name "Brian" and I followed the direction Jack’s finger was pointing. They were courting a woman each on their arms. Both she did not recognize but she assumed the one on Mr. Littrell’s shoulder was his fiancée’ and indeed she had made the right assumption about her. She was dressed elegantly in white, her perfect hair cascading against her cheeks. She smiled professionally up at her husband, obviously knowing her place well.

She couldn’t help but sigh loudly in irritation and she folded her arms, not following Jack when she made her way over to the four. Instead, she found an empty table and sat down, taking a drink of the water placed before her. It was kind of shocking to see Mr. Littrell there. She really had not expected to run into him again anytime soon. But yet, there he was, eighty feet away from her, looking tall and proud, playing his part. Gawd, she wanted him. He was sporting a black suit, not a wrinkle on his clothed body. She could see his biceps peeking out of the arms of the jackets. She was so turned on by just looking at him. It was as if…he was seducing her, and he wasn’t even aware she was there.

She watched the five like a hawk as Jack spoke with them. She apparently was a hit with the two ladies they were sporting because their smiles were wide, and they were laughing hysterically. She sighed; now HER self-esteem was lowering. Wait, she never had self-esteem to begin with, so what does it matter that she felt a little worse? She was always jealous of the way Jack could make people laugh and instantly think she was the greatest thing in the world. She couldn’t even make herself laugh, which was sad. She stared down at the tablecloth now, occasionally sipping her water, wallowing in her own misery. She hated these damn party things. Her aunt got more action than she did, and it was all because she lacked the confidence. Damn, it sucked. A husky, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts of pity for herself.

"Well hello, we meet again." She looked up and couldn’t believe it, but yet, she could. They always came over when you looked lonely and sad. Or maybe he really wanted to say hi and didn’t REALLY feel sorry for her. His blue eyes twinkled at her, and her heart thumped. Damn, that face is like heaven. She thought to herself. Realizing she was gawking, she sat up from her clumsy position quickly, and held out her hand. "So we do, Mr. Littrell." He smiled, taking her hand and kissing it, causing her to blush. She was acting like she was in high school again. He noticed this, and chuckled softly. "Why are you blushing so? Did I embarrass you?" He asked her in wonderment. That only caused her to blush more. She felt so young and innocent around him. It was horrible and left her feeling vulnerable.

"Well, you know, you look like a lobster when you blush." Her head shot up and she gasped suddenly, looking at him in surprise not believing he just said that. He laughed loudly at that, and pulled her up. "Come, this is a beautiful song, and I want to dance with you." It was more like a command than an offer, but she followed him across the floor anyway. He pulled her into a crowd of other dancers and into his arms. She looked up at him nervously, and than around the room for that woman he was with. She felt like if they were caught, some controversy would pop up. "You look nervous." "Me? Nervous? No, I just had some wine earlier, and I’m a little flushed." She lied. He could see she was lying too, but let it go, and just kept smiling. They were dancing formally of course, but she wished they weren’t. She wanted her body pressed against his instead of their bodies a few inches apart from one another. "So tell me, how did you come about coming to one of these functions?" Her eyebrows raised at his question. "Well what kind of question is that? You know Brooke is into art." "Well yes, but I was told you didn’t go to functions like these by Ms. Lane herself, so I’m wondering what she did to get you here."

"My Aunt. The elderly lady I was with earlier. She had tickets to this and her friends cancelled out on her, so I guess we were her next choice. Obviously, Brooke was very happy to oblige, but me, I had to come, I don’t know how to say no to my aunt, so I went." "Well it is nice that you did come, I was wondering if I would ever see you again." She could not help but blush, again, and did so, causing another Littrell chuckle. "I don’t see how this amuses you Mr. Littrell." "Oh believe me, if you were in my shoes you’d be laughing too." She thought about it, and supposed she would. But it left her shaky, knowing he had the upper hand, and some odd control over her.

The song ended, and she was about to turn away from him, when he tightened his hold on her. "Wait, I thought we were going to dance." He pointed out. "We did Mr. Littrell." "Just one more dance." She sighed, looking into his blue eyes and nodded slightly, easing into his arms once again. Not knowing whether to be happy she was back in his arms or not.