Geoff
Savannah was dressed to the
nines – her hair pulled to one side, so that gentle curls of auburn were draped over the delicate curve of her exposed shoulder, smiling at the man who was standing in front of her. The smile should have been genuine, since most women were more than thrilled to get all dressed up, and wear suicide heels and bat their lashes at people, but she was just trying not be rude as the older gentleman rambled on about some sort of auction he had attended, where he had been the highest bidder on an old set of peacock quills. She lifted her brows to feign interest, and nodded her head along with what he was saying before she lifted her glass of champagne to her lips, taking a long, much needed sip before she lowered her glass and rolled her lips under, careful not to smudge her lipstick.
She did enjoy getting all dressed up, but…Savannah had always been the type of girl who would much rather be hanging around in jeans and a t-shirt, and had always been the one to be wrestle around in the mud with the guys instead of taking ballet lessons, or doing something else little girls were supposed to do. Having a twin brother definitely had an impact on her hobbies and interests, so standing there in a dress wasn’t really…
her. The only reason she had come was because she felt obligated, since it was for a good cause, and because someone in particular had decided to join her.
That person met her eyes the next time she took a glance out to the crowd, and his soft blue eyes held her attention, this time smiling genuinely for the first time since she had been standing there listening to the old man. She would turn to her company, not wanting to appear rude, like she was completely ignoring him. After she realized he wasn’t going to stop talking unless she said something, she reached out to place a hand on his arm.
“I’m so sorry, will you please excuse me?”
A kind smile, and the old man nodded, warranting another smile (thankful, and apologetic this time), finally able to turn away from him to approach the Quidditch star who had been stopped by a few fans – sports writers, who she had
tried to warn him again – stopping once she found a place in the small circle he had been standing in, gently clearing her throat to get the group’s attention
“I hope I’m not interrupting….”
Oh, she knew she was, but she didn’t care. Her eyes locked onto Geoff Brand’s, her target, stepping towards him so she could place a hand on his arm.
“Mind if I borrow you?”
