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And in the day, I kept thinking about you, and the dreams, and –’ she broke off and looked up, still very red in the face and apparently on the verge of tears. ‘And I just want you so much, James, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.’ I jumped to my feet and went to her. She stood up and almost fell into my arms and I felt sobs shaking her body. Finally she composed herself a little and sank back into the chair, drying her eyes while her face slowly returned to its normal colour. ‘But James, darling,’ she protested, ‘I admit you’ve seen through me but you still don’t expect me to believe this absurd story about Uncle Albert’s potion.’ I decided to put the ball in her court. ‘Well, Fran, you tell me. What proof would you accept?’ ‘Oh, very clever,’ she said, her spirit returning by the minute. ‘Push it back at me. All right, then,’ she challenged, ‘do it in front of me. Call some woman in here and put your whammy on her.’ I could see this was not intended seriously but even so the. Oh. My. Geez. It’s an invitation to a gala ball at the dean’s house on Saturday. It says only the top 5% of the Art History Department’s students were invited. Invitation only. Formal dress is required.” “Holy cow, what are you going to wear? Shit, what am I going to wear?” “Wait, what are you talking about Ellie? Why are you worried about what you’re gonna wear?” “Well, it says you can RSVP +1. Who else would you invite to this fancy parrtay? So do the math.. I am your date. You’re welcome.” *** The room was bathed in soft lighting while a quiet selection of jazz music played in the background. It was a beautiful night, not a cloud in the sky, and the night air was crisp in his lungs and felt comfortable against his skin. Colin had arrived early in hopes of getting in and getting out as quickly as possible, but it seemed fate had other ideas. He was standing on the patio talking to the Dean of the Art Department when he saw her. She was standing there in a long lacy navy blue dress.
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