Free Amber Frost by Suzi Davis Page A

pretending to listen to their debate. My mother wasn’t fooled.
    “You should be on your best behavior tonight, Grace,” she told me sternly, ignoring Sebastian once more. “You could have made more effort to prepare; you didn’t even curl your hair and I can barely tell if you’re wearing makeup! If we hadn’t been in such a rush I would have made you change into something more appropriate too. That dress would be better suited for a funeral! And with your washed-out complexion you look like you could be the corpse yourself,” she hissed. A rosy blush flamed across my cheeks in shame. Not only was I hurt by my mother’s accusation of my lack of effort but I was even more ashamed to be berated this way in front of Sebastian. “Now don’t you dare embarrass us tonight,” she continued, fixing me with a hard glare.
    “You’re embarrassing yourself enough as it is,” Sebastian murmured in a low though obviously angry voice. My mother’s sharp eyes shifted to him. I winced; this was going to be bad.
    “What did you just say?” she demanded. Her thin lips were pursed together in distaste as she glared expectantly at him, her hazel eyes were sharp and threatening.
    Sebastian opened his mouth as if he were about to answer, his expression unexpectedly apologetic. Before he could say a word though, a waiter walking behind my mother with a tray full of drinks suddenly slipped on some unseen object. The tray flew from his hands as he fell, the crystal glasses of wine launching into the air and drenching my mother as one landed right in her lap. There was a moment of shocked silence as the dark, red wine soaked into my mother’s creamy, silk dress, the wine spreading rapidly like blood from a wound. Then everything happened at once.
    The waiter jumped up and began rapidly apologizing; my mother was speechless in her rage. Others moved towards her to offer assistance and she quickly managed to compose herself, graciously accepting the waiter’s apologies and trying to laugh at the turn of events but I could see the hidden fury in her eyes. My father reluctantly suggested he drive her home so that she might change. I watched in all happen in stunned silence. I couldn’t take my eyes from the spot where the waiter had tripped. There was nothing on the ground; the rich, red carpet was smooth and flat. It shouldn’t have happened. And why were the Jensons looking at Sebastian with such exasperated disapproval? Could he possibly have had something to do with this? No, I was being absurd. But how had that glass of wine ended up in my mother’s lap? Its trajectory couldn’t have been more specific if the waiter had thrown the glass himself. And not a single drop had touched me though I’d been seated only inches from my mother the whole time. It didn’t make any sense.
    “Grace, I’m going to take your mother home to change.” My father’s deep voice interrupted my paranoid thoughts. “You should stay here; Clarke won’t want you to leave and I’m sure the Simons will keep an eye on you. We should be back in time for the dancing.”
    “Yes, father,” I automatically agreed. I tried to keep the sudden surge of excitement from showing on my face. I no longer cared how the waiter had tripped or how the wine had soaked my mother, for things couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. I might even enjoy the Gala a little with my parents absent and I would certainly enjoy Sebastian’s company once I was no longer under my mother’s critical and accusing eye. My mother stared at me suspiciously.
    “Perhaps we should move you over to the Simons’ table. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind making room for you,” she suggested.
    “No, let’s not disrupt the evening any further. We’re quite happy to entertain Grace here until you return,” Mr. Jenson quickly interjected. My father seemed pleased by this but my mother looked even more sour as my father led her away. I glanced across the dance floor to the Simons’