Free Still Falling by Bella Costa Page A

almost invisible and then I watch.   Once I’ve established the lay of the land I
pick out which couples would be the easiest to get stuck with at a table for a
few hours and just before the party starts I go over, start up a conversation
and keep it going until we’re   seated.”
    “Crafty.   Do you
think we could pick a table with a lush redhead?”
    “Like I said...lets size things up.” Serena replied,
exasperated.
    They wondered off to one of the old marble stair cases
that led to the galleries, but now just served as a reminder of the buildings
previous purpose.   Standing on the third
step, just high enough to give them a good view over the mill of heads but not
enough that they put themselves on stage, they surveyed the crowd.
    “Peacock blue dress, near the marble
horse!”
    “Oh no,” giggled Serena.   “Her husband would buy you concrete boots and
take you swimming off his yacht.”
    “She might be worth the risk.”
    “No chance.   What
about Brunette in need of chest support.   Ten o’clock.”
    “Far too much for my liking.   A handful is more than enough.”
    “Fussy aren’t we?”
    “Serena, how about tux at three
o’clock?”
    “There are thirty tuxes at three o’clock and I thought
we were looking for potential girlfriends.   I didn’t realise you were that way inclined?”
    “Actually, it hasn’t passed my attention that you are
single, so this one is for you.   There
leaning against the Marble horse.”
    Serena sought out the Statue in question.   Marco was leaning against the pedestal deep
in conversation with the actress Michelle.   Her long manicured fingers constantly moved between his shoulders and
arms making it clear to anyone watching that she was claiming her
territory.  
    Marco kept one hand in a pocket and the other occupied
with a small glass of amber liquid.   After a few moments he stood upright and removed his hand from his
pocket.   Seconds later the hand was
sweeping up to his brow, to brush back an imaginary lock of hair with his
fingers.   Why do all the impossible men
have to be so damn attractive? She groaned inwardly.
    “Tony, are you suffering brain damage?”
    “The last time I checked it was all there and
working.   Why?”
    “That arrogant jackass, knocked your lights out!”
    “I know!” Tony said grinning.   “That’s why I choose him.   He knows how to protect his women.”
    “Well in that case I think you need to consider green
and black pant suit coming in the door.”
    “What? Why?    She
is huge.” He said in alarm.
    “Now, now Tony.   Don’t be rude.   She is not huge.   She is strong.   And as Napoli’s
favourite professional female wrestler, she should be able to protect her
man.”   They kept up the light banter for
the next ten minutes while Serena made every effort not to allow her gaze to
drift back towards the marble horse.
    Marco wasn’t ready to mingle just yet.   Leaving that to Michele who was more than
willing, he had drifted from the foyer to the main hall.   He stood near the bar, slightly off to one side
and watched the crowd filter through slowly.   In a few minutes everyone would be seated, the lights would dim, the
outfits being auctioned would be modelled and the auction would begin.   This would be the easy part.   He wouldn’t be expected to chat mindlessly
during this time as everyone’s attention would be focused on the show.  
    He had hired Spirit, a very popular middle aged pop
star from Rome,
as Master of Ceremonies to run the show and keep the audience entertained.   All he needed to do now was find his way to
his seat without being accosted.   Michelle loved the crowds a lot more than he did and had been mingling
as hostess for ages now.   He checked the
door.   The steady stream of guests had
slowed down to a trickle and most of the tables were full.   Taking a deep breath he prepared to step out
of the shadows.   At that moment Serena
stepped through the door.  
    She