The names of nominees were called out and the mic was passed onto the VIP that was to give out the award.
"We have great designers here in Dallas." The Blonde VIP said, smiling. Meticulously setting the mic in her hand, she looked at the crowd and continued. "The winner was chosen based on netizens' votes and of course, the brand's designs... Ladies and gentlemen, the award for the best fashion stylist in the city goes to Liam Stone."
"That's it!" Orla yelled from her seat, "Give it up for Liam." She roared, sipping from the cup of wine in her hand. She didn't drink alcohol, but she was trying out a new thing this evening.
A round of applause rumbled among the guests, honouring him as he took swift gaits to the stage to receive the award. He gave an appreciation speech and went back to sit down.
"Now, it's time to dance." The host was back to anchoring, "I'm certain you all invited your guests because we have so many activities left on our list. But for now, let's hit the dancefloor to celebrate Liam Stone."
Orla rushed to Liam's side after he crouched down. She was overwhelmed with excitement plus the alcohol was starting to unveil its impacts.
"A big congratulations to you, Liam." He took her hand and smiled. "I knew you'd win."
"Thank you, Orla." He let go and looked over to where Callan was seated. "Is he still mad?" He asked.
"I don't think so. So, do you want to dance?"
"Callan is here, you can dance with him, you know?" Liam was worried Callan would get angrier than he already was.
"I want to dance with you, to celebrate your win. So, shall we?" She smiled, blinking her puppyish eyes. "You know, Callan doesn't dance. He won't mind and besides, you said you were going to teach me a new step when you danced with me on my wedding day."
"Now, you get me. Come on, let's dance then." He took her hands, stirring her to the dance floor. "Dance with me, milady." He bowed gently, twirling her around.
"Tell me more about your passion for designing and how it feels to be the best in Dallas." She swayed to the side, matching his moves.
"Feels great, don't you think? More clients and more money. Aside from that, it's an honor and I am privileged. What about you? What do you enjoy doing?" He asked, spinning her around.
He bent a little to grab her waist and deter her from falling below his calculated steps. Orla wasn't very good at dancing, but she sure was learning well by imitating his steps.
"I don't know." The question was unexpected. At that moment, it hit her that she had never really thought of what to do. All her life, she'd been camped in the house and she thought it would forever be that way. That was what they made her believe. She never knew she'd be married someday. "I studied architecture in school though, top of my class, but I don't think I can work with it."
"Why not?" Liam slowed down, staring at her in surprise.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I had to go to school, and architecture was the only thing that piqued my interest. I just did it because I had to, not to make a living from it."
Callan had tried to allow his gaze to sweep above Liam and Orla moving to the solemn music that played, but it wasn't working. When he couldn't hold back anymore, he lumbered up from his chair and headed to where they were both standing, smiling and staring at each other like they were a couple.
"I guess my time is up," Liam let go of Orla’s hand as soon as he glimpsed Callan coming towards them. "You can have your woman." He said when he was right in front of them.
Callan took Orla's hands, clearly uninterested in dancing, but he wasn't going to let his best friend have his wife all to himself. "You can leave now, I want to dance with my wife."
"She's all yours." Liam smiled.
"Congratulations on your award, I expected that," Callan said, looking back at Orla who was still grinning from ear to ear.
Orla smiled. "We will continue our discussion some other time, Liam. Thanks for dancing with me."
Liam nodded, moving away from them. He grabbed the waist of a Blondie and walked away with her.
"I didn't know you dance." Orla looked at her husband, her small hands tightly clasped on his large ones. He towered above her, dominating her without a word. She breathed hard, drooping her head. Just everything about him was adorable.
He swayed to the left and she did too. She smiled, fixing her eyes on his shoes, careful not to step on his toes.
"What are you doing?" He asked in a stern voice.
"I don't want to step on your shoes. I don't want to hurt you, I am not very good and I fear I might step on you." She retorted, eyes still on his shoes.
"You didn't do that with Liam." He frowned.
"Liam held me gently and there was no scowl on his face."
"Really?” Callan scoffed, losing his tight grip to a moderate one. "What were you two discussing that needs to continue another day?" His gaze softened but not because of her.
"Things you don't care about." Orla spun around, landing back on his chest.
His eyes burned into hers, setting her heart aflutter. She wavered, fixing herself before she inhabited that feeling.
Her response sent a sharp pain to his chest. He didn't care about her and it shouldn't mean a thing to him because he chose not to.
"I see," he drawled.
"Yes." The dance continued in silence. The music was loud enough but within them, silence took over. She could feel his gaze on her, steamy and scorching. But she didn't raise her head to look up at him. "You dance well." The alcohol effects, she thought.
He said nothing to her. He moved to the beats and they went on and on for ten more minutes.
"Callan, why do you always show up for me?" She suddenly asked, letting go of her hands from his. "You hate me, you don't care about me but you always come through for me even when I don't ask you. Why?"
He stalled for a minute, then he looked at her and said. "I have never seen anyone complain about other people helping them."
She laughed softly, scolding herself for drinking that night. She wasn't sure how to behave now that she was partially tipsy. "I am not complaining, I am saying thank you instead. Thanks for all that you do for me."
"What else do you want to talk about?" He took her warm hands again. He was gradually getting used to taking her hands and she loved it too.
"Why don't you desire my body?" The question came out with a warning. She didn't plan to ask him this way. She had harboured it in her mind for too long. Since the day she wore those lingeries and felt a strange sensation between her legs, the day Callan stroked her folds with his magical fingers. She wanted more and to have it, she had to talk to him about it. All thanks to the alcohol, she was high-spirited and could boldly talk about it. "Is there something that I am not doing well? Or is there something that I should do well for you to desire my body?"