Even those who seriously disliked him (which probably amounted to at least half of the employees of SomeRandom Organization) had to admit that Dexter Carrington-Ewing knew how to throw a party. No expense had been spared, no corner had been left undecorated, no cocktail had been left off the list although a couple had been renamed at his P.A.’s insistence “You are not calling a cocktail THAT no matter how funny the look on his face would be” so the bar tender called it a “Good Job” instead.
A jazz quartet provided a pleasant backdrop for the back slapping, back biting and gossip that made up the general hum of conversation. The men were dressed in black tie and the women in a startling array of designer cocktail dresses that left varying degrees to the imagination, with varying success.
Isabel looked stunning, her figure hugging Alexander McQueen dress showed off enough curve and leg to provoke interest but remain decent at the same time. Her hair shone to perfection and her diamond earrings glittered. Her make up was sexy without being overdone.
She took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped without actually drinking any, surveying the room. Several people turned to look as she passed them, she nodded serenely at them, as she walked away they whispered to each other “Who on earth is that?” to which the most common answer was “I have no idea.. does she work here?”
She found a vacant seat near the front of the stage and sat down. Suddenly the jazz quartet stopped playing, the conversation hushed and the lights dimmed. There was a smattering of half hearted applause as Dexter Carrington-Ewing took the stage. He proceeded to make a very long winded speech that no one listened to, largely about how fabulous he was.
“But enough about me” he grinned.
“Thank God for that” someone muttered
“It give me great pleasure” Dexter continued ignoring the remark “to introduce tonight’s special guests, who need no introduction. The world famous classical crossover group, of which at least one is still single.. Ladies and Gentlemen… IL DIVO”
Isabel shot to her feet, clapping and whooping enthusiastically, everyone else just sat and looked at her.
“At least someone’s heard of us” muttered David. The other three tried not to laugh.
“Now these fine gentlemen can’t wait to entertain us all tonight isn’t that right? Especially the ladies hehehe”
A boyish grin was grinned, a twinkly pair of eyes twinkled, eyebrows wiggled and a blinky wink was given. Every woman in the room knew it was for them and them alone.
Somewhere behind the curtains a bored young man hit the play button to start the backing track for the first song, and a noise resembling mating chipmunks boomed out of the speakers. Then silence. Then cursing. Then the track started again at a more reasonable pace. The Divos looked at each other, this was going to be a very long night.
Isabel was seething. How dare these people be so disrespectful to Il Divo. She couldn’t do anything tonight but tomorrow heads would roll. Oh yes. She would send a very strongly worded email to everyone and.. Oh My. He’s looking at me. He’s singing to me. Whatever thoughts she’d had of whatever she was going to put in that email disappeared.
At the end of the song the entire room stood, applauding, cheering, whooping and whistling.
There would be another two and then the Divos were expected to circulate and make small talk with a roomful of people they had no interest in talking to. None of them were looking forward to it. David would rather have been playing an X box game, Urs wanted to go to the gym, Sebastian wanted to go to a club, and Carlos was wishing he was in his hotel room. With a cup of coco, wearing tartan pyjamas instead of his suit, his tiger slippers instead of the shoes that were crippling him and The Times crossword for company.