"Hey, um, how about we take a step back?" I asked slowly, looking at Olivia and the scary lady who stared daggers at her. The guests were digging into the deliciously appealing food that the waiters were serving. They were too busy to notice.

Yet.

Olivia would not budge; she stood tall and proud, her chin held high. The old woman was just as adamant, leaning heavily on her silver plated walking stick but showing no signs of mental weakness.

"None of your business, boy," she said, not even glancing at me.

Normally, that would have offended me beyond measure but all I could think about was the murderous look on Olivia's face. She kept clenching and unclenching her fists, like she was trying to hold back from punching the woman's face.

Thankfully, Madison wedged in between the two of them and placed a hand on Olivia's shoulders. She glared at her to sit back down before taking the woman's hands in hers. The lady's eyes shifted, softening for the first time as it fell on Madison.

"Grandma, please sit. You know people will talk," Madison pleaded and immediately the woman seemed to return to her senses.

Grandma?!

A glittering smile appeared on her face as if two seconds ago she was not a psychotic woman with a silver walking stick. She brushed past Olivia, almost pushing her chair over. It was unimaginable that a woman like that could be anybody's grandmother.

"Why, yes, of course, Madison. You have wonderful manners for a child of the younger generation," she said, looking pointedly at Olivia. She sat down beside Robin and gave him a once over with her eyes.

She obviously did not approve of his midnight blue sequinned jacket. Robin looked like he'd been slapped and he quietly went back to drinking his rosé. It was his girlfriend, Patricia's turn to look at Madison's grandma distastefully which did not go unnoticed by her.

Her face contorted, scowling viciously at Patricia. She silently scoffed at Patricia's blue, silk, polka beaded dress, which didn't help her position much.

The lady turned to Joshua and he smiled at her, his eyes blinking uncomfortably. "Hello Joshua, you clean up very well. I suppose you'll be able to fit in with the Kingsmiths. Barely, if not completely," she said, her fake smile taking up her entire face.

Madison turned beet red next to Olivia. "Grandma!" She hissed, glaring at the lady. "Can you stop being yourself for one evening, please?"

"Absolutely preposterous! I will do no such thing. Besides, Joshua enjoys talking to me, do you not?" She glanced at him, daring him to disagree.

"No, no, it's okay, Madison. It's always a pleasure to host you, Grandma!" Joshua exclaimed with such forced eagerness, it shook the very foundations of my hearing.

"This is how you treat your elders. Quite a few people would benefit from these life lessons." She sniffed, casting another evil eye at Olivia.

Joshua exhaled, tired and annoyed, while Madison looked like she wanted to slam a tray over someone's head. Patricia and Robin squirmed in their seats and as for me, I was counting the minutes till my release.

"Perhaps you forgot to learn a few lessons yourself, Evelyn," Olivia shot back. I snorted rosé through my nose which did not look pretty. As for the rest of the table, everyone was equally stunned at her retort.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a wedding to plan." Olivia grabbed hold of her purse and walked off without another word. We stared at her, a mixture of shock and admiration.

Evelyn seemed unfazed. She patted my hand and said, "And who might this handsome gentleman be?"

My brain rushed at a hundred miles an hour. I had to get away from her before she sunk her talons in me and converted me into someone like Joshua. I couldn't act nice around her if she passed thinly veiled insults at me all night.

Lord knew the kind of things I would say to her.

I gulped the rosé down and shook off my hand from her grasp. "Oh, me? I am Olivia's assistant. Lowly man, no grace at all. Sorry, have to follow, bye!"

In my hurry, I barely managed to run away without tripping over Evelyn's stick or her insane drapes of clothing. Robin seemed to be muttering under his breath while Patricia dug into the food. She turned back momentarily to gesture at me to follow Olivia.

Madison threw me a look too, something between concern and shame. It startled me for a minute; Madison showing emotion was not a daily event. But she turned her back on me just as quickly like the look had never happened.

I shrugged it off and strode further away from the table. Finding myself in the middle of the ballroom, I felt utterly lost. Waiters pushed past me and children ran circles around my legs while I prayed for Olivia to turn up.

Just like an answer to my prayers, I found Olivia by herself at the open bar. Her shoulders were hunched over a drink, which she was downing dangerously fast. Her face was drawn, bearing a thousand thoughts and emotions. Even from a distance, I could feel the despair she was feeling.

"You didn't share, you know."

Olivia nearly fell off her chair. She clapped a hand over her chest and exhaled deeply. "I need to stop letting people sneak up on me."

I laughed a little and drew up a barstool beside her. "It's not your fault everyone's better at sneaking around than you."

"That's not the only thing everyone's better at than me," she said, a sad smile plastered on her face.

Up close, I could see the worry in her eyes and the jitters in her hands. This was not the first time she had encountered feeling pushed away, and it was showing. It weighed her down and stole the light from her face.

I didn't like that, I decided.

I waved the bartender over and pointed discreetly at Olivia's half finished mojito, gesturing at him to take it away. She didn't let go, holding on with a vice grip. So, I signalled the barkeep to not supply more. "There's always something you can do better at than everyone else," I shrugged.

This time, she laughed. It sounded the way a waterfall infused with a rainbow would sound. It tinkled and shimmered and then all of a sudden it was gone. I didn't realise I was staring till she stopped laughing.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she shook her head. "Thank you, Daniel, but I've got nothing to be proud of." She took a gulp of her fruity mojito. "I come from a broken family, I'm not insanely rich like Madison, and neither am I celebrity like you."

She stopped rambling, her eyebrows scrunching together, like she was missing something. "A celebrity," she muttered and then looked accusingly at me. "You," she jabbed a finger in my chest and I winced. She seemed to notice so she placed her hand flat against my heart.

"Who are you?" She asked, in a voice that might have sounded rough to the uninterested ear. To me, it felt like being doused in honey.

I cleared my throat and gently cupped her hand. I didn't know whether it was the alcohol or something else, but she did not pull away. Her eyes were sparkling and bright, almost as if she was genuinely happy to listen to me.

"I'm a racer."

"A racer?" Her eyebrows creased together again. Her hand was still covered under mine. I was sure she could hear the steady thundering of my heart. "You mean, that horse thing? What's it called? Barbie? No wait — "

She looked absolutely adorable trying to remember the name of the sport. "Derby," I said, laughing. She piped up and nodded but I shook my head no. "Not derby. I'm a Formula 1 racer."

She puckered her lips and slowly bit her lower lip in deep thought. "So, you drive those fancy cars? The small, weird ones that cost a fortune, even though they seat only one person?"

I couldn't help it. I snorted loudly, gaining the attention of a small group of diners. I ducked and lowered my voice, "Exactly those."

She placed her arms on the bar table, keeping her chin on top of them. I followed suit and tilted my head to look at her. "Do you own one?" Her voice held a quiet excitement to it and I could feel my heartstrings pull against my chest.

"Yeah, I do. I have a few cars back home but my favourite is my Bugatti Divo. It's a sweet ride with a different aerodynamic setup, which makes it 8 seconds quicker around the Nardo test track. It also has lighter — "

"How many is a few?" Olivia asked, propping her cheek on her palm.

I was never someone to shy away from talking about my expensive rides. In fact, I always felt a sense of satisfaction watching people admire their descriptions. But in front of Olivia, I suddenly felt abashed and a little too boastful.

"Well, um, you know, it's not — "

Olivia looked at me like I had lost my mind. So, I sighed and mumbled, "Twenty three."

She stumbled forward on her chair, her eyes as big as saucers. "Twenty three?!" She whisper-shrieked.

I was about to wave it off and say it was not a big deal when she grabbed my knee. "Daniel, tell me you can drive."

"Olivet, I am a racer," I said, laughing quietly at her sudden childishness. It was hard to think of such a reserved woman act like an actual kid after only — wait, how many drinks did she have?

"You're driving, come on." She got up, pulling me behind her. I held back a little, flinching at the pain. Her insistence on me driving and the burning in my chest, brought back unpleasant memories immediately.

I called the bartender over and pointed at Olivia. I spread my palm in a questioning gesture. The bartender held up eight fingers and my heart sank. There was no way I was taking Olivia on a ride, at ten in the night, in my broken condition and her intoxicated state.

I couldn't do this to myself. I couldn't get into a car. Not then. I had to let her go. At least for that night.