Thomas wished he had enough chutzpah to shush the man.

In his profession he bumped into many types of conservationists; ‘listener’- were the ones he adored, they simply stood and nodded their heads hearing or at least successfully pretending to hear all his bizarre talks.

Interrupters – could be fun or annoying to cater to as they were always hell bent on interrupting him at any point they saw fit, and then spent the rest of the day, week or year convincing him of what they thought was right.

Finally, horrifyingly, came in, incessant talkers, Thomas sighed in misery- talking, sorry, listening to them should be enough to convince God to give him a free ticket to heaven, one needed patience, enormous amount, to deal with such virile creatures. They dominated the entire conversation and seemed to be blissfully unaware of when the other person in the conversation was ready for it to be over.

Thomas was dealing with a man belonging to the last breed and right now, he would have preferred to dance naked then to be in his company.

Praying, telepathy, ‘in mind’ screaming; nothing seemed to be working with this man who was enjoying using his vocal cords to his heart’s content, and Thomas had all but given up.

 “But, if I would have been the Secretary of State, I would say, plunge in deep and fill your pocket, after all the markets act well in China and India, it derives me to complete insanity to see that we still flounder and dither to invest in these appropriate, if I may say, dumping grounds....”

He watched, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the bald congressman in front of him, who was keen on informing him of his ‘intellectual and profound’ views on the lackluster foreign policy that US was keen on following.

Thomas knew being a highly placed diplomat of the country, he was a public figure and was always up for a good bout of conversation and exchange of views on any local, national, international issue but that did not mean he was entitled to just that one topic.

As he nodded at appropriate moments in the one way conversation the man seemed hell bent on having, he wondered idly, did being a diplomat meant he carried a placard with him that read- any idiot with little to no knowledge could throw outlandish theories at him? Thomas was no push over, he desperately wanted to correct the man and enlighten him of the reason for following of a more docile policy but the man scarcely gave him a chance to get a word in.

When the man in question was called in by another, Thomas escaped at the first instance, not looking back, simply treading on till he reached the humongous Victorian doors that guaranteed him freedom and relief albeit temporary in nature.

Now, he stood near a fountain, dark shadows from trees encasing him within its fold, his gaze fixed on his glass, seemingly held captivated by the way champagne sloshed around the edges, as if demanding escape but there were only two destinations pre decided for it. 

Either it would become his tummy's new occupant or go down the washbasin. 

Of course, there was a third option too, that of being hurled on to someone and being seeped by the cloth greedily, permanently staining it, proving to be a reminder, but owing to the fact that Thomas Conrad was a young yet seasoned, well accepted till now; diplomat, that action in itself would declare him unfit of his glowing, powerful lineage that he not only had inherited but felt blessed to be a part of. 

He tilted his head and looked around, thanking the stars above and around for giving him these precious few seconds for himself without some man chattering in his ear regarding 'his' finest ideas of some agenda or some self proclaimed gorgeous woman fluttering her eyes at him. Seeking him for her next meal.

Of course, he wasn't entirely a saint and was known to have succumbed more than once owing to the flirtations of these seemingly harmless but in reality devious creatures.

Looking at the champagne he addressed his next words to it, “We both want an escape, you from that glass and I from this imposing cage like party, being paid to serve people the least I can do is put you out of your misery," saying that, he tumbled the contents and swallowed them. 

"You know it is said, the first symptom of insanity can be recognized when a person speaks to himself," a voice chimed from somewhere behind him. 

Thomas cursed in mutiny and muttered dryly," Aunt Mary, you found me,” as he turned rather obligingly. 

"Such a good mouth, my dearest diplomat," she retorted and in a moment of extreme affection, patted his cheeks. 

“You know me, I love you, aunt Mary, ” Thomas twinkled at her, knowing he could get away with murder whereas she was concerned. 

He owed his aunt MaryMcLeod half of his success. When his parents had decided to retire to the country side after banking on his father's multi-billionaire business enterprise which thankfully he wasn’t asked to take over but had fallen in the hands of his more than capable younger brother who readily made a grab for it, god bless him, his father after taking out his arrears and a killer package, built their dream farm house along with two dogs far away from the main city.

His aunt Mary, his father’s sister had stayed behind, not literally, after all she had a house there, and had been divorced more times than he cared to count, but having a second home nearby in the ruthlessly competitive environment of Washington DC had proved to be a source of much comfort and security. Also, having a brother in her son from her first marriage, proved to guarantee a friendship where none were available at times. 

The credit for the other half undoubtedly was hogged by his parents, who had not only raised him, reared him but till today repeatedly interfered in his life, for which he was at times, thankful. Loneliness was a boon but most times, it swallowed him, family provided a much needed but less appreciated distraction. 

The real hard work, if you can put it in that manner had been done by him. The field he was in couldn’t be inherited. He had sweated, struggled, fought, relished and gone through moments of insanity in Harvard, taking in its unfailing atmosphere and yet building his own temperament.

“I love you too, scoundrel, enough hiding now, it’s my party and you have to be inside charming those boring congressmen, “she retorted back as she gave him her gems laden hand to take and before he could think of an excuse, she quickly tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, waiting for him to escort her back, “God, I feel younger.”

“Like a ‘young’ cougar,” Thomas relished teasing her; she had wits to match him and wisdom to make him pull out his teeth.

“Nonsense,” she chimed, “I dare anyone to call me that, after all, I pick men my own age,” she winked at him making him roll his eyes.

Thomas looked at her and smiled, she was a beautiful woman nearing sixty five with unfailing grace, one that never diminished but only increased with age, her white curls had been put in a quick, refined bun; she had a face that was filled with naughtiness and warmth. No wonder, she was still a favorite amongst ‘his’ gender. But he realized he was proud of her, she had never thrown her colorful life in his or Alan, her son’s face, she had hidden it well and when the time of revelation came, she had handled it adequately.

He knew for a fact, she had loved her first husband whom she lost on an ‘excursion’ shipwreck, it came as no surprise to him when she insisting on retaining his surname ‘McLeod’, that was a sign of loyalty, that he loved and what he respected was her vow to live her life to the fullest.

“So,” Aunt Mary tried to test her luck, “you still giving that speech in the ‘DC College of Public Administration’, tomorrow evening?”

“Yes, give up, Aunt Mary,” Thomas told her firmly, as they stepped inside her enormous ball room, decorated regally enough to put the Queen of England to shame.

“Well, can’t you take an hour off, she is a pretty girl who...” she fluttered her eyes at him.

"When will you stop trying to marry me off?" Thomas kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I'd almost forgiven you for the fashionista you tried to impose on me."

 "She was a very agreeable young woman."

 "Hmmm. Where is Alan, haven't seen him till now? “Thomas decided not to mention that the agreeable young woman had hinted all through their ‘forced’ dinner for him...in her bed.

"That pinhead son of mine, must be here somewhere, I have a surprise for him too, Besides, I'm not trying to marry you off; I just want you to be happy."

”I am happy, see,” Thomas showed her his teeth as he smiled big and wide enough to swallow the entire room, he quickly stopped near the drinks table, bid her goodbye before she could blackmail him into a date with any fraught female, as he handed her safely in the arms of the good old senator who had been making gooey eyes at her.

 He turned around, relived, and felt a firm slap on his back, “Well, diplomat Conrad, it's good to see you outside the pitch. We are not often able to lure you out."

 "Good champagne, Alan." Thomas lifted his glass as he hugged him fiercely. "It always does the trick."

"How was dealing with my mother," Alan asked, "Any new dates on the horizon?"

Thomas laughed, "I put her hastily in the hands of Senator Saxwell, before she could thrust one on me, but you do know I love Aunt Mary."

"It usually takes more than that," Alan corrected. "The feeling is mutual."

"I heard she has one planned for you," Thomas chimed enjoying the conversation heartily.

He loved Alan as much as his own brother, after all, they had spent many rebellious years together, lusting on girls, enjoying those late night parties and helping each other when drunk. They knew each other inside out. Alan was focused in his career that was of being a professional hotelier and a part-time tennis player, a name to reckon with but unfortunately without any grand slam win in his kitty till now. 

"Oh, good, I was getting bored; I need someone to use my underappreciated fame on," Alan randomly replied," Why don't I take you out for a wild night?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, “I should give this statement to the press, will make me a millionaire, you know I have already sowed my wild oats.”

“Real pity, you’re already a billionaire,” Alan chirped,” I hear you’re making positive moves."

 Thomas smiled easily. No one's moves were secret in Washington. "There seems to be a lot to make positive moves about.”

With a nod for agreement, Alan sipped his drink. "I'm interested in your views on the Libya take, will the Secretary of State be held responsible?”

Thomas met the his eyes calmly, knowing well even in jest; his remarks had to be neutral and professional, keeping personal observations on the back foot, hidden and tightly concealed especially in such places where even the walls had ears. A misquote could break ‘well worked for’ careers.

 "No," he said simply. "She is not to be blamed."

 "Well, Thomas, you and I know things aren't so black and white."

"True, but are you going to take one bureaucrat's view on a politician?" Thomas raised his eyebrow to look at him making him laugh in return.

 “If I hadn’t known you since our childhood, I would have you arrested for being so straight forward,” Alan laughed heartily.

Thomas simply shook his head, “Well, I am told prison time is an experience one shouldn’t miss.”

“Cocky, you were always that,” Alan mused.

Thomas was about to reply when his gaze lingered on a woman partially hidden by the buffet table. She was unlike any he had seen, wearing a peach colored gown, that looked classy on her, she wasn’t overtly beautiful but had a face that was way too alluring, a face that one could spend centuries looking at, he titled his head and looked from her toes to the crown of her black hair that seemed have been wounded in a tight bun, and nodded in pure male appreciation. She definitely had a body; a man wanted his hands on and would relish the feel of.

He couldn’t explain why he was tempted to touch her hair, see her smile and bask in her company.

He found the package outrageously sexy.

The feeling was silly, senseless and yet fresh, one that excited him. What was it? Attraction, at first sight?

“Who is she?” Thomas asked Alan letting his look stagger between Alan and her.

Alan had noticed his friend’s distraction which was pretty odd as Thomas was known for his consistent concentration as much as for his witty diatribes. Ah, this he hadn’t expected. Alan had noticed the woman’s eyes stare at Thomas, when she thought no one was looking. So, a battle of attraction between two equally ‘stubborn’ wits.  This he wouldn't miss. 

"Oh her, Layna Patt, congressman Patt's daughter, want an introduction?" 

Thomas looked at her bewitched," Never seen her before, I think I can manage an introduction. Excuse me." Alan raised his glass at him, smiling to his heart's content as he stationed himself to lean on a table comfortably to watch the scene unfold. 

As Thomas neared her and stopped, he was shocked to find her grappling his arm, she looked at him and in an almost hush whisper commented, “You’re the usher, aren't you? I saw you escorting Mrs. McLeod; can you please drop me outside?"

God, her husky purr made him feel things entirely related to being near a feminine species. She was beautiful. He looked at her hint of cleavage and found himself fighting with his inner control. He was surprised albeit pleasantly, never before had anyone invoked such intense feelings in him on the first sight.

“Yes, I can but you’re mistaken I...”

“It’s alright, won’t take two minutes of your time, I know this is not a part of your job routine but I really need to get out before Mrs. McLeod feels it benevolent enough to thrust me on some man,” she pleaded, how could he say ever no to those big, brown eyes.

“This way, ma’am,” he led her through a throng of party-goers, some indulging in their talks others in their drinks.

On the side, Alan caught his mother’s twinkling eyes and exclaimed to no one in particular, “No wonder, my darling mum, you were so adamant about having Layna at this party, phony matchmakers step aside, no one is safe, my mum has entered the field.”

...............

Layna was a bit surprised, the man accompanying her might be just an employee but the kind of stunned reaction he generated in her was too new and odd to not ponder upon, not that he wasn’t good looking, he was attractive—perhaps too attractive.  She'd noticed him across the room, possibly because he was tall with a naturally athletic build you didn't often see at a Washington party. He had a scholarly look and an aristocratic aura that did not gel well with the kind of job he held.

As he held her arm, she could feel muscles—one that made a woman sigh. From a purely female outlook, it was impossible not to react and approve of him.

“So, leaving early?” Thomas sounded almost amused; this was the first time he had been mistaken for an usher, who was he to deny such claim especially when he had not been presented an opportunity to do so in the very beginning. Well, now it was too late. He accustomed himself to enjoy these five minutes with an enchanting lady who fascinated him, and was currently perched on his arm.

“Yes, I have work tomorrow, and Mrs. McLeod just loves setting me up, I mean I love her but I had to run before she caught up with me,” Layna gave him a smile full of mischief.

Darn it, he lost five seconds of his life simply looking at her smile. Hell, even her smile was captivating!

“Work, eh?” he mulled over sounding indifferent but in reality wanting to hear her soft, melodious voice again.

Layna looked at him, and decided he was simply being friendly, what was the harm; she didn’t have to give her name to him, “yes, we’re having a seminar tomorrow over at the DC University where I teach.”

“Seminar, who is coming over, sounds boring?”

They had reached the foyer by then; she looked up at him and found a jolt hammering her nerves, she frowned over his observation and her outrageous behavior,” Diplomat, Thomas Conrad.”

Surprise and impulse took over him as he let his thumb trace lightly over her wrist. He felt the quick, almost surprised increase of her pulse,” who is he?”

Layna was surprised to find herself behaving so wantonly, this must be the nerves for tomorrow, she decided and laughed as she answered, “Haven’t heard of him, eh? Our youngest diplomat, being considered for the roll of honor and may just become our youngest ambassador till date.”

Layna couldn’t wait to hear his speech, Thomas Conrad, according to her was a man who was powerful yet had profound knowledge that could shame many hard-liners. He was known to be the youngest on the block, barely twenty-eight years old with an insight that catered to and was heard by all. His thoughtful reflection with respect to the policies, used with deep thought and his strong intelligence was said to have caught the interest of the president, he might just be the next star in the political arena. She had seen few of his photographs, and was pretty sure she could pin point him in a crowd.  She let her enthusiasm pass by, she was the head co-coordinator and may be would even get a chance for a one on one chit chat. She smiled as she remembered how she had pleaded with Aunt Mary to invite Thomas Conrad for her famous get-together but all her favorite aunt had done was smile at her.

Thomas was pleased and suddenly with gusto looked forward to attending the next day’s seminar, he said in a bored voice,” A bureaucrat?....well, hope you enjoy.”

“Thank you, I am sure I will.”

For a moment, they stood on the side, silently. Thomas thought, queer was life with its bearings, here was a woman who had attracted him yet withheld within itself a chance, an opportunity. He couldn’t wait to see what ‘tomorrow’ had in store for him.

Layna was surprised, she had not expected a non-stop five minute conversation with an usher that could be explained by the fact that sometimes, people did mingle well but what remained unexplained was her response to him. Why did he affect her so much? They had nothing in common, was she thinking too much.

The answer according to her was a resounding yes, no wonder she hated her brain a lot especially in such moments.

Now, as she saw him move towards the valet to nod for her car, she could see an appearance of cool confidence with a slight touch of arrogance that astonished her yet power seemed to be a part of his character, which certainly was a mismatch with his job.

She shook her head and simply decided she had lost her mind. She had to leave before she did something stupid.

"Your car is here, ma’am, you need anything else?" he asked her.

"No, thank you." Layna hunted through her purse and came up with a ten. "Thank you," she said, holding it out.

His eyes met hers again, giving her that same frozen jolt they had moments back. She nearly shivered.

Then he smiled, so quickly, so charmingly, she was speechless. She had to get out.

"Thank you, ma’am." Without a blink Thomas pocketed the ten dollars and strolled back towards the ball room.