mob boss bob™

She smooths her palms over the satin skirt, her head cocked to the side. Her mother joins her in front of the mirror, holding out the earrings they’d decided she should wear. Eleanor puts them in while her mother circles around her back, checking for creases in the fabric or loose threads from the many alterations. 

“How is going to prom with Rhett Abbott helping daddy’s campaign?”

It’s the question that’s been gnawing at her in the weeks since she agreed to the scheme. Somehow being seen on a date with Rhett Abbott would help her father get elected mayor, though she didn’t understand how that could be. The Abbotts don’t exactly have stellar reputations, and their longstanding dispute with the Tillersons has caused more friction in the community than anyone cares to admit.

“I’m not sure, honey.” It’s a lie, of course. Eleanor knows that, and her mother knows it too. She just won’t share it with her even though she’s the pawn in their political game. “I’ll run down and see if he’s here.”

She paces the room, stopping in front of the mirror again. She knows it’s futile, but she tries to take a deep breath. She can’t, and it’s her mother’s doing. When her mother insisted on taking in the waist an extra inch, the tailor had given her a pitying look.

She’s so lost in thought that she startles when her mother pokes her head in to let her know he’s here.

In the foyer, at the bottom of the stairs, stands Rhett Abbott. Lanky, wearing an ill-fitting grey suit and scuffed cowboy boots. His hair needs a trim, but it’s combed back and curls slightly at his nape. He’s clean-shaven and—

“You’re wearing pink,” she blurts out, stepping onto the floor from the last step of the stairs.

He pulls out of his own thoughts, offering her a wry smile. “Yeah,” he mutters and looks down at it. “Yeah, Ma said you were wearing pink. We match.” She nods, suddenly feeling shy.

They don’t really know each other. Rhett has a reputation for skipping class and taking the rules as a suggestion, not something to be followed. Wabang sees Rhett as a good-for-nothing, wannabe bull rider, and his reputation all but confirms that.

On the surface, they have nothing in common, and yet here they are going to prom together to appease their families.

“That for me?” she asks, pointing to the container he’s holding.

He looks down. “Um, yeah,” he mutters and fumbles with getting it open. Finally, the plastic gives, revealing a small pink peony corsage with a bit of greenery and a blush pink ribbon for her wrist.

She looks at it, a little impressed that his mother convinced him to even get a corsage. “It’s beautiful.”

“Can I—“ he clears his throat. “You don’t have to wear it.” He looks on edge, his shoulders tight with tension.

She offers him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I want to.” She holds out her wrist, and the look in his eyes changes. He almost looks relieved.

Slipping the corsage over her wrist, she fights a shudder as his fingers graze her skin. She looks up at him, wondering if he feels it too. If he’s as affected by this moment as she is.

She smooths her palms over the satin skirt, her head cocked to the side. Her mother joins her in front of the mirror, holding out the earrings they’d decided she should wear. Eleanor puts them in while her mother circles around her back, checking for creases in the fabric or loose threads from the many alterations. 

“How is going to prom with Rhett Abbott helping daddy’s campaign?”

It’s the question that’s been gnawing at her in the weeks since she agreed to the scheme. Somehow being seen on a date with Rhett Abbott would help her father get elected mayor, though she didn’t understand how that could be. The Abbotts don’t exactly have stellar reputations, and their longstanding dispute with the Tillersons has caused more friction in the community than anyone cares to admit.

“I’m not sure, honey.” It’s a lie, of course. Eleanor knows that, and her mother knows it too. She just won’t share it with her even though she’s the pawn in their political game. “I’ll run down and see if he’s here.”

She paces the room, stopping in front of the mirror again. She knows it’s futile, but she tries to take a deep breath. She can’t, and it’s her mother’s doing. When her mother insisted on taking in the waist an extra inch, the tailor had given her a pitying look.

She’s so lost in thought that she startles when her mother pokes her head in to let her know he’s here.

In the foyer, at the bottom of the stairs, stands Rhett Abbott. Lanky, wearing an ill-fitting grey suit and scuffed cowboy boots. His hair needs a trim, but it’s combed back and curls slightly at his nape. He’s clean-shaven and—

“You’re wearing pink,” she blurts out, stepping onto the floor from the last step of the stairs.

He pulls out of his own thoughts, offering her a wry smile. “Yeah,” he mutters and looks down at it. “Yeah, Ma said you were wearing pink. We match.” She nods, suddenly feeling shy.

They don’t really know each other. Rhett has a reputation for skipping class and taking the rules as a suggestion, not something to be followed. Wabang sees Rhett as a good-for-nothing, wannabe bull rider, and his reputation all but confirms that.

On the surface, they have nothing in common, and yet here they are going to prom together to appease their families.

“That for me?” she asks, pointing to the container he’s holding.

He looks down. “Um, yeah,” he mutters and fumbles with getting it open. Finally, the plastic gives, revealing a small pink peony corsage with a bit of greenery and a blush pink ribbon for her wrist.

She looks at it, a little impressed that his mother convinced him to even get a corsage. “It’s beautiful.”

“Can I—“ he clears his throat. “You don’t have to wear it.” He looks on edge, his shoulders tight with tension.

She offers him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I want to.” She holds out her wrist, and the look in his eyes changes. He almost looks relieved.

Slipping the corsage over her wrist, she fights a shudder as his fingers graze her skin. She looks up at him, wondering if he feels it too. If he’s as affected by this moment as she is.

She smooths her palms over the satin skirt, her head cocked to the side. Her mother joins her in front of the mirror, holding out the earrings they’d decided she should wear. Eleanor puts them in while her mother circles around her back, checking for creases in the fabric or loose threads from the many alterations. 

“How is going to prom with Rhett Abbott helping daddy’s campaign?”

It’s the question that’s been gnawing at her in the weeks since she agreed to the scheme. Somehow being seen on a date with Rhett Abbott would help her father get elected mayor, though she didn’t understand how that could be. The Abbotts don’t exactly have stellar reputations, and their longstanding dispute with the Tillersons has caused more friction in the community than anyone cares to admit.

“I’m not sure, honey.” It’s a lie, of course. Eleanor knows that, and her mother knows it too. She just won’t share it with her even though she’s the pawn in their political game. “I’ll run down and see if he’s here.”

She paces the room, stopping in front of the mirror again. She knows it’s futile, but she tries to take a deep breath. She can’t, and it’s her mother’s doing. When her mother insisted on taking in the waist an extra inch, the tailor had given her a pitying look.

She’s so lost in thought that she startles when her mother pokes her head in to let her know he’s here.

In the foyer, at the bottom of the stairs, stands Rhett Abbott. Lanky, wearing an ill-fitting grey suit and scuffed cowboy boots. His hair needs a trim, but it’s combed back and curls slightly at his nape. He’s clean-shaven and—

“You’re wearing pink,” she blurts out, stepping onto the floor from the last step of the stairs.

He pulls out of his own thoughts, offering her a wry smile. “Yeah,” he mutters and looks down at it. “Yeah, Ma said you were wearing pink. We match.” She nods, suddenly feeling shy.

They don’t really know each other. Rhett has a reputation for skipping class and taking the rules as a suggestion, not something to be followed. Wabang sees Rhett as a good-for-nothing, wannabe bull rider, and his reputation all but confirms that.

On the surface, they have nothing in common, and yet here they are going to prom together to appease their families.

“That for me?” she asks, pointing to the container he’s holding.

He looks down. “Um, yeah,” he mutters and fumbles with getting it open. Finally, the plastic gives, revealing a small pink peony corsage with a bit of greenery and a blush pink ribbon for her wrist.

She looks at it, a little impressed that his mother convinced him to even get a corsage. “It’s beautiful.”

“Can I—“ he clears his throat. “You don’t have to wear it.” He looks on edge, his shoulders tight with tension.

She offers him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I want to.” She holds out her wrist, and the look in his eyes changes. He almost looks relieved.

Slipping the corsage over her wrist, she fights a shudder as his fingers graze her skin. She looks up at him, wondering if he feels it too. If he’s as affected by this moment as she is.