— a rose by any other name.

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM YOUR SECRET SANTA !

Here’s to hoping you can find some time in the upcoming holiday season and new year to get away from all the stress and take some well deserved time for yourself. We all know how hard working you are, and how much you deserve to be pampered. So, take some time on me and unload for a little while, gorgeous. Happy Christmas <3 !

Glancing sideways, Ian spotted the blonde socialite he had met only once before – Taylor Carson,  well-known face around town, but Ian wasn’t all too familiar with her generally speaking. ‘’Mrs. Carson,’’ He greeted her with a smile and a nod. ‘’I actually have to agree,’’ It was a bit unusual, but he liked seeing everyone in their best attire. ‘’Seems like most folks really did make sure to showcase their best assets. I’m assuming the charity aspect is going as planned?’’ He took a sip of his champagne, assuming that Taylor was most likely one of the people in charge of it. She seemed the type. 

From what Taylor knew of Ian, he seemed like a nice enough guy. People hardly had a bad thing to say about him, and he was one of Calvin’s closest friends. In addition with his service, Taylor deemed him worthy of the highest respect. “That they did,” Taylor chuckled, looking out at the sea of people dressed to the nines. Then again, this was a common view for the socialite who attended more of these kinds of galas than she could count. “And what about you -- you look like a million dollars!” She gleamed happily over at Ian, who cleaned up real nice. At his question, it appeared as if he’d punctured her under-the-radar facade, and simply nodded. “Surpassed our goal, actually.”

Taylor had been watching him all night -- not in the stalker sense, but in the sense that she had wanted desperately to approach the rugged cowboy, but didn’t have the courage. She had a lot to say to Cass, as she had had a lot to say to Calvin too, when she’d come face to face with the officer’s scuffed mug. However, every time she veered near to the man, she’d catch sight of Amy; the woman who’d started all this. Taylor didn’t blame her -- no, of course not. But she was the common denominator in the situation, and as far as she’d heard, she and Calvin had recently slept together before Amy and Cass began dating, causing a blowout of testosterone in the middle of a bar, during Calvin’s mysterious gloomy period. 

Finally, around the nine o’clock hour and two champagnes in, Taylor made her way to speak with Cass. She wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to say, as she was both concerned and a bit agitated by his very public macho display, but she figured it’d come to her once in his presence. “Hey,” she opened on a weak note, broaching Cassidy’s space from behind, while giving a gentle smile to ward off any worry that she was flat-out upset with him.

It’d been years since Harlow had been to an event as fancy as the Winter Wonderland Gala, and she reveled in the familiarity of such a setting as she stood on the edge of the dancefloor, champagne flute in hand. She’d grown up attending galas like this with her family, her mother or father frequently being the guest of honor or the highest donor of the evening. It was an environment she was comfortable in, and she’d never really lost the childlike excitement of being able to get dressed up for a night or being able to see all her friends dressed up for a night. Harlow could’ve stood at the edge of the place the entire night, just watching, admiring everyone’s suits and dresses, but she was pulled out of her little trance by a familiar face. Grinning, she lifted her glass, “Well don’t you look fancy” She said with a laugh, practically giddy, “Are you having fun? I could stay here forever.” 

The blonde in the midst of the room, hovering at the edge of the dace floor, caught Taylor’s eye like a bright star on a gloomy night. She hadn’t seen Harlow Reed attend a gala in what felt like ages. When she was younger, she could recall having a certain quiet kinship with the other woman under the average age of the guests here, but when Harlow left, Taylor had to brave the events alone. “Thank you,” Taylor greeted in response to the compliment, a bright smile tugging at her lips. She nodded lightly at the question on if she was having fun -- even though she knew that she’d much rather be at home in her pajamas at this hour -- before quirking a brow. “You could?” She asked with a tilt of her head. “Because I haven’t seen you in years, it feels like?” Taylor’s tone wasn’t accusatory; in fact, it was overtly friendly. Like a young child whose friend had been sick for a week and had finally returned back to school.

‘‘I wasn’t here last year, only got discharged this year, but I hear they’ve outdone themselves,’‘ Ian commented to the person next to him. ‘‘I mean, the food’s amazing, the drinks even better, and the reception was really damn pleasant. Not to mention I got to see a ton of people I haven’t seen in years, and that says something,’’ He continued, nodding once at the waiter who had just silently offered them another glass of champagne. He took it as well as his company; sipping on it felt like a right pastime.

Blue hues followed the trays of appetizers balancing on a waiter’s hand before he pointed it out. “Yeah, stay away from that one, it’s chicken liver and it tastes like Satan’s asshole,” he groaned, washing down the taste with the sparkling lemonade in his hand. Once his family were one of the more revered guests of evenings like this, neat bowties and perfect manners, but over the years tides changed. The last time he remembered attending the gala was a few years ago and getting wildly drunk and stumbling out to a backroom with a random girl had been the highlight of the evening, but seemingly… tides were changing there too. “Are we ever gettin’ real food other than these nibbles floating around? A guy can’t survive the night on mini quiches alone.” 

“Not with a stomach your size,” Taylor chided, suddenly appearing beside Serge after spotting him across the room. She giggled to herself, smoothing the dark blue satin fabric of her dress after having been making her rounds through the townsfolk over the past hour. She was desperate for a conversation that didn’t revolve around her father’s campaign or the size of someone’s pockets. “I was thinking of ordering a pizza on the down-low.”

          Esme mingled with a few people, somewhere along the lines she lost sight of her sister but that didn’t stop the youngest Maxwell from finding her way towards the bar and snacking on her third cake, maybe it was the fact she placed a check under her mothers name to the fundraiser and knew that her mom will probably call her later once she finds out a large chunk of money is gone from her bank. At this point she could care less, turning her gaze towards the other and pulled her finger away from licking the frosting off, “What–don’t judge, it taste good.”

Taylor giggled off to the side of Esme, watching as she licked frosting off of her index finger. “You know, it tastes good with the cake too,” Taylor teased, jabbing at the younger woman’s antics. After all, it was refreshing to see someone throwing proper manners out the window at a gala like this, albeit rare. Given that fact, Taylor wasn’t going to stop her.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8TH, 2018. at the WONDERLAND GALA with @taylor-carson.

          “Well, we can cross the Desmarais’ off the list.” Alicia proudly boasted while she sauntered up to Taylor’s side. “I’ve just personally delivered a very fat donation check with their name on it. And can I just say, for as much money as they have in the bank, they sure are stingy. I couldn’t believe their initial offer.” For someone like her, the gala was equal parts business and pleasure. Ali thrived in the limelight, but there was still a job to be done. The gala was, after all, a fundraiser at it’s heart. Now that she’d secured another contribution to the cause it was time to focus on the other aspect for a little while.Her hand snaked out to swipe a flute of Cristal from a passing tray and then, with a beaming grin, she settled her gaze on Tay. “You look divine, by the way. I don’t think I’ve had a second to tell you that yet.”

            Esme grinned as she pulled up her own calendar and skimmed through, looking at the date for the nineteenth and nodded her head, “I’m available that day, my boss is giving me more rest days since the whole summer of planning and working, so this actually works out in my favor for once.” She chuckled, quickly typing in Taylor’s name to block the day off in case anything were to disturb her girl’s spa day. “What time should we meet up?” 

“You deserve it more than most people,” Taylor agreed with Esme’s boss, as the woman had been overworked for the past few months. She’d done an amazing job with her father’s campaign, and with all her efforts paying off, she deserved some down time. Taylor was happy to provide and indulge in that with her -- not that she didn’t usually, already. “Hm, ten? We could do brunch and then head to the spa?” Taylor looked back up at Esme, questioning. “Sound like a date?”

The Winter Gala with plenty of snowflakes and plenty of people thinking they were special. Serge received his own invite because of his band, as well as the connections his incredibly social mother had and he nodded in reply. Those puppy eyes had him narrowing his with a quick look of amused suspicion. “Should’ve known you would have a hand in everything. Any hints on the nights festivities or should we keep it all a surprise until the weekend? Think you could save me a dance or will you be too run off your feet?” While she caught him up to speed with her little family, the waitress came with both their coffee orders and he took both cups with a quick smile of thanks and nodded his head towards the countertop by the large window overlooking the busy street. Plenty of people milling about as he passed her her coffee. “Paisley, that’s the new little one, huh?” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d met Taylor but longer than eight months, surely. Taking a sip of his beverage, he leaned an elbow against the countertop. “Band’s doin’ alright, everyone has their own projects they’re focusing on  right now but we’ll get the boys back together in no time. Unless you’ve heard something I haven’t,” he teased. 

Biting back an amused snicker, Taylor just patted Serge upon his shoulder lightly. “I don’t just have a hand in everything, darling. I hold the whole deck.” It was true, to an extent. Taylor had been inserting herself in almost every social circle in Wilmington since she was a teenager. When her father had taken office, she’d used his position to her own advantage on that front, learning everything she could about the very people who’d always taken it upon themselves to pry into her own personal life. “No sneak peeks,” Taylor told him with a small shake of her head and a knowing smirk. “And, yes. I will save a dance for you. But only if you serenade me during it,” she winked teasingly. 

Accepting her coffee once it was brought to her, Taylor silently thanked the waitress with a grin, using her stirrer to swirl away the steam. “Mhm,” she confirmed that Paisley was her newest arrival whilst gazing into her light brown drink. “Just the sweetest little thing you could imagine,” Taylor swooned about her daughter, always proud. “What about you -- any new projects in the works?”