The chatter of the high class club-which could hardly be called a club-was soft and dainty as so many of the men and women who attended were. Lorenzo was sitting beside his aunt as he cut a dainty piece of steak and dipped it into sauce with an appropriate slowness. He wasn’t hungry but the only two options here were to eat or talk to ladies. He chose the former.

That was his excuse until his Aunt Terse gladly allowed three ladies dressed in elegant frills and silks to sit at their table. It was a great honor for anyone to be allowed to sit at the La Russa table. And Lorenzo politely greeted them and dipped his head. Thankful that they were all sitting so he didn’t have to bow and kiss hands. He hated kissing hands. Nothing wrong with lady hands. They were soft, and nice, but not what he preferred. Not even close.

Lorenzo stayed out of the conversation for the most part and watched as the ladies each adjusted their gowns trying to be sneaky about pushing their chests up. Lorenzo wanted so badly to excuse himself and leave. But he couldn’t.

As the night continued on he learned that the lady in green was Mary Frank. The lady in purple, a very nice color, was Elizabeth Frank. The two were sisters and the last lady who was dressed in a deep red was Veronica Kerry.

The names registered in his mind and that was about all. All high class people were supposed to remember names, it was unbecoming to have to ask again.

Lorenzo ate his steak slowly as he watched the room in boredom.

Well it was boredom until he saw a man taller than any male of highborn standing. A man that was heading right towards his table. Lorenzo almost spit his steak out as he saw the man, dressed in a simple sailors outfit, so out of place from everyone else. Oh god, Lorenzo thought as he eyes glued to the man and refused to move elsewhere despite the rudeness of his staring.

Lorenzo only snapped out of it when he heard Mary perk up in her shrill voice.

“{{user}}! I thought you wouldn’t be home until next week?”