Webs

Chapter 2: Alex Murphy

SOPHIA P.O.V

Where was she? My eyes darted across the room like a detective who had information about an impending terrorist attack. It was time for Mr. Ford to give his speech. I was particularly looking forward to this part of the program. Charity. I adjusted my delicate silver necklace.

It had to be perfect. It was my duty to make sure everything was perfect.

I joined in the rapturous ovation. Clapping hands reverberated through the hall as the host journeyed in between short pauses of salutations and well-wishes. It was Mr. Ford’s fiftieth birthday, and he wanted to make it extra special by hosting this gala, doubling as a charitable event for children in the community who suffered mental disabilities.

“Thank you. Thank you all. You are too kind.” He started, drowning the applause. “Thirty-two years ago, I was a child who hated school. I know, I am not special.” Mr Ford waited a few seconds for the laughter from the crowd to subside, then he continued. “But I didn’t hate school because I had a fun video game to play and instead I was forced to waste time learning what I had no desire to learn; or I had trouble assimilating what was taught. I hated going to school… I hated going to school because I was bullied, constantly, many times for five days a week. For a nine-year-old, it would be hell. Imagine what an eighteen-year-old in seventh grade felt. I hated going to school, but who could I complain to? The social worker who had the dishonour of catering for me when each family turned down each chance to take a kid with schizophrenia? I was a kid with special needs, but I was the kid with the least need, if at all. I was ostracized and mocked, even by those who were supposed to take care of me. I fought, even if it was futile. They thought I was mad, but I was misunderstood. I may have longed for death, but God had other plans.” Mr. Ford reached for his pocket and snatched his handkerchief, mopping his eyes.

“I promise you this is the first time my lashes tasted so much salt.” This. This was one of his most admirable traits. So charming. Only Mr. Ford could turn a dirge into comedy.

“This is not a birthday celebration, this is a celebration of possibility. A celebration of life. A celebration of society, of yourselves. A toast to humanity. To love. To fighting. I fought, and I will only stop fighting after my death for these kids. So please everyone, save lives, save the misunderstood kids. Thank you.” He stepped down from the pulpit to an even more glorious ovation. He was an inspiration to all—a schizophrenic kid who somehow beat all odds to become one of the most influential men in the continent. My facial muscles held my smile wide and bright as I soaked myself in each step he took. Amazing.

Ooh. There he was. Who wears a frown to a charity gala? My eyes lingered on his lips. His rugged features and piercing grey eyes commanded attention, but why was he frowning… and lonely?

“Hey!”

I jumped, spilling the fine champagne that now fizzled in my glass cup.

“Oh my god, Diane!”

“Are you all right? Why were you so scared?”

“I wasn’t.” I sighed. “Oh my, what happened to your finger?” Diane swooped in, grabbing my hand. She always had that motherly instinct. Whatever it is anyway.

I had forgotten about the finger, but now, it ached.

“It’s nothing. And where have you been? You were supposed to be here with me all through the day.”

“If you picked up your calls, maybe I would have seen you sooner. Where were you? Hanging over some boy?”

What! I took offence to that.

“You know very much how I feel about that subject.” I withdrew my hand from hers. “You cannot remain single forever, baby girl. You have to let someone love you.” Diane never stopped preaching about how I was lonely and needed a male companion in my life. What she never seemed to get is there are many ways to not be lonely, without the other species being involved!

I rolled my eyes, “I am not interested. If you didn’t have Michael though, maybe…”

“Shut the f**k up, you nasty work addict!”

“Ladies, good evening. Diane, I see you are surrounding yourself with beauty.” A deep, masculine voice spoke from behind me. I turned around.

Uh… why was he here? Car jerk!

“You look good. I can’t say I am surprised by that.” He continued flowing well with Diane but his words flew past my ears, and I simply was too stunned to speak. Why was she so free with him? Maybe if I wave her she will realize I’m still there?

Um, hello dear friend. I am still here. Whatever is going on? Wow. She is even kikiing now. What’s all that fake laughter? I rolled my eyes.

“Oh sorry. Alex Murphy, this is Sophia Thompson, my very good friend and the genius behind today’s event.”

About time.

Okay, why was he staring at me like that? Duh. Wanna take a picture? And why was I staring back like that… too? I should break the eye contact—No! He should be the one to break it first, he stared at me first. Car jerk!

“Sophia.” His voice was low and smooth. “Your work is impressive, although I’m not sure I approve of the open bar.”

Excuse you? Who the hell did he think he was? I have been doing this for years. Obviously, he is some billionaire daddy’s boy who had no idea what a day’s worth of work was like. Just go around ordering things and people. And clearly being a jerk.

“And why is that, Mr. Alex?”

“Alex, please.” He leaned in, his voice taking on a conspirational tone. “I’ve seen what happens when you mix wealthy donors with free champagne. It’s a recipe for disaster.”

Of course, he would know.

“I suppose we should be glad they are donating money then, maybe they’ll get more excited. And I assure you Mr. Alex, my events are always thoroughly thought through.”

“If you believe that.” His tone was sarcastic and disagreeing. My heart pricked, and my professional pride hurt. “And why do you not, Mr. Alex?”

That darn smirk!

“Maybe if you could differentiate a first name from the last, I would be more convinced. Maybe.”

“Okay, okay. Guys, we need to join others now, it is time for donations.” Diane cut in.

My eyes must have been the coloursss my heart bled, but he seemed unfazed. I couldn’t shake off the feeling he would be a force to be reckoned with. Our evening was just beginning.