Writing Workout  – You as POV.

You turned into Campground Road and wound your way to the entrance of  Kelvin Grove.  Ornate silver gates opened and a guard indicated the parking area. You stepped out onto the paving and hesitated for a moment. Then you walked into the venue. Trays of champagne drifted past and you nabbed a flute.

“Mingle,” you whispered to yourself.  But instead you stuck yourself behind  the Grand Piano.  Much as you revelled in the ambience, it was still intimidating.  Kelvin Grove was not somewhere you’d ever have imagined yourself and you needed some time to feel your way.

Platters of canapés appeared miraculously and you tasted a caviar topped blini which melted in your mouth.

“Our young protégé” was whispered.  The boss’s wife admired your cocktail dress and said you were “chic.”  The youngest partner plied you with champagne.  He kept asking if you felt comfortable.  As if you were likely to say no, anyway…

Edith Piaf’s Non, je regrette rien… drifted huskily through the crowd.  Women on the balcony drew in smoke and then puffed out thin wisps. You thought about joining them, but decided against it.

The announcement would be made soon and you felt for the piece of paper in your velvet jacket. You’d prepared a few words, just in case you were called on to respond.  You hoped you wouldn’t be.