Fessing Up

by Guest Sat Mar 21, 2009 4:05 am

Well, here she was again. Approaching the door. Again. Antoinette was starting to feel like a serial confessor at the Jones Residence. It would have been fine if she was coming for tea, or something, but she was going to have to come clean to Baron Quinton, and she just wasn’t sure how this was going to go. Especially after she had been “such” a spoiled rotten brat about getting her car back. And he’d done such a nice job having it painted for her.

Antoinette opened the door and quietly let herself in. She still had a hard time with that, as if she were breaking into someone’s house. The lights were mostly off, and Mr. Hostwick didn’t seem to be around at all. It must be really late. She should just go; she should have checked the time and not have come so late. But just as she reached back for the door to let herself out, a figure appeared at the top landing of the massive staircase.

“Antoinette. What is it you need?”

She stopped in mid-step and closed the door again. “Your Excellency? Had you already retired for the day? I’m so sorry to have bothered you. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Really? If you’re not careful, you’ll be caught in the sun.”

“Um, I really hadn’t planned to stay long. I just needed to, uh, tell you something. And thought it best that I do it in person.”

Baron Quinton raised his eyebrows. “Very well. Go to the library and wait for me. I will meet you there shortly.”

Antoinette made her way there and sat down on the couch. The air was cool and still – almost uncomfortably heavy. She sat for what seemed an eternity and nervously pulled at the cuffs on her sleeves, absently counting each delicate stitch.

Finally, when she thought she simply could not take it any longer, Baron Quinton appeared, finding his usual seat across from her. And with a calm, slow smile, he addressed her “Yes? What is it that brings you out at this early hour, my childe?”

“Well,” Oh, just spit it out Antoinette – it’s not going to get any easier. “Well, here’s the deal.” She stood and began to pace. That always helped her with her stories. “See, after the Lash show, Neil and I decided to go for a drive in the car, and,”

“Who’s Neil?”

“Neil. You know Neil. Neil.”

“Neil who?”

Antoinette didn’t know his last name actually. Jesus. How did Quinton DO this? “’Ventrue Neil’. He was at the meeting the other night. It was at the club he is opening.”

“Oh. ‘Ventrue’ Neil.” His tone was mocking. And it was driving her nuts. She should have been more prepared.

“Anyway, we went driving and,”

“What car?”

“Your Excellency, MY car!”

“Childe, you don’t need to raise your voice. I’m in the same room with you.”

Oh. He was infuriating. “We were driving. We went for a drive, and,”

“Yes, you did mention that once or twice.”

She was going to lose it. So it all came out. “We bet the registration in a race and we lost the car.” Ha. There. She’d said it. She cringed and met his eyes, waiting for some sort of reaction.

Baron Quinton laughed. “Yes, I know.”

Antoinette was stunned. “You know.”

“Of course. You think anything happens in this City without me knowing about it? You have so much to learn, my dear. But you will. I have much faith in you.” His smile softened. He wasn’t laughing at her any longer.

“So, what. You’re not mad I just lost my $500,000 car in a street race? God, my Dad would have completely flipped. And grounded me for eternity.”

“Do you need to be grounded?”

“No.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your father. Let’s do something productive instead. How are you going to fix this situation.”

She loved this man. She really, really did. “Well, it’s funny you should mention it. Neil and I were hoping to go to Italy and try to pick up an Enzo FXX. I think that’s what I’d really like to have next. It’s about time I had a Ferrari.”

“Antoinette, we’ve had this discussion before. Unless I’ve suddenly lost my mind and released you, you are not traveling to another County without me, let alone another Country. Especially with ‘Ventrue’ Neil.”

She’d never forgive herself for not knowing his last name. But here was another opportunity in the making. It was a long shot, but she could see a window opening. Maybe. “Would you?” she whispered it, not wanting to jinx it, hardly daring to hope. “Would you go with me?”

Baron Quinton smiled and picked up his planner from the table. “I suspected this might come up. The plane is available on Tuesday, if you want to go then. Otherwise I’m booked for pretty much the rest of the month.”

Antoinette jumped up and squealed in glee! Yessss! She threw herself at Quinton and gave him little kisses everywhere. Sweet little kisses. “Thank you so much, you are the sweetest Sire a girl could ever, ever, ever, ever have!” More kisses, until Baron Quinton stood up and set her on her feet steady.

“You’re welcome. Be packed and ready to go when the car comes at 7:45pm. on Tuesday.”

Suddenly she remembered; Neil's club opening on Wednesday. “Your Excellency. I forgot, the opening for Neil’s club is on Wednesday evening. Could we attend that and then head out right after? Maybe cut the trip short by a day or something?”

He gave her a look. “No Antoinette. This is when we’re going. You need to decide what your priority is. If I need to cancel the plane, please let me know immediately.” He waited for her answer.

She was crestfallen. She knew Neil would be really disappointed; just as much as she was. But she knew if she didn’t take advantage of this, there would not be a second chance. She just knew. “I’ll be ready Tuesday at 7:45pm. Thank you.”

He kissed her forehead, obviously pleased with her decision, and showed her to the door. She needed to get herself home before the sunlight came.

As she walks out to the waiting car, she could hear his voice one last time. “It's Neil Coben."