what are you hiding?
The names and locations have been altered for the art of storytelling. Any similarities to any specific persons, or you the reader, simply indicate that you too are a Silkie Girl.
With another chaotic week behind me, Friday felt like a God send. Between school and social events my head nearly spun off but tonight was guaranteed fun: a masquerade party in wine country. Am I big on wine? I’m not sure I’d say yes but I am big on themed parties. I had read about this event online and even though I don’t have a ticket I feel confident I can get in. If I act like I’m supposed to be there, I can’t see why I’d be refused entry.
All day #masquerade2K18 was filling my Instagram feed. From elaborate masks to wine sponsors – this event was going to be huge, I decided to go bold and rock a makeup mask because let’s be real…everyone takes the masks off and reveals their identities anyway. I have nothing to hide. Naturally I couldn’t choose my makeup until my outfit had been chosen. Based on the popularity of this event I knew I needed something shocking and bold but still fun and classy. The obvious choice was my Dee Silkie millennial pink Olsen slip tucked into my matching colored Bradshaw Skirt. If I said pink was my favorite color id could be an understatement.
Because of my very pink outfit I choose to use teal for my faux-mask, allowing my blue eyes to naturally pop. With my makeup done, I decide on ringlette curls to frame my face. I slip into the full skirt, tying the delicate bow at the back, slipping my perfume roller and lipstick into a skirt pocket. I tuck the Olsen slip into the skirt and take a second to admire the smooth silk: not a crease to be found – flawless. Double checking my reflection and that I’m fashionably late I throw on my shaggy wool pink coat and head to the street where my uber is waiting.
The winery’s wines illuminated in the night is inviting as the uber pulls up to the large building. I step out and can hear the party going on from the manicured kawn. I stand in line with the others guests and wait patiently.
“Name?” The big bouncer asks, looking me in the eyes.
“Quinn.” I mumble, knowing I’m not on the list.
“What is it again?”
I repeat it, adding “I know Kendall, don’t worry!” and slip past him. Before he can stop me I’m in the crowd with a glass of some kind of white wine in my hand.
I drape my coat over my shoulders, and wander from room to room. I pass a few rooms, seeing people getting expertise knowledge from sommeliers as they sip and taste wines. I find the room with the DJ and dance party and make my way around the room, saying hi to a few socialites I know. I recognize some people who work as television stylists, some YouTube makeup gurus and a few girls from school who’s father’s own shares in the wine country business.
As I make my rounds I spot a guy who couldn’t look more out of place if he tried. He had a black leather jacket on, stark white button down tucked in to dark jeans and he was holding a glass of red wine hanging from his fingertips – he wasn’t even holding the stem. As soon as we made eye contact I had to will myself not to look away. His gaze was strong, and I was never one to back down or feel challenged, but something about him made me feel shy even though I loved bad boys. I decide to take a sip of my wine and walk over, slipping a hand in one pocket.
“Surprised they let you in without following the dress code. Thought they’d be more strict about it.” I tease, smirking at him.
His eyes are a bright blue from up close, like the Mediterranean Sea.
“And aren’t you the girl I saw sneak past security?” He narrows his eyes at me playfully.
“They just forgot to put me on the list – careless mistake. No harm done anyway, I’m usually a good girl at events like these.”
“Does a good girl like you have a name?” He extends his hand to me.
“Quinn.” I smile, extending my hand.
“Colby.” He grins, his smile just slightly raising to one side.
After we exchange names and make small talk about the DJ’s choice in playing rap and country one after the other, we wander out to the hallway.
“Want to see something cool?” He asks, his jawline more pronounced in this lighting.
“Like what?” I challenge.
“Just trust me.” Colby says, grabbing my hand and leading me out the back door.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“Just another building. Don’t worry.” His eyes glimmer, even in the dark.
“You’re a stranger. An attractive stranger, but a stranger no less – in the movies this is where the pretty girl dies.”
“This isn’t a movie, this is a party at a winery. Come on. It’s actually cool, and like, historic. Not weird.”
I sigh and follow him down the stairs, keeping a hand on the phone in my pockets.
“There’s another event here tomorrow?” I ask, pointing to a sign on the wall. “This place is always busy.”
“That’s how we like it.”
“We?” I ask.
He turns on the lights and I see hundreds of casks of wine surrounding us, lit by dangling ceiling lights that lined up above a table the length of the room. The room smells strongly of wine.
“Woah.” I whisper.
“So this is my family’s winery. Maybe now I can actually put you on the next guest list.”
I feel my face flush red with embarrassment. “Oh my god. I’m so –“
“Don’t be sorry. It was cute watching you squeeze by security.” Colby grins.
“Okay so why are we down here?” I ask, changing the subject instantly, walking around to the long end of the table and sitting on it.
“As much as these parties are fun, and obviously help business, it’s not really my scene.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.” I feign sarcasm.
“What gave it away? Not complying to dress code?”
“That was hint one.” I laugh. “So tell me about the history in this room, since you mentioned this was cool and historical.”
Colby starts explaining how his family came into wine country business, how he helps out while still in school and a lot of the process of what goes into making wine.
“That’s really fascinating.”
“I think it is, but I’m biased.” He laughs.
At this point we’re sitting side by side.
“I should go back to playing host.” He says.
“Oh! Yeah. Of course.”
He helps me off the table and instantly pulls me into him, waiting a beat before gently kissing my lips. Smiling as he pulls away, I have a feeling that this won’t be the last time Colby and I see each other.