implore

verb

1. beg someone earnestly or desperately to do something

I made arrangements to meet Carlie and Teresa at the banquet venue, which was a large hotel in the city centre called the Old Gold Hotel, or what we like to call the Old O. It was Wallace's grandfather's first hotel he ever built. It has been upgraded and renovated numerous times over the years to keep up with modern trends, and now caters to young and old with sports bars and KTV bars in the lower floors and large grand ball rooms and entertainment halls in the upper floors.

The top floor holds a revolving restaurant that was awarded four stars by the Red Guild a few years back for their quality and fine dining. You can see the whole of the city skyline from the top floor, but at over two grand for a single person meal, it really does cater to the elite of the elite. I haven't even had a meal there, in this life time or the last.

Grant got out of the front passenger seat after we drove in and parked under the covered valet entrance of the hotel. A valet driver replaced him in the front seat. Grant then opened the back door to mum's luxury town car and held out a hand to help each of us out of the vehicle. Mum held one arm while I used a crutch with the other, and we walked to the entrance on red carpet as flashes of lights flickered all around us. We didn't stay long in the crowd and quickly entered the lobby.

A beautiful hotel entrance greeted us with staff standing nearby to direct us to the lifts and up to the ballroom where Wallace was holding his event.

Geometric shapes in dark shades of browns and charcoal threw shadows across the upper walls. Interestingly the ceiling was contrasted with tall windows letting in light from the dusky evening sky and street lights nearby. Light coloured grey carpets and hardwood floors rounded the dark ceiling design off nicely. Pewter coloured club chairs sat around geometric shaped coffee tables and all the little nooks and crannies were had tall telescope standing lamps scattered everywhere. Dark stands, light grey lamp shades. It was so very Wallace in every kind of way, masculine, powerful, strong. I really liked it, but wouldn't want to live in it.

The lifts were again, dark ceiling, high edgy lighting, light grey walls and floors. It seemed to be a theme running through the main parts of the hotel. Wallace met us at the entrance to the ballroom, like he'd been waiting there patiently for time eternally, but probably just received a message from a lobby worker to let him know his wife was arriving.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo with classic wide lapels and black bow tie. His waistcoat and shirt were also black. It was a black on black on black ensemble. When we moved closer to the tall, handsome business mogul, I noticed that his black inner waistcoat with the embroidered black Overmeyer Logo pattern matched my mother's waistcoat perfectly, except hers was white on white.

He kissed my mother's cheek, murmured something lovey in her ear that made her blush, then he turned to shake Grant's hand, welcoming them both in. I thought he was going to ignore me until he turned directly to me and stepped in, wrapping his long arms around me. He didn't let me go, either. All those deep emotions, that only Wallace seemed to draw out in me welled up and I nearly bawled my eyes out again. In public. Right at the beginning of the banquet night.

I looked at my mother around his shoulder, imploring her to help me out.

"OK, Wallace dear. You'll make her cry if you keep that up." My mum dragged him away, but he took my hand and placed it around his arm and held the other out to my mum who followed suit. I was still on crutches, so he carefully lead us carefully into the magnificent ballroom with Grant following behind us.

"Oh, is that Mr Overmeyer's daughter? She is looking lovely this year."

"Mrs Overmeyer is wonderful, so beautiful. I heard they were childhood sweethearts." The chatter started all around us, and I tried really hard to remove the blush from my face. I really did try, but I was never on the positive end of wide spread praise and admiration and I could tell my ears were starting to glow hot.

"You look lovely, Lily. I am really glad you were able to be here tonight. I apologise for what happened to your dress. It will be reimbursed." Wallace faced the ballroom full of well wishers, business partners, networking associates and murmured his apologies and compliments to me as we went.

The love and care I felt from both my mum and Wallace at that moment, it melted the frustrations and anger into a low burning simmering, enough that I felt like I could enjoy the night together with them. Until my step sister turned up, wearing my dress that she stole. I nearly screamed at her, but I realised in time that that was probably what she was expecting, her new step sister to make an embarrassing scene at the city's most important social event of the year.

"Daddy, congratulations on another successful year at Overmeyers. Brooke, you look amazing tonight, so beautiful. I am so blessed to have a step-mother so wonderful, such as you." She spoke in her sweet, caring, look-at-me-I'm-so-pure voice. It made me feel sick. She then turned to me and gave me the widest smile she could, then held out the hem of her – my – dress, and swung around asking her father if he liked her dress.

"I found the perfect dress for tonight, Daddy. It is a lurex jacquard dress by a designer called Vallance. Isn't it just perfect for me?" Half way through her sentence, she dropped the sweet girl act, and dared her father to make a fuss, to reprimand and discipline her in front of a thousand guests and media.

The smile on her dark red lips morphed into a I-will-get-away-with-this smile, full of arrogance and ridicule. Her eyes turned sharp, like a baby wanna-be predator. Whether this was aimed at her dad or mum and I, I didn't know, but it really pissed me off. Because she was correct. Here and now was not the time or place to take her down a peg or two, nor should we air our family laundry so out in the open like this.

I looked down at the floor, then out across the crowd of banquet part goers. Many of the wealthy and high society guests were watching us as a whole family, watching out interactions and our relational by-play. I took a deep breath silently, then let it out. With a mental age of nearly thirty, I really did feel her stupid little games were really childish. I didn't want to get involved with that... girl, that little thing any more, but I didn't want anyone in the ballroom to get the wrong idea with regards to Wallace, my mother and me.

I looked up at Wallace, and he leaned down to listen to what I had to say. I gave him a peck on the cheek instead, squeezed his arm while smiling then proudly walked away.