Charlie
It was half past nine, and Mary Margaret still hadn't made her appearance. Charlie slipped his pocket watch back inside of his jacket and took another sip of his drink. Surely, she'd be there soon. What could possibly be keeping her?
"It's not like her to be late," Alise mentioned, sliding up next to him.
"She said she'd be here at nine," Charlie sighed. "You're certain she's not here?"
"I don't see her," the debutante replied.
"At least you know what she looks like," Charlie muttered.
"I told you. She's tall with blonde hair and a witty smile. She'll light up the room as soon as she walks in, and half a dozen young fellows will trip over themselves scrambling to have their turn to spin her around the dance floor. She dances like a a swan."
Charlie couldn't help but chuckl
