Fade In (23 page)

“I hear what you're saying, but he said other stuff too. You weren't there. It gets stuck on repeat in my head.” I check my phone for the time. “It's almost nine. We need to get down to the theater. I'm not going to miss Monte Python to sit here and bitch about my fucked-up sex life.”

“Let's haul ass. Curtains are in fifteen.” She slugs back the last of her drink.

The show is killer. I laugh so hard my sides hurt. At intermission, the lines to the ladies’ are terribly long, but since Winnie has a friend in the crew, we are let backstage to use the talent washroom.
Bonus.

The whole night is fantastic.

After the show, I call Ray, hoping that he's still available, and he is. We ask him to meet us in an hour out front of the bar across the street from where we saw the show.

These bars are my favorite. The sunken bars. They always remind me of little rabbit holes. Like if we're below the street, no one can find us.

But they do find us—or Winnie, rather. She is bombarded as soon as we walk down the steps and into The Mez. We should have guessed though. The type of people who go to see The Book of Mormon
make up her fan base.

She smiles and takes pictures with fans, signing some of their playbills. It isn't all for nothing. We do get a few free drinks. As if we really needed them. I text Ray to come in and escort us out—it's that crazy. It makes me nervous as hell, but Winnie —always the performer—loves every second.

We drop her off at her building and Cooper meets her outside. He asks to see where Kurt grabbed my arm, but I brush him off. It's over and done. Winnie's right. I'm not going to let that ass-hat make me feel bad or pitied.

At home, I get ready for bed feeling happy and truly excited. I'm going to let whatever is meant to happen with me and Ben happen.

He knows that I want to keep things at a slow pace and I trust that he will, but on the off chance that he does try to make his move, I'm going to be prepared.

Eyes wide open.

I treat myself to a little pampering Saturday morning. Waking up early, I call my favorite salon for the works and it's like the heavens are smiling down on me, because they had an opening. Peaches.

With my iPod in tow, I get to the salon and let them do their worst. In a matter of hours, I'm a massaged, I’ve had a facial, a pedicure, and a manicure, and my hair has been rewashed, trimmed, and styled. I feel divine and my body rejuvenated.

There isn't anything like having your body in the shop for a few hours that can as thoroughly make you feel like a new woman. I can accomplish anything feeling like this. I'm ready for anything.

Ready for Ben.

It isn't until about two o'clock that I hear anything out of him. I'm glad to learn that my naughty leg picture didn't kill the poor man or send him running for the hills. He texted asking how my day is going and if I still want him to pick me up at six. I tell him about my full-body maintenance regime and that I'll have bells on.

Opting to conceal the mark left by Kurt, in hopes of the whole topic not coming up, I choose a backless black silk dress that has full sleeves. My favorite part of the dress is the jeweled pendant that hangs about halfway down my back. Functionally, it holds the shoulders up, but it looks so pretty. It's back jewelry.

The sleeves work in my favor, because the day turns out to be a bit on the dreary side and cool for May. Plus, paired with my out-of-this-world red Viviers and the sultry eyes I was masked with at the salon, I look like a temptress.

At about five thirty, I receive a text from my date—not my assistant.

Ben
: I'm a little early. May I come up?

Me
: I'm not all the way ready, but you can come up.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. I was ready at five. Like
ready
ready. Clutch packed. Lips glossed. Schpritzed from top to toe.

Ben
: I'm on my way up.

Minutes later, I hear the knocker at my door, which I find funny because Ben has a key. But I humor him and go to the door.

“Why are you knocking?” I ask through the door before pressing on the oversized door latch.

“Tatum, this is a date. A man doesn't just walk in on a woman. He knocks. So...” His voice fades off, inquiring as to whether I will play along and open up.

“That's silly. We know each other and you have a key. Come in whenever you want. It's unlocked.”

I'm walking back to the great room when I hear him open the door. I fully look over my shoulder to see his face. He stunned and stunning at the same time. Jaw open, he bends at the waist, his hand catching his weight on his thigh. I see him whisper, “Whoa.”

“Hi,” Is all I can manage to say.

Hearing his voice on the phone and on the other side of the door didn't ring home just how much I missed this man in only two short days, but seeing him here in my foyer audibly catching his breath is too much. Like a magnet, I turn to him, flipping the polarity in the room so that the attraction is front and center.

“That dress is dangerous,” I hear him say to me or to himself. I can't tell.

The temperature rises tens of degrees and I sway side to side, feeling the pendant run like a pendulum across my radiating skin.

“Are you going to come in?” I ask.

“Are you wearing that to the party, Tatum?”

He moves his long arm to shut the door behind him, not breaking our gaze. He's dressed in a tailored black suit with a skinny charcoal tie and a tight white dress shirt. He looks delicious. His hair is tamed down to the side, and he has just enough stubble to outline his strong jaw.

Who am I trying to kid? I want this man.

“Yes. Is there something wrong with the dress? I like it.” I look down at the mid-thigh cut and lift my arms to check if it’s ripped or still donning a tag.

“No. You look sensational, but damn, baby. Whoa,” he breathes and begins my way.

There is a second that I rethink my choice of attire, but I can't help but swim in the hungry pools of lust evident in his eyes. I made the right choice.

“Thank you. You look good. So good that I'm rethinking your work uniform, in fact. I could definitely get used to seeing you in a suit.”

In five long strides, he's in front of me, and the even though I'm fully clothed, I feel naked in front of him. His beautiful eyes sweep across my chest and body.

“I'm glad you're back.” I whisper.

“I'm glad that I'm back, too.” Ben's hand runs up the length of my arm and slowly retreats back down to my fingers. He comes closer still and presses the softest kiss on my neck. His warm lips part and I feel his tongue lightly stripe up my throat. “You smell incredible. You look like a siren,” he quietly states, so close that I feel the air of each syllable breeze into my ear.

I swallow and try to bring myself out of the heady trance that Ben has led me into. He alone has the ability to make my body purr, and I know we need to get out of here before this gets out of my control.

“I'm ready when you are. We should go.” I’m loath to leave, but I can't see how we'll make it out of here if we stay like this for any measure of time. I'm already ready to strip off this dress and do his bidding.

I'm in so much trouble.

“Good idea. I need a drink.” Ben takes a step back and runs his hand down his face. It's like he's tempted to do the things my mind is screaming at him to do to me. Can he hear my thoughts?

Can Agent Ben read minds? That would explain a lot.

Ray drives us to The Yard, and as expected, everything looks magical. It rained this morning, but not enough to steer the party inside. Instead, the light shower left everything looking crisp and clean.

The tables are covered in deep red linens and they look lovely with white candles in all different heights staggered atop them. The trees that outline the outdoor area are dimly lit with different sizes of glowing round orbs that sway in the light wind.

The band is on one side and they are finishing with their fine tuning and set-up as we arrive. The dance floor area is big, but it’s small enough that it keeps the feeling intimate. We arranged for them set up a portable bar closer to the dance floor and had the venue line the edge of the dance floor with pub tables without chairs, all adorned with while linens and blood-red lanterns. Along one side of the building, there are tables for gifts and the thank-you bags Ben and I had put together, which include gourmet chocolates, the card to the car service that we reserved for guests to use upon leaving, and a personal thank-you from the couple.

Everything is perfect.

“It looks great. Doesn't it?” Ben asks as he looks around at our work. Well, our planning, anyway.

“It does. It's much more romantic than I pictured. Winnie is going to love it.” As if on cue, I hear her gasp from behind me.

“Oh my God, you guys! It's gorgeous! Wow!”

Ben and I turn to greet the pair and easily see the gratitude and pleasure in their expressions. Cooper offers Ben his hand and gives him a bro hug. I heart stretches. My brother's a softy when it comes to putting that kind of smile on his fiancée's face. Then he hugs me. Hard. My still-mending ribs strain to stay together and I have to tap his back so he'll let up.

“Tater, you guys have out done yourselves. This is awesome.”

Winnie joins the hug. I'm sandwiched between my brother and my best friend. They rock me side to side, and I see Ben's megawatt smile. He's obviously thrilled, too.

“Okay, okay. Stop. Ben really did most of the work. Just have fun tonight. And remember we already have cars arranged to get you home, so bottoms up. Enjoy.”

They spin off, looking at all the tables, which also have pictures of them from throughout their relationship we had copied and framed. We really did do a great job.

Ben's shoulder nudges mine in recognition of our awesome party-planning skills.

I look at him. He's relaxed, and his eyes are alight with excitement.

“Now, pretty girl, what would you like to drink?” he asks as he leads me to the table next to Cooper and Winnie's designated one. I put my purse down and tap my pointer finger to my lip in contemplation.

“I think I want champagne. What do you want?”

“Well, of course I'm drinking what all secret agents drink.”

And we say at the same time, “Dry martini. Shaken, not stirred.” He kisses my forehead, and with his hand on the naked small of my back, he walks me to the bar.

The night's like a dream. Cooper and Winnie are laughing or smiling the entire time and the band is phenomenal. They do a mixture of classic standards and contemporary songs with an unusually cool loungey twist. They're lots of fun, and just about everyone dances all night.

Especially little Devon and Cynthia. They dance to almost every song. And when I leave to use the ladies’ room, I see him with her up against the wall behind some trees. That little fella has some macking skills if he gets a little nudge.

Cynthia looks really pretty tonight, too. Her normally half-up hair is all down and curled. She is wearing a hot little dress, and I actually couldn't believe it was her at first. I know that sounds rude, but she really looked different.

Janke cleans up too, by the way. He is sporting slim gray dress pants and a fitted black dress shirt. He looks sophisticated and sharp in his black square-framed glasses. That kid has his game face on. I couldn't be happier for them. They're so, ah, right for each other. I silently give myself a congratulatory pat on the back on the way into the bathroom.

Ben's been a perfect gentleman. My glass is never empty, and when I stand to leave the table, he stands and offers to go. When I introduce him, he shakes hands and kisses cheeks like a seasoned politician. He listens and engages in conversations, and everyone seems to like him.

I really like him.

Leaving the ladies' room and walking towards the entrance of our party area, I see Ben waiting for me just outside the glass doors. With his hands clasped behind his back, he sways in time to a song I can't hear from where I am. I have to take a minute and appreciate all of him.

He's such a beautiful man. His shoulders are strong and proud. His stance is one of a man who is confident and in charge. But even though he looks so big and masculine standing there, it's his mind and heart that are his most dangerous weapons. Piece by piece, they are breaking through my self-preserving will to keep everyone at arm's length.

Then he looks behind himself and catches me staring. He smiles and lifts his hand, gesturing in a ‘come here’ motion for me to go to him. Without hesitation, I do.

He opens the door and meets me, saying, “Dance with me.”

I smile. Right now, I'll follow him wherever he leads.

Just as we get to our spot on the dance floor, the soulful voice of the singer croons “These Arms of Mine.” Everything goes even more blurry than I'm used to, and I'm thankful that I don't have to worry about falling. Well, on the ground at least. Ben's already got me in his grasp, and I've never been safer.

His arms surround me completely, and he presses my body so close. Our shared space is only separate by a thin piece of silk and the most heavenly smelling Armani on the planet.