But happy.
So, so happy.
My adrenaline was running wild with my endorphins, and I couldn’t stop grinning like a crazy thing as he helped me down the stairs and back to the dining table, where we sat in robes and finished up our pasta from earlier, enjoying it even though it was cold.
I loved it like this. Us. Laughing and talking and being so normal.
He poured us some more wine, and I loved the zing of the sweetness, and then he paused, staring over, and I found my belly fluttering to a whole new tune again.
“What?” I asked. “What are you thinking?”
He tipped his head and pondered, and then he spoke.
“I was just thinking you’re ready.”
I put down my wine glass, tipping my head to mirror him. “Ready for what?”
“Ready to lead the next auction,” he said, and my heart pounded like utter crazy.
“What?”
“You’re ready to lead the next auction,” he repeated. “On Friday. I know you can do it.”
I’d only dreamed of being the one at that podium and one day taking charge of the event, being responsible for matching the items with their highest value and the right bidder.
“But it’s soon,” I said. “I’m still just learning everything.”
His stare stayed strong. “You’re ready. I know it. This Friday will be your show.”
I couldn’t quite digest it, such a privilege. My heart couldn’t quite take it in, like so much of this amazing dreamland I’d found myself walking into.
To most people they wouldn’t even see it, what a big deal it was to be up at that stand, driving the bids higher. They wouldn’t see how important it was if you really loved the collectibles industry, how much skill was involved. How much knowledge and confidence and respect from the crowd you needed. So much instinct. So much tone.
“Do you want to?” he asked, and I couldn’t nod quickly enough.
“Hell yes I want to! I’ve wanted to since I was a little kid!”
“Then it’s Friday,” he told me. “The Friday show is yours.”
I’d had so many ambitions brewing since being in that office with him, but leading a show had always been the a big one. I’d seen so much already from working with people there, especially from working with him, and I had so many ideas coming through. So many thoughts. So many things I wanted to learn and give back to the business before having to leave.
But first I had to do this well. I had to show him I was capable – just as capable as he obviously believed I was.
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it so much. “Thank you for having so much belief in me.”
“I’ve always had belief in you,” he said. “And you’ve always proved me right. I know you will this time too.”
I would.
I really, really would.
We finished up the pasta and drank a bedtime glass of milk in the kitchen, then laughed as we showered and I fully comprehended how battered I was, even though it felt so good to know he’d been so deep.
He held me tight in bed, and again I felt so right with him, sleeping super soundly until his alarm went off early and I knew it was time for reality to kick back in.
Reality and a whole new facade of being normal. The normal young Faith Martin my parents weren’t ever prepared to see growing up.
I sighed and rolled to face him, opening sleepy eyes to meet his. “I have to head back home. Mum and Dad will be expecting me to eat breakfast and get changed for work after Holly’s place.”
“Of course, princess,” he said and kissed me.
I kissed him back with morning breath and the desire was too much.
Too much that I opened up easily for him and he fucked me so gently, there in his soft warm bed.
He kissed me again as we showered, told me that he’d miss me. And God how I’d miss him too.
He made me toast and orange juice before I went, and once again I had to be so careful how I wrapped my coat around myself, and so careful that my steps were small enough for my ass and pussy to take the walk home.
I took a steadying breath and headed on into the kitchen with a smile, putting a fresh load of toast in the toaster while Mum and Dad were making their porridge. I acted so normally, like this was just another standard day, keeping my smile bright and being careful not to wince as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, still wrapped in my coat and trying not to draw attention to it.
“Good night at Holly’s?” Dad asked, and I nodded as I buttered my toast.
“Yeah, it was good thanks,” I said. “Laughed a lot. Had fun.”
“You stayed over, then?” he pushed, and Mum was staring right over too.