Show & Sell

“Finn, I’m so glad I ran into you tonight—and with a date, no less! This is my husband, Bobby. We’re so sorry to hear about your father but are equally glad to hear that you and your brothers are taking over the business. It will do extremely well,” a woman says.

She’s wrapped head to toe in fur and diamonds. My dress is nice, but suddenly I feel naked compared to her.

Finn doesn’t seem to think so.

I catch the look of pride on his face as he introduces me. “And this gorgeous woman is my date, Aurora. Aurora, please meet Mr. and Mrs. Langston, friends of my late father.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you, dear,” she says, patting my outstretched hand.

Finn kisses her on the cheek, and we make our way through the crowd.

All manner of people engages with Finn, and he always introduces me with a special flourish. I’m getting to know the New York society set, and I guess it’s not too bad.

Finally, we make our way to the private opera box he’s had arranged for us. He orders us a bottle of wine to share, a rare vintage. The opera is about to begin.

I take the golden binoculars that are on my seat and peer down at all the people, but mostly at the stage. The show begins, and I become entranced.

The opera has a way of transporting you to another time, a time held in the feeling of the music. It has a way of making me forget about my problems as I’m transported into the world of the characters.

I’m enthralled by the music, but most of all, I’m enthralled by Finn, the handsome man sitting next to me.

He rubs my back, and we share a moment, both united in the beauty of the music. I feel like I’ve known him my entire life. We have an instant rapport.

I sip my wine and can’t help but think of other things to come.

I let myself get lost in the moment. I let myself get lost in him.

What’s the harm?Chapter 19Finn

Do I feel bad that I’ve broken the verbal contract my brothers and I made?

Not one fucking bit.

I couldn’t stay away from her for one more moment, and I now I don’t have to. She’s a vision in red, looking over the railing at the people below.

“Tell me, Finn,” Aurora turns toward me. “What do you do for work?”

I furrow my brow. I didn’t take her out to be talking about my fucking work.

“Let’s not talk about work.” I counter. “I mean, who wants to talk about work at the opera with such charming company as this?”

Her lips curl up into a smile.

She shrugs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as boring. And I know plenty of people don’t like talking about their work, but then again, plenty of people do.”

Instantly, I regret my choice of words. I don’t want her to feel as if she’s done the wrong thing.

“It’s not your fault at all,” I start and stop.

The lights are being dimmed and the curtains are being drawn back, the show about to start.

All I have eyes for is the goddess to my right.

Turns out she isn’t only exquisitely beautiful, she’s also smart, kind, sensitive, and caring. In a word: she’s fucking perfect.

I still can’t believe she’s here with me. My plan worked. I asked her out, and she agreed to come.

And she looks simply awesome tonight. Red velvet is a stunning fabric on her. Her long blonde hair has been styled up somehow, exposing a delicate swan-like neck. I just want to sink my teeth into it like a goddamn vampire

She shoots me a sideways glance. I can’t keep my eyes off her.

“Thank you so much,” she whispers. “I’ve never been to the opera before. It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?”

I drown in those blue eyes of hers. They suck me in and take me under.

“I think there’s something much more exciting here tonight. And it’s sitting right next to me.”

At my words, she blushes.

Fuck, she looks even hotter with those cheeks a little redder.

“And I hope the night will live up to your expectations.”

Poor Aurora. Her eyes widen, and I know she’s understood the innuendo.

“I’m sure it will,” she whispers as the music starts below.

She leans forward a little, which gives me prime view of the gap between her tits. Pink lace of a silk bra hides those delicious nipples from my sight.

Her breathing is a little fast and shallow already. I can see it from where I’m sitting.

My hand moves from the back of her seat to her naked back.

A moan escapes her lips. My index finger traces tiny circles on the back of her neck.

“The trick in any opera,” I whisper into her ear, “is not to get bored.”

She nods, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the stage.