I sigh, folding my hands together since I don’t have a cup to occupy them. “Well, my point being that you didn’t have to schedule a party on Valentine’s Day.”
She meets my eyes, daring me to disagree. “I think Valentine’s Day is a perfect day for a party. Everyone should feel lovely and happy and beautiful, and a party is a good way to do that.”
I don’t say anything.
She takes a sip before she starts in on the questions that I already know are coming, but are hard just the same. “I know you don’t think highly of this day, but I’m just trying to do my part to make sure you’re happy since you don’t seem to be taking that responsibility for yourself.”
“Mom,” I say, trying to keep a patient tone. “I am happy. Just because it might not be happy in the way you expected doesn’t mean that it’s not valid.”
“You need a woman, Eric. A good one. Men don’t do well alone. They get crazy ideas in their heads and then they do crazy things. You need a woman, and you need one soon. you’re not getting any younger.”
I grit my teeth together, trying to breathe through my frustration. “Forcing me into it isn’t the way to try to achieve that.”
“Are you bringing a date to the party?”
I nod. “You made it a requirement, so yes, I’m bringing date to the party.”
“So my way seems to be working just fine,” she grins. “Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Sally Landing,” I say, scrubbing my hands over my face. “She’s very nice. I like her.”
“That’s good!” my mom says. “How long have you been seeing each other. Is it serious?”
“Not that long. Listen, Mom, what do you need help with? I do need to spend some time at the office today before I come back.” I feel bad for being so brusque, but I can’t do this. I can’t sit and pretend that everything is fine like we both don’t remember what happened in this room on this day. I don’t want to brush it aside like she seems to want to do, and I’m already going to have to spend enough time here tonight.
She sighs dramatically. “Fine.” Standing, she leads me into the main foyer where there’s a stack of boxes that are very obviously not storing party decorations. “These are the last of the boxes,” she says. “I don’t want them here. Can you please take them and get rid of them? I don’t want them in the house for the party.”
“Why haven’t you had someone throw them away?” This isn’t an accusation, it’s actual curiosity.
“Because,” she says, “it has to be someone I know.”
She doesn’t trust anyone else with this, is what she’s telling me. On the one hand it’s sweet, and I’m glad that my mother trusts me and wants me to help. On the other hand, I don’t want to touch those boxes with a ten-foot-pole.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll take care of them, and I’ll see you tonight.”
She steps in front of me and puts her hand up to my cheek. “I really do have your best interest at heart, Eric. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know, Mom. I’ll see you later.”
She quickly retreats, calling for the ladder boys to climb to their places again so they can adjust the drapes. I work on getting the boxes into the back of my car. It seems a little strange going against the grain of so many people bringing things into the house, but after a few trips I get it done.
I really don’t want things to be strained with Mom. I don’t. But I don’t want to be pushed. I don’t want to be forced. And she’s going to force me to remember tonight by having a party on fucking Valentine’s Day.
I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. Ever since it all happened, it’s been falling apart between us. There are things that we need to say to each other that can’t be said, and it’s stifling. She needs to back off and realize that I need space, and I need to own up to the fact that I’m still dwelling on it. Neither of us are perfect.
But I also know that today is not the day that things are going to be solved between us. So I’ll take these boxes and go to the office and I’ll get through the party tonight, and maybe tomorrow I can talk with Bianca about how the hell I can actually start to fix this. Because it does need to be fixed. Mom isn’t getting younger, and I don’t want things to get worse. If there’s anything that all of this has taught me it’s that anything can happen. Even the things that you least expect in the world.
I get in the car and watch for a minute as the unloading of the decorations continues. I see special dishes and flowers and plates. This is going to be so much fun. And by fun, I mean I’m dreading every second.
But Sally will be with me, and for her sake I’m going to try to not be in a miserable funk the whole evening. But if I had my way, we’d spend it alone, doing other, much sexier things. But that’s going to have to wait.
I start the car and head back toward the city and the office.
11
Sally
There’s an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as I watch the car pull up from the window. This isn’t the same car from yesterday, this is a full-on limousine, and I can’t believe that this is real.
Iris was here earlier to do my hair and make-up and she’s enjoying living for this story as much as I’m enjoying living in this story. I never imagined I’d lose my firsts so quickly, but I’m good. I woke up again feeling like it was a dream. The best dream.
And this time I was sure that it was real because I was so tired that I fell asleep in my dress. And the fact that I’m wearing this gorgeous purple gown is another clue. Though I will admit that I’ve pinched myself a couple of times today.
Especially when Iris suggested—multiple times in multiple graphic ways—that I could lose my virginity tonight. Part of me wants to wait, to keep this longing and tension going as long as we can handle it. And the other, louder part of me wants to let him take me to bed and do whatever he wants. Because whatever he wants to do will be so fucking good, and I know he’s not going to hurt me or go too fast. All of this flashes in my brain while I watch the limo pull up to my building.
If my neighbors look outside right now they’re going to be so confused. This isn’t a neighborhood that gets cars like this. The sleek black town car Eric appeared in last night was enough to raise some eyebrows in the building.
There’s a little bubble of joy in my chest. I feel like Cinderella right now, minus the very uncomfortable glass shoes. There’s never a time in my life that I thought I would be grateful for almost killing someone or for the wrath of Mr. Ferguson, but I am very grateful for those things, because those are the things that led to this exact moment where I’m watching Eric step out of the limousine in a tux that has accents the color of my dress. He has a little box with flowers in his hand and I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face.
Today is Valentine’s Day, and I have a date. Not only that, it’s with Eric, who’s amazing and sexy and somehow, inexplicably wants me when he could have his pick of literally any woman in the world.
He rings the doorbell and I take a breath. There are nerves and butterflies in my stomach and even though this is kind of déjà vu, it feels so much more significant. Important. I grab the little clutch that goes with the gown, my wrap, and head outside. He’s standing by the limo, waiting for me, and for a second I feel like I’m in a romantic comedy.
At least I hope that I am. Romantic comedies always have a happy ending.
The wind catches my dress and blows it to the side like I’m in a photo shoot, and I smile at Eric. He smiles back, taking me in. His eyes drift from my face down to the strapless neckline and down the skirt and back. That gaze is intimate, like a caress, and it makes me shiver even though the evening is warm.
He comes closer, and I can’t breathe, because he’s not real. Eric’s hair is still damp from a shower, and the tuxedo he’s wearing is fitted to him like a glove. That perfect body that has held me and made me feel unimaginable pleasure is something that I can’t ignore. Not when
he’s wearing that.
“Wow,” he says.
“I was kind of thinking the same thing.”
He leans down and kisses me, once again ignoring my lipstick. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s starts out that way but touching him feels like it releases something inside of me that’s been waiting to surface, and suddenly I’m clinging to him, kissing him back while he devours my mouth, and I don’t think I’ll make it the whole night if my body is going to feel like this.
Everything in me is soaking with need, down to my soul, and I open my mouth to him and let our tongues dance. A moan comes from my throat and this is all I want to do for the next century. I could get lost in his lips, because his kisses are amazing even if I didn’t know that what comes after is more and brighter and better.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I whisper as I break apart.
Eric makes a face. “I’m not convinced about that, but it doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you.” He holds out the box, opening it. “I thought you might like these.”
It’s a wrist corsage, a beautiful purple orchid and smaller white flowers arranged in a mini bouquet. I can’t stop smiling while he puts it on my wrist, and it matches my gown. “It’s perfect,” I say.
“Not too cheesy?”
“No, I love it.” My cheeks are going to hurt from smiling so much by the end of the night. “I didn’t go to prom, so I’ve never gotten to wear one. Thank you.”
I reach out and take his hand as he kisses me again, softly this time. “I wish we didn’t have to go,” he says. “I think this is more fun.”
“I think there would probably be people who would be upset if you didn’t show up to your own family’s party.”
“You’re right, unfortunately. Though I think I could probably make enough excuses.”
I laugh. “Is it terrible that I want both? I want to run away with you but you also bought me a pretty dress and I want to show it off.”