Erik (Arizona Vengeance 2)
Blue holds out her wrists and examines the bracelet I’d given her tonight. It’s an 18K white-gold bangle with forty-eight brilliant round diamonds, total of five carats. She tried to refuse it when I gave it to her this morning so I had to fuck her silent. She accepted it after that but only because I think she was too wrecked from the orgasms I’d given her.
I had wanted to get the matching necklace too, but it only came in a sixteen-inch length and I’ve observed Blue tugging at her uniform scarf around her neck enough to know she doesn’t like anything but my lips constricting that area. So I went with just the bracelet.
Her eyes lift up to mine and her smile is the most genuine thing that has ever been handed to me before. “You’re incredible, Erik. I really, really think you are the most amazing man I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”
“That’s perfect,” I say with a laugh and hold my arm out to her. “Because I think the same of you. Now let’s go show our total awesomeness to these people.”
We enter the ballroom and immediately hit a throng of people. It’s like prom night all over again. There’s a live band and a rotating crystal ball above the dance floor. The lights are muted low and several round tables that seat eight are scattered about. Tuxedoed waiters walk around with silver trays of finger foods and glasses of red and white wine. Flowers and streamers in green and white decorate the space and I’m guessing those are their high school colors.
It’s a weird attempt to re-create a high school dance in an adult, country-club environment. While the Desert Sun Country Club is private and has a fairly nice golf course attached, it’s not in the upper echelon of clubs. Still, the woman that put this on had to spend some big money since there was no fee to attend and help defray costs.
The lead singer of the band announces they’re taking a break and the people on the dance floor break apart and return to tables, others heading up to what looks like a cash liquor bar. Without the music, the din of a few hundred people talking buzzes in the air.
“Blue,” a woman calls out and we both turn that way.
A petite woman with curly hair just above her shoulder walks quickly toward us with a glass of red wine in her hand. She has a bright smile and a quick glance at Blue shows she’s got a reciprocal one on her face.
The women hug, exclaim over how good the other looks, and then hug again. When they break apart, Blue introduces me to her high school swim teammate, Ellen Richman.
“Ellen went east after high school,” Blue explains to me. “Swam for Duke and still lives in North Carolina.”
“Athletic and smart,” I say as I shake her hand.
“Did you see Her Royal Highness?” Ellen asks Blue in a conspiratorially low voice, nodding her head across the dance floor.
I turn my attention that way, taking note of three women standing together. They’re talking but it’s clear they’re talking about other people around them. They’re intently staring at a woman not ten feet away with smirks on their faces, and then they incline their heads in and whisper to each other as they eyeball her down their noses.
“That’s Christina Hodgins,” Ellen explains to me with another nod. “The woman in the ivory dress. She put on this little party and loves spending her husband’s money. His name is TJ and he’s a big real estate developer around here. The woman in the red dress is her mean girls’ cohort, Krystal Breen. She’s a pediatric nurse at the hospital and is sleeping with more than one doctor there. I’m dying to see who she brought as her date. And the third is Belinda Montenegro. She left her husband of one year for her shrink who’s twenty-four years older than her.”
I stare at Ellen with my mouth open in surprise. Blue laughs while Ellen explains, “My sister still lives here in Phoenix and is actually a nurse at the same hospital Krystal works at. She hears all the gossip and duly reports it to me.”
I decide I immediately like Ellen.
Keeping my arm around Blue’s waist, I listen while the women reminisce and catch up on recent happenings. At one point, Ellen includes me in on the conversation. “And what do you do, Erik?”
“I’m a professional hockey player,” I tell her. “For the Vengeance.”
“Oh, wow,” she says in awe and then turns to Blue with a grin. “Well done, Blue.”
Ellen turns back to me. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you. I do watch hockey but I don’t follow it that closely to know players on other teams. I’ve been to a lot of Cold Fury games back in Raleigh, though.”