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My hair looks beautiful too. Marguerite did it.
It’s swooped to the side, so it flows down past my left shoulder and cascades down to my waist.
She did my makeup too. Tonight, she went for a smoky eye effect and a berry-colored lipstick.
It’s the first time I’ve been to The Dark Odyssey and worn so much clothes.
I’m also not wearing a mask.
It’s not a masquerade-themed party like the rest of the club.
Vincent told me that when they hold fundraisers like these, they try to make them different.
Tony meets me at reception again, and this time, I’m led to a completely different section of the club. We don’t walk past the main floor. This seems like a separate route that avoids any contact with the sex and wildness going on in the club.
It makes sense for anyone who’s not here for that.
We get out to the courtyard, where I see people dressed in evening gowns and cocktail dresses gathered together drinking wine. Passing waiters hold trays with canapes and more drinks.
This is strange, seeing this too. People out here not in lingerie.
Tony takes me up a set of wide stairs that leads to a hall fit for a wedding reception. It has the Venetian style like the main floor of the club with the gold roof and baroque balconies on each floor.
I’m so amazed at how massive this place is and all the ideas that have been put together to present something spectacular.
It’s stunning and breathtaking.
What’s more stunning and breathtaking is the man over in the corner who looks straight at me as I enter the building.
There are so many people here, but they all fade out along with the soft jazz music when I see him.
We must be twenty feet away from each other, but the pull of that magnetism is so strong I can barely breathe.
Vincent watches me and starts walking toward us. His eyes on me, only me.
His gaze intensifies and expands when we meet in the middle, and in that moment, I know I’ve fallen for him.
“Boss,” Tony says, breaking the beauty of the trance.
“Thank you, Tony,” Vincent says.
I never take my eyes off him. I hear Tony walk away, and that’s all I register. Vincent lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles, making me smile and blush at the same time.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“You too,” I answer.
“I look beautiful?” He smirks, revealing the dimple in his left cheek.
“Hmmm hmm.”
“Come here,” he says, beckoning me to his lips.
I move to him, and he slants his lips over mine.
We’ve kissed in public before, but not like this. Not in front of people who aren’t wearing masks and aren’t distracted by their fantasies.
These people around will be looking on and watching, knowing who he is and the significance of who he is.
