by RK Close
“Oh, shit! That won’t work! Go change into something romantic and for the love of all that is feminine, put some makeup on, girl!” she commands.
“Okay, what is going on?”
“Just do it!” she says before the line goes dead. Most certainly one of our strangest conversations yet.
I have no idea what she’s up to or why I’m letting her boss me around like this. I head to my bedroom to shower and make myself presentable for my evening at home, watching TV with Adam.
Twenty minutes later I’m brushing lip gloss on just for the heck of it when the doorbell buzzes. I guess since Dayna is currently in love, she’s planned a double date or something along those lines. I check myself once in the mirror before hurrying to answer the door.
I stop, remembering my new safety motto, and check the dagger resting in the thigh sheath under my black baby doll dress. I’m not wearing the pendant yet, so I look through the spyglass to see who it is. My breath catches at the sight of Adam.
He’s dressed in a tux and could have walked off a GQ magazine cover. From what he’s wearing, I’d say we are not clubbing tonight. And he used the front door. I don’t try to hide my smile as I pull it open. Adam has one hand hidden behind his back, and a garment bag draped across the other. Nervous excitement runs up my spine as I notice it’s from the same store as the last gorgeous dress Adam gave me.
“Hey, handsome.”
His eyes are already glowing flames, and my stomach does a little flip from the look in them. He smiles at me and my heart melts. Adam’s not the smiling type, but when he does, I’m unraveled like a spool of thread rolling along the floor.
Adam pulls a beautiful bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath from behind his back and hands them to me. “May I come in?”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the flowers and stepping back for him to enter.
I close the door, and he waits to follow me into the kitchen.
“These are stunning. What’s the occasion?” I say, lovingly arranging the bouquet in a vase.
“You would have flowers every day if you desired them.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of flowers for one girl. Now and then will do nicely.” I wink at him.
He drapes the garment bag across a chair and turns toward me. I walk over to him and slip my arms inside of his jacket to hug him to me. He smells wonderful. I sigh as his arms encircle me and his chin rests on my head.
“Why the suit? Not that I don’t appreciate this look on you.”
He pulls away from me and gives me a serious look. Warning bells start in my head. What has happened now? Before I can ask, my phone buzzes and vibrates on the table next to us.
I start to reach for it, and he stops me. “Don’t.”
I give him a questioning look. He grabs the phone and switches off the ringer. “It will be Dayna, your pushy, spirited friend.”
It is Dayna. I could see her picture on the screen. “What’s up? Why don’t you want me to answer?”
Adam takes my hands in his. “Because she is overly excited and obviously impatient.”
“I see,” I say, smiling up at him.
“Will you accompany me to the opera tonight? As I recall, we missed our last performance, and I’d very much like to take you.” Adam’s eyes are blazing, and this knowledge alone would have me swooning.
“Tonight? Are you serious?” I ask, eyeing the garment bag.
“I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring another dress for the evening. Would you like to try it on and see if it’s to your satisfaction?” It was a question, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he hands me the bag. And just like that, I’m a kid, and it’s Christmas morning. Grinning from ear-to-ear, I turn and head for my room. Just before the door I stop and turn. Adam waits expectantly.
“How much time do I have?”
“Forty minutes,” he says.
Biting my lip, I rush into my room. I’m giddy with excitement as I lay the bag on my bed and unzip it slowly. My eyes go wide with the silky black fabric that looks like black waves on an ocean. My hand roams over the smooth fabric, making me smile remembering the last dress Adam gave me. It was a beautiful red dream, fitting me perfectly. I felt like a movie star wearing it. It’s now in a secondhand store somewhere—ruined the night I killed Zac.
I pull the dress out of the bag by the hanger. This dress is also designed to hug the curves of a woman, but where the red dress was full and flowing at the bottom, this dress is narrow and sleek. There is no time to admire this work of art, so I put it on.
***
Not wasting a single second of my forty minutes, I finally walk out of my room, dressed, perfumed, plucked, and curled. Luckily my legs were already shaved, or I might not have made it.
Adam turns away from gazing into the night to look at me. The look he gives me tells me all I need to know. His gaze travels the length of my body with admiration and something more.
My gown for the opera is black silk that falls over my curves in soft waves. A single gather over one shoulder and a deep scooped back makes me think of a snugger version of the toga. But there is no extra material for this dress. It’s smooth and sophisticated with a high slit exposing the long leg. Just like the red dress it fits like it was made for me. How does he know how to find these clothes?
“Do I need to ask how I look?” I ask, smiling.
“I do believe you will be the death of me, Samantha Lewis.”
He comes toward me and places a lingering kiss on my hand before tucking it in the bend of his arm and leading me toward the front door.
“I’m pretty sure that I could say the same of you, Adam Blackwell.”
Both Adam and I acknowledge Harold sitting at the desk as we pass through the lobby. Harold smiles and waves. “Looks like you’re going to a fancy ball,” Harold calls.
“The opera, Harold. Good evening,” Adam replies.
Adam leads me out the front of our building to a waiting limousine. I recognize the same driver and smile at him as he holds the door. This time, he gives me a curt nod as his gaze darts nervously to Adam.
***
There is no stopping for appetizers tonight, which is fine by me. That part of the date didn’t go so well the last time. Our limo driver pulls right to the curb of The Phoenix Opera, and I marvel at the modern building. People mill about the steps leading up to the venue. Guests vary from semi-formal to ready for the red carpet. Some are on the casual end, but most are dressed to impress.
Discretely placed floodlights shine on large banners hanging off the Roman-style building. It’s at this moment that I realize we are finally going to watch the Phantom of the Opera. I was so excited about the dress and the idea of a date-date that I didn’t even ask what show we were seeing. Having never seen an opera, I’ve always wondered if I’d enjoy it.
We turn some heads as we make our way up the steps but don’t stand out in this crowd, and I’m glad. I don’t enjoy being the center of attention even if I do strive to look good when I make the effort. But Harold was right, I do feel like a princess going to the ball.
Adam looks tall and confident moving among the sea of mortals. It’s impossible to miss all the seductive, lustful looks he’s receiving from other women and maybe a couple men. Adam doesn’t appear to notice so I pretend as well.
He leads us to a door where an attendant moves the red velvet rope to allow us to pass into a small reception hall. Servers are carrying trays loaded with wine glasses or hors d’oeuvres. Everyone in this room is dressed as if going to the Oscars, and I can almost smell the money oozing from their pores.
All eyes turn our way, and I have the briefest notion of nervousness. That’s when I feel Adam slide a hand up my bare back. He takes a glass of wine from a server’s tray as we pass by and gives it to me. I take it and notice my hand is shaking. Adam leans over and whispers in my ear. His warm breath and lips at my ear cause a shiver that I force down.
“You are the loveliest creature in this room. Do not b
e intimidated by them.”
This makes me smile as I feel myself begin to relax. I don’t believe him, but his words remind me to hold my head high. I’m good at faking confidence when I lack it. Still, I down almost the entire glass before I realize what I’m doing.
Damn nerves.
A server in a crisp white shirt, red silk vest, and black bow tie tells Adam, “Your seats are ready, Mr. Blackwell.”
Adam nods and then guides me with his hand firmly resting on my lower back. His thumb grazes my exposed skin, and I do shiver as we take the stairs to a private balcony. Plush red velvet chairs are in pairs of two or three in the small balcony room overlooking the stage. Adam holds my hand as I take a seat. We are alone for now, but I assume others will make their way into this area as there are vacant seats.
I’m grinning like a kid as I look around at the various people taking their seats below and in other balcony rooms. I can easily see in other private rooms.
Adam takes the seat next to me and looks completely at ease with his surroundings. He’s even more handsome tonight, if that’s even possible. His eyes are shining but look mostly human tonight. I would say he’s in a good mood, providing I know what that looks like.
He notices me watching him and asks, “Are you looking forward to the performance?”
I nod. I’m on pins and needles with excitement. Being here with him, experiencing an opera for the first time and dressed for a fairytale evening—yes, I’m a happy camper.
“Will others be joining us?” I ask.
“No.”
“But there are more seats here. And the other seats are full,” I say, looking back at the door behind us.
“I purchased all of the seats in this balcony.” His eyes glow just a little around the edges, and my heart skips a beat.
“All? Why would you do that?” I ask, my lips parted in awe.
“I want this to be special for you. It’s your first opera, after all.” Adam winks at me and I almost drop my glass of wine.
Adam winked at me.
Adam doesn’t wink.
When he sees my reaction, he laughs. It’s a deep rich sound—so masculine. Right there and then I make it my mission to make him smile and laugh more. Maybe it was more natural for him once—a long time ago.
I close my mouth as the lights flicker, and the last of the people begin taking their seats. Just before the lights dim and the opera begins, a flash of white catches my attention in a balcony across the arena. Squinting my eyes, I think I see the man from my dream looking my way. As the lights continue to dim I blink to clear my vision and he’s gone, or I’m no longer able to see that far in the darkness.
Was that a trick of the light? If not for the stark white of his hair, I might not have noticed him. Not being certain I saw anything at all and not wishing to ruin our evening, I say nothing. It doesn’t take long for me to forget the notion entirely as I’m soon captivated by the moving story of desperate love as told in the Phantom of the Opera.
***
By the final scene, I’m sitting at the edge of my seat, gripping Adam’s hand like a lifeline. Tears run down my face, and I don’t even care about my makeup. At some point Adam gives me a handkerchief, and I dab my eyes and wipe my nose just so I can see the stage.
At the end of the final act, I join the audience as they erupt in applause. I’m out of my seat clapping to a standing ovation. This goes on for some time as the actors come out one by one and two by two to take their bow. When people start to disburse, and leave their seats, I finally remember that I’m here with Adam. I find him watching me with such intensity I suddenly feel shy. I quickly sit down to tell him how much I loved the opera, how moving the music was and how grateful I am that he gave me this.
Adam’s eyes are ablaze with preternatural light, and my breath catches at the passion shining from them. Before I can tell him all the things I want to say to him, he does something I’m not expecting.
Adam moves smoothly out of his seat and onto one knee before me. I sniff and blink at him.
Adam’s expression is unreadable.
And then he says, “Samantha Lewis, will you throw caution and reason to the wind to be my bride, my wife?”
Holy sh…
THE END
Or is it?
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Acknowledgements
They say it takes a village and it does. With great respect and appreciation, I’d like to mention some people who have supported me in my endeavor to share my stories. In no particular order:
Leila Adams, author of the Blood Star Series; Juliet Lyons, author; May Freighter, author of Helena Hawthorn Series; CJ Laurence, author of Want and Need; Lynn Santiogo, author of A Court for Fairies; Michelle Jo Quinn, author of the Bliss Series; Elicia Hyder, author of The Soul Summoner Series; Tammy Oja, contributing author of Once Upon Now; Debbie Goelz, contributing author of Once Upon Now; Michelle Hayes, author of How Deep The Roots Grow; and Anna Santos, author of Soul-Mate. I’d also like to mention Bella Higgin for allowing me to mention her novel in my story, Ed Hackett for assistance with initial edits and advice, the community of Wattpad.com for their tremendous support, Wattpad Ambassadors for all you do to help others. And sometimes readers become friends, like Antoinette Gross.
I’d also like to mention some of the unsung heroes who make publishing possible: the entire Limitless Publishing Team—Lori for going above and beyond her job description, Dixie for making us look good, Jessica for solving problems too big for me to think about, Jennifer for her leadership, Lydia for her positive attitude and a “let’s get it done” attitude, Dimitri for handling all the details, Crystal and Elise for your willingness to help. I can’t forget my editor, Laura Kemmerer, who has the patience of a saint and a wonderful disposition.
Last but never least, you my reader. Without you, there is no story.
About the Author
I’m RK Close, author of the Vampire Files Trilogy. Red Night is the first book in the series. I write paranormal-romance & urban-fantasy with a hint of darkness and a dash of humor. Creating characters that my readers will fear, fall in love with, despise or cheer for, is what I love most about writing.
Ann Rice receives all the credit for my vampire addiction which started in my early twenties. Like so many others, I fell in love with her vampires first.
Originally from Kentucky, I’ve lived most of my life in Arizona where I met and married my true love. We were late to the game so we knocked out three ankle-biters in quick succession. We often joke that parenthood saved us from ourselves. Now we need to be saved from parenthood. *just kidding* We love our darling spawn.
When I’m not writing, I’m taking care of a busy family, dragging my butt to CrossFit, thinking about my stories or spending time with family and friends. My dream is to sell enough books to hire someone to clean our house and cook our meals. Okay, maybe that’s my family’s dream. I tend to get a little obsessed when I write.
I would love the opportunity to pull you into my world of strong independent females, mysterious vampires, noble hunters, hungry werewolves and seductive yet deadly fae. If you like paranormal-romance in a modern-urban setting with plenty of romantic tension, mystery and suspense, then my novels were written for you.
~RK Close
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