What a New Year's Eve

by R. E. Laurel

  Indeed, Victor was taken by total shock at the sensuous transformation of the cutie from work into the mysterious beauty of the night. He felt like his jaw hit the floor as he could only gaze at her. Her translucent beauty only succeeded to reel him in. Her eyes drew him in deeper with the mauve and brown color she professionally used to make those dark beauties glow at him. The painted blood red lips were slightly parted then her tongue lightly licked at them. Speechless he only managed to stare until she smiled at him and stepped aside.

  “Come in, Vic,” she suggested, turning, watching as he walked past to pivot on his heels to take a few steps backward. His perusal of her caused her to think she chose the wrong dress. Nervously she ran her hands down her rounded hips. Her teeth worked her lower lip as the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at swept over her. “Perhaps I need to change,” she suggested.

  He took in the curvaceous female anatomy standing so calm but sexy next to him. He was floored, amazed at her appearance. The name cutie was a far cry from what he should be saying. Try gorgeous. Yea, that would be more like it.

  “Wow.” He stated, taking in her attire of the form-fitting black and red dress, the black skirt reached just below her knees and was trimmed in lace, contrasting over the red of her torso as the lace covered her narrow waist but exposing the red of her chest. The sleeves were long. The sweetheart neckline scooped low to display an eye-catching cleavage. “No way, gorgeous. You’re perfection.”

  Smiling, he reached for her hand, raising it, he pressed a kiss on the back then lifted it into the air. Her laugh blended with his as he gave her a twirl, sending the base of her dress to slightly lift. The face-framing layers were released from the upswept chignon hairstyle and tendrils flowed loosely from the twirl. She was perfection, he thought as he spun her into his arms where he easily held her against him.

  “I have a new name for you,” he happily stated, his hands clasped at the small of her back.

  “With the things you come up with, I’m afraid to ask what it could be.”

  “Gorgeous, because you are.”

  Maren never in her life felt as she did at this moment. Just exactly where did Victor Montgomery come from? He seemed to have appeared into her life like magic and yes, she has felt nothing but a distinct attraction for him. It appeared he may have the same for her. Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions. He’s still a mystery. Hopefully, she’ll discover more about him this evening. She tipped her head back, gazing long into his pale blue eyes and liking what she saw.

  “I want to kiss you and I don’t care if I mess your lipstick,” he murmured, lowering his lips onto hers in a gentle kiss, in a longer kiss as he remained on hers. He leaned into her, keeping a hand at the small of her back, his other behind her head his kiss slowing, searching, waiting for a response.

  Maren’s grip weakened. She dropped her coat and purse onto the floor before her hands slid up his arms to lightly grip through his coat, feeling the muscles of his arms tightening as he held her in his arms. She pressed into him, drawing from him the desire she knew he felt as he passionately kissed her. She lightly pressed against his arms, breaking the spell.

  Stepping back, her hands slowly slid down his arms as he dropped his arms at his side. She looked at him as she bit her lower lip. She never felt this way with the others who kissed her. Not one bit, not at all. Tentatively her finger brushed the lipstick from his lips before his fingers joined to wipe the signs of her on him.

  “We, we probably should get going,” she began.

  He glanced at his wristwatch as if it would help make a decision when really, he needed something else to look at besides little Miss Gorgeous.

  “Yes, we most definitely need to. I made reservations.” He bent to pick up her coat and purse she dropped onto the floor. Holding the coat open, he waited for her to slip her arms into the sleeves, then handed her purse to her.

  The winds were picking up along with a few snow squalls blowing through. The drive was short to an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of the tiny town. Walking to the building, he grasped her hand to place in the crook of his arm. With a grin, she glanced at his face as he watched the partially snow-covered sidewalk, guiding her through a maze of possible ice patches as he led to the carpeted steps. Others never acted so courteously with her the way Victor did.

  They stood near a desk where a sign read, ‘Please wait to be seated’. Victor helped Maren remove her coat as they waited on the hostess. Maren glanced at the décor.

  “It’s beautiful in here. Don’t you think?” She asked Victor.

  “It isn’t too bad.”

  The hostess approached them, stopping their conversation. They followed the petite blond hair waitress. Maren was well aware of the slight pressure of his large hand on her lower back as he guides her in front of him. Surprising herself, she found she liked this gesture of his. She placed them in a booth that had a large half-circle seat, a roundtable fit at the opening. Deep blue drapes hung between each booth with a sash rope of gold tied them back.

  “I’ve never been here,” Maren confessed once they got situated. “I think it’s beautiful. It’s so Italian-ish. Is that a word?” she repeated as Victor slid in close to her.

  Victor chuckled, “If it isn’t it should be now. If you call stucco cream walls with silk grapevines draped here and there along with wine barrels situated around the rooms to help aid with the ambiance, then yep, it’s Italian-ish.”

  “And the paintings really make you feel as though you are looking out windows to villages.” She marveled.

  “I guess they could,” he replied, never removing his eyes away from her. “So really, you have never been here?”

  “Nope, never.”

  “You live what, five miles?”

  “Give or take but yes, five miles. And I’ve lived here all of my life.”

  “Why not? Wouldn’t any of your boyfriends bring you here?”

  She shrugged, “I didn’t date a lot.”

  Victor had his cup of ice water to his lips taking a sip and almost choked on that confession. “I find that hard to believe,” he stated, picking up a napkin to wipe across his mouth.

  “Nope. I went out on a lot of first dates but if they didn’t interest me then why waste my time for a second one? And some of those second or third dates turned into nothing but a wrestling match.”

  Victor listened and looked at her. His brows furrowed, dumbfounded at what she stated. Would that mean she never, ever, ever had sex? That would be simply impossible to even comprehend during this day and age. Her voice broke into his wondrous thoughts.

  “Belinda and I thought about trying it out but thought it was a bit pricey,” she leaned nearer, her shoulder brushing his, to softly speak so no one else would hear her.

  He paused, his thoughts still on the fact that she may be a virgin, then, “Oh, trying it out! You mean this restaurant.”

  “Yes. What did you think I meant?” She laughed, enjoying his sense of humor.

  “Never mind. Let’s check out the menu before the waitress returns,” he suggested through a grin.

  “I already know what I’d like. Lasagna.”

  “Same here.” He motioned to the waitress. “We both want lasagna.”

  “Very wise choice, sir.”

  “And a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon too, please.”

  Maren quirked her one eyebrow. He said that with such finesse. He certainly isn’t a stranger around wine. The server’s voice caught her attention.

  “Again, a man who knows his wine. I’ll get your order right in for you.” She placed a basket of warm dinner rolls on the table and a salad in front of each of them before leaving.

  “She’s correct. That’s a good wine,” Maren stated.

  “Depends on the type of sauce and what you’re eating. Where other wines would make the sauce taste richer, this kind would enhance the food. Let’s get back to the part about you rarely dated statement. I am intrigued.”

  CHAPTER 7
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  “That intrigues you? Why on earth would that intrigue you?” Maren closely watched him as together they reached for a roll and some butter. She grinned as he began speaking while buttering his dinner roll.

  He nodded his head at her, acknowledging how sincere he was. “A woman with the looks you have? I’d be surprised to find you weren’t having a date nightly.”

  Shrugging, she sweetly replied, “I’m particular I guess. During my lifetime I have learned how men can be two-faced, uncaring, only wanting one thing.” She added with a scoffing chuckle.

  “Now you know what men want. And that would be?” Victor reached for his glass of water.

  “To get what they have between their legs into what I have between my legs,” she bluntly stated and again Victor sputtered water from his mouth, almost choking on his drink. “I need to wait to drink anything until after you speak,” he wheezed.

  She remained impassive, watching as his choking turned into coughing. Reaching for his napkin, she handed it to him as he blotted water from his shirt. “Something the matter?” She finally asked.

  “Nothing wrong with that, being particular that is,” he wheezed through his coughing. Getting back to some form of control as the server returned with the bottle of wine being chilled and two stem glasses. He closely studied Maren’s profile, not believing how beautiful she is and never dated that much. Again, they waited until she left them alone.

  Maren leaned forward, getting as close to his face as possible. “The game plan is that I decided to focus on a career in sales and one day manage the whole place until I received my notice from Victor Neal the Sixth,” she hissed the name. “He never even knew any of us just an e-mail from the corporate office.”

  He blanched at how she spat his name. I wonder how she would react when she finds out who I really am?

  “How did you know the order came from an e-mail?”

  “Stan.”

  That explains it, he thought.

  “Per-Perhaps he had to listen to his boss and carry out the nasty order,” he tried to explain any rational reason. He reached for the bottle of wine, working the corkscrew into the cork and twisting until it opened. Reaching for a glass he first poured the wine into it and placed in front of her then the other he set in front of him. Returning the bottle to the silver ice holder he turned his attention back to this amazing lady.

  “No, that isn’t how they work,” she began with disgust. “The big guns never even visit the store. They don’t know their workers they just follow data, numbers, etc. The numbers and all may appear good to us, the simple hard workers who have to endure days upon days; hours upon hours of rude, angry, damn angry customers while they sit on a beach somewhere sipping margaritas.”

  Victor rolled his eyes at the more than truthful words. That was exactly where he was supposed to be three days ago. Her continued tirade interrupted his thoughts.

  “But they just have to do what they feel is right for the business and that is to still make the ever-loving money. Get rid of the management who works hard, who comes in and work when they are short staffed, offers her damn days off to help out and what happens to those people?” She made a motion of a knife across her throat, “They’re the ones who get cut and they pull up those workers beneath them, no raise though because that would defeat the purpose of it all.” She ended in a very condescending, sarcastic voice.

  Victor stared at the deeper darkness of her eyes from refrained anger. “I can see your point,” he muttered. “One thing for sure, you’re blunt. No holding back.” Victor reached out to gently grasp the top of her hand in his, noticing no pulling back. “You know what? You are damn adorable when you are pissed.” He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss on the back, his eyes connecting with hers. He felt the slight tremble that ran through her down to her fingertips.

  They paused as their meals were placed in front of them but as soon as the server walked away Maren began again.

  “I’m not pissed. I’m just upset.”

  “And pissed. You should have watched your eyes and face from this position.” He released her hand, so they could begin to eat. “Let’s put that on the back burner for now, okay?” He suggested, hoping she would do that. He picked up the white linen napkin to place on his lap.

  “All right. Tell me something about you.” Maren urged placing her napkin on her lap.

  “Such as?” He stuck a little piece of lasagna on his fork.

  “Are you married?”

  He grinned, stopping his fork in mid-air. There’s that straightforward talk coming from her again. She took a bite as he lowered his fork. He turned to better look her square in the face. This may be a while, he thought with amusement.

  “If I were married, I’d be home with my beautiful wife. Not out with a beautiful lady.”

  “I just asked.”

  “No.”

  “Ever been?” She questioned as she swallowed a piece of lasagna.

  “No.”

  “Ever engaged?”

  He studied her, noting the intensity of her gaze.

  “Never engaged. Never been head over heels in love. No children running around.”

  “Oh, come one. Never been in love?”

  “Have you ever been in love?” He returned, taking a bite of his meal.

  “No.”

  “Then why do you find it hard to believe that I have never been in love? I mean don’t women tend to fall into love way faster and easier than a man does?”

  “I’ll have to check the statistics regarding that one but I’m certain men get infatuated so much quicker, at times,” she quickly added when he opened his mouth to answer her.

  “I’m finding you a very stimulating woman. Your candor goes above any others I have had the pleasure to know.”

  “That’s how I am. Why should I lie about anything? Why should I keep things quiet? If it’s something you want to know ask. Just speak it out.”

  “Ah, but that could also get you into trouble.”

  “It has.” She laughed.

  Victor’s deep laughter joined with hers as he imagined what all could have happened with her forwardness. The ringing of his cell phone stopped them as he reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket lying next to him on the seat. With a glance, he ignored the call to return the phone into his jacket.

  “What are you going to do now that you’re unemployed?”

  “I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet. Do you like to dance?” She asked with a smile.

  He listened to the dinner music being softly played. Then glanced around the area for a dance floor and saw none.

  “That’s dinner music, Maren.”

  “So. Let’s get crazy,” she suggested. Standing, she held her hand out to him. It didn’t take him long to follow.

  “When in Concord Hamlet, do as the Concords do.”

  Her hand was so tiny in his as he grasped hers to be led to an area between the square tables in the dining room. Turning, she went into his arms. He kept her hand in his, placing it on his chest, his other resting at the small of her back, feeling the curvature indent of her tiny waist. Together they moved in a tiny circle doing a two-step slow dance.

  Maren was taken by surprise when he agreed to dance with her in a restaurant that didn’t have dancing. Her lips curved into a wide grin as she noticed some customers smiling, others scowling. A few of the ladies held a wistful look. Her chest rose and fell with the sigh as she settled nearer to Victor, following his lead. She felt his chin brushing her temple and his voice softly hum along to the tune. Again, she was surprised that he would know the song, a romantic song of a man vowing his love to his lady.

  Her eyes widen when he suddenly stepped back. In one fluent motion, he lifted her arm to twirl her beneath before deftly dipping her.

  “Whew!” she squealed as her world began spinning and just as fast stopped as his arms wrapped around her and her world turned upside down from the dip. Light laughter filled the air a
s her head dropped back. A long sigh slipped past her lips from the heat of his lips pressing on the base of her neck then a nibble. He straightened, pulling her dainty figure up with him as their gaiety died in the air, their eyes met and held.

  The emotion was strong, coursing between them. Victor felt the first stirring of something strange deep inside. Something he never felt before with anyone else and he wasn’t sure what to do, face it, attack it or deny it. He released her, so his hands could clasp on each side of her face, her skin soft beneath his touch. Her eyes held a questioning look as he felt the delicate touch of her hands at his wrists. Slowly he brought his face nearer, pausing, their mouths mere inches apart. He pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lengthened as he held her face in his hands, refusing to release her just yet.

  Maren was being taken on such a wild ride with him. His kiss was soft in the beginning; slowly changing to demanding, wanting, a need. A desire between two people hungering for more in life. Yearning. Her eyes opened to find him looking at her, searching her face but for what?

  “Oh shit,” she murmured.

  His hand held hers, leading her back to their table among the light clapping from the customers. He held her chair for her as they took their seats, each quiet with their own thoughts.

  “Oh, shit?” Victor repeated, grasping a glass to sip on the wine. He watched her over the rim, not missing the furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?”

  What’s wrong? Is that a loaded question? How could she say how she really felt when she didn’t even know how she really felt?

  “I don’t think I want to talk about it at the moment. The words might not come out how I mean for them. You know, I’m not hungry any longer.”

  “Ready to leave?”

  She nodded. Both stood. Victor grabbed her coat and helped her put it on before picking his coat to drape over his arm. Grabbing the bottle of wine, he hurried to catch up with her. He swore she was trying to make a hasty escape since she already stood at the door. Her pretty face was drawn in a pinch as she kept looking at him and at the door. He tried to hurry as he withdrew his charge card to pay the bill.